The Coercion Key (18 page)

Craig shook his head. “It could have been different for each of them and we might never find out what the reasons were. My money’s still on their families being threatened, at least for people like Diana Rogan. People like McCafferty and Warner might have had other skeletons in their closets.”

Annette cut in “But what would have convinced them that the threat to their families was genuine?”

Craig shook his head. “The only way I would believe someone would carry out a threat to kill would be if there was proof that they’d already done it before…”

His voice tailed away and he stared at Liam as the realisation hit them both. Their killer had killed before and got away with it and they’d provided evidence of that murder to their four victims in the PDFs. Evidence that the victims could easily have checked. He turned to Davy and Jake.

“Both of you: first thing tomorrow I want the search history from all our victims’ computers. If that PDF contained proof that our killer had murdered before then the likeliest source of verification would have been on a website they’d provided a link to in the PDF. Find it for me. Davy, you have the lead on this.”

Davy shook his head and Craig stared at him quizzically.

“It didn’t n…need to be a w…weblink chief. I think t…that w…would be too clumsy for s…someone this skilled in IT. All they h…had to do was embed a v…video file in the PDFs s…showing the murder and information on it. It w…would have been destroyed along with the f…files.”

Craig said nothing for a moment. His gut said that Davy was right; they might never get their perp for the earlier murder, whoever they’d killed, and searching for it now could waste valuable time. They would have to work with what they had at the moment. He glanced at the clock. Ten past five; time to go home.

“OK. Excellent work all of you. You all know what you’re doing tomorrow. I’m seeing the Chief Constable to bring him up to speed so I won’t be in until eleven.”

Craig turned on his heel, signalling Jake to follow. He closed his office door firmly behind them as the others filtered off the floor. Liam deliberately dragged his heels and so did Annette. She’d thought that Liam was being too hard on Jake earlier, but after the way he’d just spoken to Davy she wanted to hear him get what he deserved. They could have been in the car-park ten floors below and still heard it.

It was clear from Jake’s shadow against Craig’s office door that the stripping down was happening on their feet. Craig’s words were crystal clear and his voice was hard and cold.

“You arrogant, rude, insulting… who the hell do you think you are?”

“But…”

“Be quiet! I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to speak. You were invited to join this team six months ago because you were bright and good at your work. You still are, but since your probationary period ended and you’ve had some security here you’ve shown a side of you that’s very unattractive, Sergeant McLean. You’ve been competitive with your team mates, arrogant and high-handed and taken unnecessary risks. And for what? To look better? To progress faster up the ranks?”

Jake stared at the floor with his jaw set and Craig’s voice grew louder. Annette winced and Liam grinned. Good man. Craig was reasonable and easy-going to a fault, but when it was really necessary he’d kick someone right in the balls. Craig’s next words were a shout.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Sergeant!”

Jake lifted his eyes and what he saw in Craig’s shocked him. It was a fury that he’d never seen before and he wondered how hard Craig normally had to fight to conceal it.

Craig’s voice grew harder by the word. “I write the personal reports on all of you and if you think you can progress in the force without good reports, you’re very mistaken. Do you think that back-biting, point scoring and being rude to your team mates, or driving like a bat out of hell to Enniskillen and back just to get a warrant quickly, impresses me? Because if you do then you’re mistaken.”

Jake remained stubbornly silent and Craig could feel the urge to punch him grow. He turned quickly and sat down behind his desk, leaving Jake on his feet.

“You have a great deal of potential, Sergeant, but if you want to remain on my team there are a few things you need to learn in a hurry. This is more than a team. Behind all the banter people here actually like each other, and they trust each other out on the street. Jockeying for position and trying to compete with other people will get you absolutely nowhere. It doesn’t impress me, everyone can see it and I want it to stop. Now! Do you understand?”

Jake’s face glowed red and he muttered something under his breath.

“What? I didn’t hear that.” Craig repeated the question exaggeratedly. “Do…you…understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now I want you to go home and think hard about whether you really want to be on my team under these conditions. If you do then tomorrow morning you will apologise to Davy in front of everyone, including me. If you do that then this incident will not be written down and it will be forgotten, but if you don’t then I’ll replace you within a week. Take it or leave it.”

