Gut Instinct (3 page)

“Hello” her husky voice came on the line.

“Hi hon
ey
, did you get my message? He asked endearingly.

“Yes, yes, that’s fine
, no problem.
”

“Well I’ve just finished up here now love and wondered if you fancied some company?” he asked anxiously hoping for a
n
affirmative
reply.

“Yes, no problem, I’ll put some wine on ice” and she put down the phone before he could reply, knowing that he would be requesting something ‘naughty’ and not in the mood to play telephone sex games.

He grabbed his coat and headed out
of the
the station whistling, happy that he was going to get laid.

Chapter Three

Sunday 9
th
March

It was 8.30 a.m. Sunday morning and Stephen was preparing his notes for the 9.00
a.m
meeting he had called with his team. 

They’d all arrived
,
he ha
d seen them wandering in
,
some
were
buzzing around with excited anticipation and others
were
dragging their feet,
candidly pissed off with being called in on their day off.

It was just a small team, down to the usual limited resources, a team of eight, but all had come in
and
that was the main thing
, he
could cope with their disincl
inati
on as long as they had turned in
. 
He sensed that t
hey
would need
all the man power they had for this one.

He headed to the men’s room to smarten his tie, have one last check over that he was looking the part and b
y 8.50 he was heading for the
conference
room, now
also known as the training room. T
here was never any training on a Sunday
,
so he was sure they’d be left alone. 

Punctuality was his middle name, he always tried to be on time, he hated it when people were late so tried to practice what he preached.

The room was fuller than he had expected,
ten people in total,
two beat
Bobbies
were sat talking to Derek and John
. They had probably come to offer their assistance, which was good of them he thought
,
if they hadn’t got the ul
terior motive of wanting to join the plain
clothes division, but what the hell the more hands on deck, the quicker we will find this asshole and book him.

The room was bustling with conversation all contributing their ideas to the “who
dun nit
” mystery that was surrounding this case, no doubt.  But now was the time for them to share those ideas in an open forum.

Stephen put up his hand to command silence and the whole room stopped talking instantaneously.  He loved that, he loved his own authority and the fact that people responded so quickly to his authority.  It was one of the reasons he loved his job, that and the money of course.

“Right as is the usual procedure let’s look at what we have got up to now, and then we will look at where we are going with this” Stephen said confidently and firmly, everyone listened attentively, as some had only
just
come on that morning and had only gathered titbits from their colleagues.

“We have a thirty five year old single mother found dead in her home
.  The victims name was Jane Smith.”

A snigger went around the room, amused by the
girl’s
name which is not surprising as it significantly sounded like ‘Jane Doe.’  Stephen ignored this idiocy and carried on.

“
Time of murder is reported to be between the hours of 2 a.m. and 4 a.m.” he looked around the room at the
now subdued faces of his team,
as they realised
that he was in no mood for joking about and continued.

“
There was no forced entry so that leads us to think that she knew the perpetrator.
The girl was suffocated to death with her own pillow and ha
d in her hand a card that said
Guess who.” He paused for a couple of seconds to let this bit of information register.

“She was found by her sister who was babysitting her child, and she made a call
to 999 at around 11.15 a.m.

Jane
has an ex partner, the father of the her four year old boy who is currently working in Germany and due back next week, reportedly their relationship although once volatile is now amicable. She has no current boyfriend that h
er sister is aware of” he ended, that was it that was all he had to offer.

The team sat there, waiting for more, expecting more and he could see their disappointment when they realised he had none and was now finished.

“So, Derek, John what do you have?”
he asked.

“Not much more sir I’m afraid” John replied “She’d been to a nightclub, Jason’s with two friends, they had a good night, no-one specifically hanging around them or chatting them up, they were just enjoying themselves as girls do. 

At the end of the night, they went to a burger van and got something to eat, again nothing unusual happened then the three of them got a taxi, Jane getting out second.  That was the last
they saw of her” John finished
letting
Derek take over.

“None of the neighbours knew her too well, she’d only moved in her current home around six months ago” Derek accounted glad to have a piece of the action.

“They stated that she was a quiet girl, didn’t really mix,
and seemed
a good mum to her little boy.  No visitors seen going to her house, only her sister and they heard nothing unusual on the night in question”

Again there was a
n
interlude of silence, people waiting to hear more, astonished that there was nothing more, nothing to get their teeth into, not even a nibble of something.

Stephen once more broke the silence, feeling as discouraged as his team felt but trying hard not to show it.

