Chapter 15 #2
‘In the meantime, whoever hired the car plugged their phone into the charging port,’ AJ says. ‘We’ve been able to extract the IMEI number and have confirmed the phone was a pay-as-you-go – almost certainly a burner. The number’s been fed into the intelligence system.’
‘Excellent work, thank you.’ Lauren turns to the wider team. ‘Who’s on ANPR?’ Sonya Marston puts her arm in the air. ‘Let’s get a convoy analysis done,’ Lauren says. ‘See if we can identify any of the other vehicles we know were involved.’
‘Yes, boss.’
Convoy analysis is a time-consuming task, but if ever an investigation warranted the budget, it’s this one. The goal is to identify vehicles travelling in the same direction at the same time, based not only on their routes but on the gaps between them.
‘Kenric . . .’ She looks around the room for DC Fennell. ‘What have you found out about Jamie Golding?’
‘No previous convictions, no stop-checks, no driving convictions.’ Kenric swivels a pen through the fingers of his right hand as he speaks. ‘No CCJs or civil cases. No kids, no previous marriages. No known criminal associates.’ He looks up. ‘Basically, no tea.’
‘Any other updates?’ Lauren’s phone is flashing again. Why doesn’t her mum just leave a voicemail? Or send a text?
‘You asked me to check with stores to see if any uniform’s been reported lost or stolen?’ Bahnaz says. ‘They haven’t had anything recently.’
‘That means nothing,’ Kenric says. He looks around. ‘Oh, come on: no one’s going to cough to losing a helmet when they know they’ll get a bollocking for it. They’ll put in a request for a new one and say the old one got blood on it and had to be binned.’
‘Sounds like someone’s speaking from experience,’ Fraser says. Kenric holds up his hands, overplaying his innocence.
‘Then I want to know which officers have exceeded their kit allocation in the last two years,’ Lauren says.
‘And check online auctions for police uniform. Vinted, eBay, Facebook Marketplace.’ She looks around for a free officer, and lands on a young PC, seconded from uniform.
‘Nadeeka Prasanna met DI Burton at the Copper Kettle on Stratton Street. They don’t have CCTV, but the surrounding buildings might have, and it’s possible the staff might remember something. Are you happy to take that?’
The PC nods eagerly. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Lauren’s mother is calling again. Has something terrible happened? Lauren’s dad’s not been well, and she’s been so busy she hasn’t had a chance to visit. She looks at the clock. ‘We’ll leave it there for now. Any questions, I’ll be in my office.’
Lauren calls her mum back the second she leaves the room. ‘Sorry, I was in a meeting. What’s up? Is it Dad?’
‘Have you sent the shot list to the photographer yet? Because I want to add Angela to the group shot with the cousins. She’s having a difficult year, and I think she’d like to be included.’
Lauren stops walking. ‘Is that it?’
‘She’ll be in the Important Women shot anyway, so this is just an extra—’
‘No, I mean, is that all you wanted to talk to me about? I just closed down a briefing early, Mum – I thought it was something important!’
‘It’s your wedding day, Lauren; it’s the most important day of your life.’
‘Right – of my life! Not bloody Angela’s!’
‘Don’t you dare shout at me!’ Lauren’s mum’s voice cracks. ‘I keep trying to help with the wedding preparations and all you do is throw it back in my face. Your brother’s made it perfectly clear he’s not interested in getting married, and now you’re denying me—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Mum, I’m not denying any—’
But the line has gone dead. Lauren takes her phone from her ear and looks at the screen, weighing up the need to make peace with her mother against the pressure of a murder enquiry currently making headlines across the country.
‘Hey.’ Fraser comes up behind her, touching her gently on her waist. ‘You okay?’
‘Mum,’ she says. It’s all the explanation needed.
‘She loves you. She’s excited for the wedding.’
‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’ Lauren presses her palms against her closed eyes, fighting the sudden urge to cry. ‘There’s so much to do, Fraser. The seating plan, and those bloody sugared almonds, plus I’ve got to get bridesmaid gifts . . .’
‘Says who?’
‘It’s just what you do.’
‘Look at me.’ Fraser moves to face her. ‘Yasmin and Lucy won’t give a shit about bridesmaid gifts. They’re there to support you. The only bit of this wedding that matters is the bit where we say I do. Right?’
‘Right.’ Lauren takes a deep breath, centring herself. ‘You’re right.’
‘I always am.’ Fraser grins. ‘Now, can I take anything off your plate in relation to this job?’
Lauren shakes her head. ‘Thanks, but compared to a wedding?’ She flashes him a smile. ‘Murder’s a doddle.’
In her office, Lauren starts to work her way through her inbox. She deletes a couple of dozen emails, flags a dozen more to deal with later, and sifts through the ones marked as urgent.
Matt puts a tentative head around her door. ‘Am I interrupting?’
Lauren spins her chair towards the door. ‘What have you got?’
‘Financial investigations have got more on that cloned card.’ He walks towards her desk. ‘It was also used to make a payment of ￡4,500 to a company called Safeguard Solutions.’
‘Are they a security firm?’
‘Safeguard Solutions is a cleaning firm specializing in biohazard disposal.’ Matt delivers the news with a ‘mic drop’ grin. ‘They’ve got a website and everything.’
Lauren’s mouth falls open. She spins her chair back to her desk and Googles Safeguard Solutions.
She’s been following the hypothesis that whoever murdered Jamie was also the person who cleaned up the scene; she has tasked officers with checking local stores to see if anyone had purchased large quantities of bleach; with looking through recycling bins near the scene for empty containers.
Never once had Lauren imagined the criminals would have used a bona fide company.
Safeguard Solutions. Specialist technicians providing hoarder house clearance, crime scene cleaning and trauma decontamination across the UK.
A broad smile stretches across Lauren’s face. Now they’re getting somewhere.