Jake bit his lip hard, so as not to say the words he really wanted to. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good, now you’re dismissed, Sergeant. Go home.”

Liam and Annette hid quickly behind Annette’s cubicle partition, holding their breath. When they heard Jake’s footsteps enter the lift they emerged and walked straight into Craig’s room. He shook his head, half-smiling.

“You just couldn’t resist listening, could you?”

Liam sniffed and drew himself up to his full height. “I think you went easy on him, myself. He deserved a good smack.”

“And I need an assault charge like a hole in the head. What do you think, Annette?”

Annette nodded. “I think you got it about right, sir, although I could have killed him when he upset Davy. His stutter got far worse.”

Craig nodded sadly. “I know. I’ll drop round to see him on my way home. There’s no excuse for what Jake said, but I suppose he doesn’t know how shy Davy was when he joined us.”

“Personally, I don’t give a monkey’s if he stays. There’s a good candidate in drugs who wants to come over.”

“Sergeant?”

“No, a constable. Wee girl called Delia Anderson. Karl Rimmins rates her highly.”

“If she’s a constable we might take her anyway. I’d like another junior on the team and another female officer could be a real asset. What do you think, Annette?”

Annette nodded eagerly. The squad was a bit of a boy’s club and she felt isolated at times.

“OK, that’s settled then. Speak to Karl and Delia after the case is over and let me know what you think. Then I’ll take a look at the budget.”

Liam tutted exaggeratedly. “It’s always about the money isn’t it?” His face broke into a grin. “Speaking of money, I think you owe us both a drink.”

***

Friday, 7 a.m.

Being woken up by a knock on the door was the last thing that Craig needed, especially not by one that sounded like the tank corps was responsible. He woke at the first thud and was out of bed and at the front door by the third, just in case thud number four was a metal enforcer knocking it down.

“Who’s there?”

The neighbours halfway down the hall could have heard the irritation in his tone, but it was completely lost on Liam.

“Just me, boss. Open up.”

Craig yanked the door open with a stream of expletives on his lips, only to realise from Liam’s amused stare that he was completely naked.

“Well, well. Now I can see why you’re so popular with the ladies. Get some clothes on. There’s been another one.”

Liam kept on talking as Craig headed for the shower. With anyone else that would have been where the conversation ended, drowned out by running water, but not with Liam. His voice was loud enough to cut through walls when he wanted it to and he employed it to full effect now.

“House up on the Belmont Road. Male in his forties, shot himself once in the head. I hope the gun helps with the I.D. ’cos his face certainly won’t. It happened about half-past-five this morning and if he’s the bloke who owns the house then his name was Adrian Bell.”

Craig yelled back, spluttering the words out to avoid swallowing shampoo. “Did he leave a note?”

“Aye. Same as the others.”

“What did he do for a living?”

Liam shot a sceptical look towards the bathroom and switched the kettle on to boil. “God, give me a chance. I haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s all right for you, you got an extra hour’s kip.”

Just as he said it Craig appeared at the kitchen door wrapped in a towel. He grabbed a piece of toast just as it popped up from the toaster.

“Aye, help yourself to my breakfast, why don’t you?”

Craig gawped, amused. “It’s my bread! Anyway there’s plenty more in the fridge. Do you fancy a decent coffee?”

“We don’t have time if we’re to get to the scene then into the office for nine o’clock.”

“We don’t have to do anything. I’m the boss, remember.”

Craig grinned and turned towards the percolator, leaving Liam to marvel at the muscle definition on his back. His body was as sculpted as if he spent hours in the gym, except Liam knew that was impossible.

“Here. Do you have a weights machine hidden in your office somewhere I haven’t noticed?”

“What?”

“The muscles. Where’d you get them?”

Craig glanced down at his torso vaguely, as if he hadn’t noticed it before. He shrugged. “It must have been all those years of sport. I played rugby in London until six years ago, now I play five-a-side when I get a chance. Which is almost never.”