“We are still waiting for the pathologist’s report, so hopefully that will give us something
more to go on.  However, I’m opening the floor now for any suggestions or ideas?”

Silence.

What could anyone say, there was nothing to say,
there were no ingredients so how the hell were
they to bake the cake, Stephen thought despondently.

He was just about to give people their tasks for the day and end the meeting when he noticed Paul, one of his team
members last to join his squad, with his hand half in the air.

“Yes Paul” he said.

“The card sir, it could be a calling card”

“A calling card” he asked
.

“
Yes this
is the
m.o
. of a serial killer sir, something they always leave at the scene”

Stephen was feeling irritated, this guy rubbed him up the wrong way anyway
with his University degree
, thinking he knew it all just because he’d done a degree in criminology.

“I’m sorry” he replied aware that all eyes were on him
“is there another death that I’m unaware of?”

“Well no...............
”

“Then
my understanding is that for it to be a serial killer there has to be more than one body, so
until there is let’s cut with the psychobabble crap, and concentrate on this case. 

Police work is NOT about psychobabble it’s about getting out on the streets and listening to your gut instinct and working with that.  Have I made myself clear?” he asked directing his piercing blue eyes at Paul and not faltering.

“Yes sir” Paul answered visibly struggling to restrain his anger.

“Good I’ll be in my office if anyone needs
me
and Paul
”

“Yes”

“Isn’t paranoia pending a panic
attack!
”

The whole room sniggered as Stephen
left the office abruptly managing to conceal his own anger at the stupidity of this imbecile that he was forced to have on his team.

Chapter Four

It was late Sunday evening and
Paul had just gotten in he was still fuming from the meeting this morning, stomping around the house, banging plates down on his kitchen bar, cursing at the audacity of his boss. 
His anger had rankled all day and he’d struggled to let it go.

Stephen
had deliberately humiliated him in front of his colleagues.
Made him look a twat!
 

Well he hadn’t heard the last of that
!

“Prick” he shouted out loud,

N
o-one would hear him as he lived alone.
  He lived in a rented flat after separating from his girlfriend, it was very basic, but he had all the things that he needed. 

His mum would pop round
occasionally and tidy the place up as mothers do and then he wouldn’t be able to find anything and she’d turn up with something new sometimes
and try to make the place look more homely, bloody fluffy cushions or throws
or something,
but he very rarely brought anything himself, unless it was electronic

Paul had started his career as a trainee
electrician;
he’d
messed around a lot in his youth and looked for trouble,
in fact thinking back he was always up to no good. 

Mercifully he
was clever enough not to get caught.  A couple of driving offences was all he had and
thankfully
they had not affected him getting in
to
the police force.

It was inevitable he would join the police one day he thought.  It had been on the cards since he was born when his mother had named him Paul Christian.  PC Spencer she’d alw
ays
said
had a nice ring to it; imagine if you joined the police force, you would be PC
PC
Spencer.

It wasn’t his life plan
though;
he
had
preferred being on the other side of the law when he was younger, nicking cars, smoking dope and partying every weekend at some rave or another. Downing ecstasy like they were
smarties
.

He had changed his life around when he was twenty five and gone back to college redone his GCSE’s and sat three A’ levels with A grades and
consequently
had been accepted into Coventry University to do a degree in criminology. 

It was then that he had decided to join the police, found it a little amusing to be honest
, bad boy turned good.

His family had been real proud of him too, glad to see that he was doing something constructive with his life, he must have been a worry he thought, especially to his mum. 

She had been a single parent and brought him and his two younger sisters up on her own, she liked to think she’d made a good job of it, and she had.
  They had
fell
out when his life went a little wayward, needless to say she didn’t know how to handle him, but they were close again and that was important to him.

Look at him
now;
he’d managed to get into the p
l
ain clothes squad pretty quickly making some of his mates jealous.  That was the way it worked in the police, you either worked your way up, or took a degree and jumped the queue.

He’d jumped the queue but h
e
ha
dn’t join
ed
the police to be
humiliated
,
not by some
wanker
that thought he knew it all.

Paul
knew
that
his anger would fester all night if he didn’t have a joint, so he got out his stash
and began to roll one knowing that this would calm him down, chill him out.

He didn’t use any other drugs anymore, just cannabis now and again, well most nights if he was honest, it was one last bit of rebellion he wasn’t prepared to give up, not unless they started drug testing at the station, then he’d have no choice. He’d have to stop if he wanted to keep his job.