Chapter 37
‘Guv, can I have a word?’
Pellacia looked up to see DC Copeland standing at his door. She looked pensive but also irritated.
‘I won’t take up much of your time. I can see you’ve got a lot on.
’ Copeland stepped further into Pellacia’s office and placed her hands on the back of the chair.
A lot on was an understatement. Pellacia’s desk was overrun with copies of the investigation reports and statements from the cases that Eastwood had flagged as possible serial crimes.
‘Close the door and take a seat,’ Pellacia said, sticking a green Post-it note on a woman’s statement alleging that her partner’s kidneys had been harvested.
‘I’ve always prided myself on being someone who doesn’t let their personal feelings get in the way. I get on with the job,’ said Copeland once she’d sat down. ‘My priority has always been to do the best job I can.’
‘I can hear a but,’ said Pellacia.
‘I only joined the SCU yesterday, and I understand that it can take time to fit in. To work out how a team moves and breathes.’
‘I’m still waiting for the but,’ said Pellacia as an email alert from Henley popped up on his computer screen.
Copeland pursed her lips and briefly closed her eyes, looking as though she was struggling internally with a decision. ‘I’m not in the habit of making complaints, but the fact is that I’m being stopped from doing my job.’
‘Excuse me?’ Pellacia asked. He leaned forward folding his arms on his desk.
‘I’ve been a DC for nearly four years. You know my history.
I worked in the rape and serious sexual offences unit for two years and then I moved to homicide and major crimes.
By the end of the year, I plan to sit my sergeant exams. The point is, guv, it may only have been a day but I’m not a probationary officer.
I know how to do my job, but Inspector Henley isn’t allowing me to do it.
She’s treating me like I’m a fifteen-year-old on work experience. ’
Pellacia let the silence sit as he resisted the urge to immediately jump to Henley’s defence.
‘So, you are making a complaint?’ he asked. ‘One day in.’
‘No, no,’ Copeland said defensively, turning around as though checking that she wasn’t being observed through the window in the door. ‘I’m not here to rock the boat, but, guv, earlier after you’d left, when Henley did the briefing, she shot me down. I’ve been an SIO in a case before.’
Pellacia raised his eyebrows.
‘Obviously not a murder investigation and definitely not something like this but I know how to work a major crime and the first thing you do, as an SIO, is to explore investigative strategies, provide investigative focus, co-ordinate, support and—’
‘I really don’t need you to quote sections of the major crime and investigation manual at me,’ Pellacia said.
‘The authorised professional practice for policing states that investigators need to be open to the ideas and experiences of others,’ Copeland said determinedly.
‘Inspector Henley should consult with her colleagues. Me, DS Stanford, Ramouter and Eastwood when trying to identify the most appropriate action to take in any given case.’
‘You said it wasn’t a complaint, but this is sounding very much like a complaint.’
Copeland shook her head. ‘I’m not complaining. Just stating a fact.’
Pellacia picked up a notebook and began to make notes in the hope that the lack of eye contact would stop Copeland from digging a deeper hole for herself.
‘Inspector Henley completely dismissed the enquiries I’d made that would progress the investigation, she talked down to me, embarrassed me in front of the team. I’m doing admin that, with all due respect, Joanna could do.’
Pellacia rubbed at his temple. ‘Explain the admin part,’ he said.
‘Cross referencing CRIS reports instead of going out there and speaking to important witnesses.’
‘You don’t think that going through CRIS reports, identifying patterns and analysing information is police work, that it’s important?’
Copeland sighed. ‘Of course it’s important,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t mind doing the work, but I would appreciate it if Henley, sorry Inspector Henley, afforded me the same respect that she gives to the rest of the team.’
‘Is that it?’
‘I just want to do my job, guv, but yes, that’s it,’ Copeland said, standing up. ‘Thank you for hearing me.’
‘Wonder what that was all about?’ Ramouter asked Stanford as they both watched Copeland pick up her phone from her desk and walk out of the office from where they stood in the kitchenette.
Stanford threw the teaspoon into the sink. ‘Probably having a moan about Henley,’ he said.
‘You don’t really think that, do you?’ Ramouter replied.
‘I’d put money on it. The tension between Henley and Copeland is as thick as the custard that my nan used to make.’
‘She’s just keen,’ Ramouter said. ‘And let’s be honest, it’s not easy joining you lot. Remember you had a bet running that I wouldn’t last six months in the SCU.’
‘That’s very true and also a reminder that I need to start a bet on Copeland. So, what do you reckon?’ Stanford said, walking back to his desk. ‘Twenty quid, she’ll be kicked out by the end of the next week?’
‘Wow? Ye of little faith,’ Ramouter laughed, reaching for the doughnuts on top of the microwave. ‘Fifty quid she’ll be made permanent.’
‘Bloody optimist. Just make sure your cash is in the tin by Friday,’ Stanford said. His phone rang. It took a couple of seconds to realise that 0161 was the area code for Manchester. He quickly answered.
‘This is DI Forfana. Serious sexual offences unit. Greater Manchester police. I’ve been on annual leave and came back to a bunch of messages on my desk. So, what can I help you with?’
‘Douglas Mantell’s murder is possibly linked to a series of murders that we’re investigating.’
‘Mantell was pulled from the canal well over a year ago, but even so, shouldn’t you be talking to the SIO from the homicide team?’