He pressed the percolator on and headed for the bedroom. “You sort out breakfast while I get dressed, then you can talk me through the case.”

Thirty minutes later they were standing in the kitchen of a modern detached house, staring down at their victim. The place was a mess. The man had shot himself in the head at point-blank range while he was seated in the room’s small breakfast alcove. Brain matter and blood were smeared down the wall, congealing over children’s crayoned drawings and a shopping list suspended on a magnetic notice board. Liam had told the C.S.I.s to leave the body in-situ until they got there, so they had to pick their way through yards of tape and smears of black fingerprint dust to reach their man.

Craig could see what Liam meant about it being hard to I.D. the victim. Whatever Adrian Bell had been he hadn’t been a very good shot. Most suicides would have shot themselves straight through the temple, leaving a single neat hole surrounded by burn marks. Gunpowder residue on their hand and the position of the gun would have sealed the verdict – suicide by gunshot. Adrian Bell, if that’s who the mess in front of them turned out to be, hadn’t been so obliging. He’d shot upwards from above his right ear so that the bullet had torn a path through his parietal and frontal bones then blown off the top of his skull. Hence the wall decoration. Only a powerful weapon could have done that and the gun on the floor was certainly that. It was a Mauser C96; a cannon amongst handguns. But where the hell had Bell got it from?

The head C.S.I. had been watching them in silence. He answered Craig’s unspoken question.

“The box was upstairs. Looks antique. World War Two or round about.”

“The Mauser was popular then. Someone in Bell’s family must have held onto it. Any sign of forced entry?”

“None.”

“Liam, where were his wife and children when this happened?”

“How’d you know there are any?”

Craig gestured at the drawings on the notice board and Liam made a face at the mess on the wall. He was glad that Annette wasn’t there. Gory scenes weren’t up there on her list of favourite things with raindrops on roses.

“Don’t know where they were, but I’ll find out. Can we move him now?”

Craig nodded. The sooner the body got to the lab the sooner John could give them more information. The thought was out before Craig could stop it and he didn’t know whether to smile or frown. He settled on a smile, confident that John was on the mend.

“Ask Mike Augustus if he’ll take the case. If he says yes then get Marlene Carey back to protect him. Warn him of the risks, Liam.”

“Will do. I’ll head to the lab now and meet you back at the squad. What time are we briefing?”

“Not until eleven. I’ve a meeting with the Chief Constable at nine-thirty.”

Craig glanced at his watch and startled. “Hell, I’d better get going or I’ll be late.” He headed for the door then turned back. “Liam, if you get to the office before me confirm the I.D.” Then he thought of something. “The key!” He spun back to the C.S.I. “Did any of your team find anything that looked like a large, gothic looking key? Or a USB?”

Liam smiled and reached into his pocket, withdrawing an evidence bag. “Calm down. I got it earlier. I’ll get Des to print it at the lab then get the numbers across to Davy.”

Craig exhaled sharply. “OK, good. Right, I’ll see you later. And Liam…”

“What now?”

Craig shot him a warning look. “Go easy on Jake.”

Liam’s face was the picture of innocence. “Me? As if I’d do anything else.”

***

Jenna Graham watched the cars come and go and the mortuary van arrive at ten o’clock, to carry the last man on her list to the cold dissection table he deserved. Adrian Bell deserved it doubly for refusing to go quietly like the rest.

Jenna often wondered whether her lack of feeling showed something missing in her psyche, but she could remember another, earlier time when she’d felt everything and it had hurt far too much. She’d wondered if her reactions had been normal then. Was it normal to feel so much pain that you wanted to scream and cry and tear down walls, and be prepared to do anything for some peace? And then suddenly, without a sign that it would end, to burn out and feel nothing at all?

She’d felt nothing from that day to this. It was as if someone had pressed her mind’s ‘escape’ button and she’d entered a space where nothing felt real. Perhaps a fuse in her brain had blown, never to be replaced. Whatever it was she thanked God for it, if there was such a being. It had left her free of pain, free to live, with her mind totally clear to think and plan. Now her plan had been completed and she was finally free.