‘We already are but one of the unique features of our investigation is that all of our victims recently appeared in court and either walked away with an acquittal or a light sentence that wasn’t worth the paper it was written on.’
‘I’m assuming one of your line of enquiries is looking at anyone who would have been unhappy with the verdict?’
‘Exactly. Someone like Mantell I doubt would have had an outpouring of support. So, are you good to go?’
‘Fire away. I’ve got the case files open in front of me.’
‘Ok,’ Stanford said as he picked up a biro and smoothed out a page. ‘When did you first open the investigation into Mantell?’
‘Four years ago, Mantell’s daughter Gia first reported the allegations of sexual assault to her GP. She has a younger sister, Hazel who was nine years old at the time of the report. Gia said that she could see her dad looking at her sister the way he used to look at her and it unnerved her.’
There was a pause, where the only thing that Stanford could hear was the hum of office activity down the line. He heard Forfana kiss his teeth.
‘Sorry,’ Forfana said. ‘There are some things that you just can’t harden yourself to. Gia was five months pregnant when she made the allegations and had also found out that she was having girl.’
‘Her sister and the baby. It triggered her.’
‘Exactly. She broke down in front of her GP. Told him what her dad had done to her and what he’d made his friends do to her.’
‘His friends?’
‘Yeah, it’s turned into a much bigger investigation than we initially thought. Still ongoing. Mantell was just the tip of the iceberg. Gia’s GP directed her to SARC—’
‘The Sexual Assault Referral Centre?’
‘That’s it. She went to SARC, and the case came through to me.
She was understandably scared. She didn’t want to be responsible for breaking up her family, but she came in and gave her statement over several months.
I couldn’t ask for anything more from her really,’ Forfana’s voice softened with empathy.
‘We arrested and interviewed Mantell, hoping he’d break and give up the names of the others, but he didn’t.
He was charged and the court system being what it is, it took a while for the trial to come around and when it did …
I don’t know why the jury couldn’t all agree that the dirty pervert was guilty. ’
Forfana’s disappointment and sense of failure permeated through the phone. Stanford let the silence sit for a while.
‘Have you got kids?’ Forfana asked.
‘No. Well, nearly. We’re adopting. He’ll be with us in a couple of weeks.’
‘Congratulations but to be fair it doesn’t take having kids to feel that an injustice has been done. To feel angry.’
‘Was anyone else angry? With Mantell I mean,’ Stanford asked.
‘Mantell’s wife definitely wasn’t angry. I still don’t understand how she could stand by his side even after social services took Hazel. We had a lot of groups protesting outside court.’
‘What about any attacks against Mantell personally?’
Forfana laughed. ‘Take your pick,’ he said. ‘His trial was adjourned for a month because Mantell was attacked by his brother-in law. Can’t say I was sorry to hear that. He was then harassed by a couple of paedophile hunters once his name got into the papers.’
‘How bad was the harassment?’
‘Pretty bad. Somehow they got a copy of the MG5 against him and posted it on Facebook.’
‘How the hell did they get hold of the case summary?’
‘No idea. The only decent thing they did was to redact Gia’s name but everything else was out, his name, address, employer’s details and the allegations.’
‘Was that it, just the doxxing or was there more?’
‘No. The hunters, Karim Messenger and Gareth Humphreys, livestreamed themselves following Mantell and abusing him, throwing rubbish at him, calling him a pervert but they went too far. They livestreamed themselves beating the shit out of him.’
‘Absolute morons,’ said Stanford as he wrote the names down.
‘Why do you think his trial was adjourned for a month? Gareth Humphreys was Mantell’s brother-in-law. Was I sorry that the sick pervert ended up with a broken wrist, and lost three of his teeth? Absolutely not. Was I annoyed that the trial was delayed? Definitely.’
‘So, what happened to Messenger and Humphreys?’
‘The irony is that they both spent more time in prison than Mantell ever did. They both got eighteen months for Section 20 GBH.’
‘Were there any more incidents like this with Mantell?’
‘Not in regard to my case. I’m not sure if the team dealing with his murder discovered anything, although I doubt it, considering the case has gone cold.’
‘You wouldn’t happen to know where Messenger and Humphreys are now?’
‘Those two seem to like prison. Back in Strangeways and, before you get too excited, they were already serving their sentence when Mantell was killed. The idiots were arrested and charged a couple of days after they livestreamed the assault on Mantell. Two weeks later they pleaded guilty at Manchester Crown Court and were given an immediate custodial sentence.’
‘What are they inside for?’
‘Four years for ABH and kidnapping.’
‘Thank you. You’ve been a great help,’ said Stanford, tapping his pen against the desk.
‘As I said, I can’t say I’m sorry that Mantell’s dead but it’s not right for people to take justice into their own hands.’
‘No, you’re right. Just one more thing before you go. Were Messenger and Gareth part of a larger group or were they out on their own?’
‘I think they were out on their own but best to ask the SIOs for their cases. But there’s one more thing. Humphreys just got an additional two years. You would think that being in prison would sober him up a bit.’
‘What did he do?’ Stanford asked.
‘GBH,’ said Forfana. ‘Shanked his cell mate. Apparently, the injuries to his cellmate’s head were so bad that the doctors said it looked like a scalping.’