One Bad Turn (11 page)

‘Bang goes Curtis’s Hate theory,’ Coupland said to Mallender in an undertone, ‘other than someone who hates women.’

James Grimshaw and Peter Wellbeck had been taken home following questioning, given time to freshen in readiness for the press appeal. Pool cars were sent to collect both men at 5.30pm and they walked into the room being used for the appeal behind DCI Mallender together with family members and their shared FLO. Sharon Mathers’ brother sat to the right of James, while Maria Wellbeck’s husband, Pete, sat alone. He had arrived with a female colleague that Coupland had sent packing when she emerged from the car. Too young, too blonde and far too many teeth for the public to feel any compassion towards the young widower. ‘You want sympathy, man, not to become the target of an internet troll,’ Coupland had hissed.

‘My wife’s parents wanted to come but someone needs to look after the twins.’

‘What about your parents?’ Coupland asked him as they filed into the press room behind Mallender.

‘They bought a place in France a few years back after Dad had a stroke, they are flying back tonight.’

Superintendent Curtis had insisted that Coupland and Ashcroft join Mallender, albeit not at the table with the families but standing off to the side. There may be questions they could specifically answer, the Super had said, although the invitation hadn’t been extended to other members of the murder squad.

Curtis pulled his tunic straight with a firm tug and walked to the table before sitting down on the furthest away chair. A place card with his name and rank sat on the table in front of him. He held a sheet of paper in his hand. He looked out at the assembled journalists and cleared his throat. The press conference began.

Chapter 7

Ten minutes later, everyone filed out of the room, the victims’ families being led in one direction and the press shunted in another. The press officer had called the appeal to a sudden halt after Mallender’s admission that the cases may be connected for fear of the journalists concocting a serial killer angle. ‘It needed saying,’ Coupland had said supportively when they were away from the glare of the cameras, but he knew Mallender would be under pressure from Curtis to prove or disprove this as soon as possible before the press starting criticizing the way the investigations were being handled.

‘And when exactly were you going to fucking tell me?’ Curtis rounded on Mallender once he thought they were out of earshot. They were standing at the foot of the stairs, five minutes more and they would be ensconced in Curtis’s office but this was a reprimand that couldn’t wait. Coupland hung back in case he was needed but a discreet shake from Mallender’s head told him to keep his distance. ‘Sir, I-’ Mallender began,

‘-How do you think that made me look?’ Curtis hissed; at least they were getting to the crux of it. ‘I didn’t want to raise the possibility of another line of enquiry until we’d eliminated both men but thanks to you the press are wetting themselves with joy…’

Coupland had heard enough. ‘To be fair, Sir, those journalists can run rings round the best of ‘em…’ The atmosphere in the corridor plummeted to cadaver cool. Coupland drew breath, chanced a look at Mallender who tried to silence him with a look. He ploughed on:

‘…We’ve followed due process Sir, there’s no Hate Crime angle, the partners have checked out, and forensics are waving a bloody big flag saying the cases are connected. You know as well as I do there’s a leak in every force, any journalist worth his salt will be keeping up with our progress step by step. What was the boss to do? He was asked point blank could the killer be the same person, was he to deny it and make us look like liars when the journo prints a leaked email?’

Curtis looked as though his head was about to explode. ‘Shut it,’ he spat, ‘I’m sure as hell not interested in your fucking opinion, Sergeant.’ What a difference four hours made, Coupland thought sourly, shifting his balance from one foot to the other.

Damian Mathers was standing by the station’s main exit when Coupland made his getaway from Curtis’s dressing down. He looked as though he was waiting for someone, raised his hand as Coupland approached. ‘Can I offer you a lift?’ Coupland asked politely, hoping the lawyer wasn’t going to rip into him too. ‘I’ve hired a car,’ Mathers said, ‘I just wanted to say thanks for what you’re doing, I’m sorry if I went off on one earlier, you know, in your boss’s office.’

‘Only to be expected, in the circumstances.’ Coupland responded. ‘Besides,’ he added, smiling, ‘think I missed the worst of it.’

‘You did,’ Mathers smiled back, but then, as though remembering why he was there, his face fell in on itself, ‘it’s just that, me and Shaz, we were close growing up, even found time for each other through college and uni, then I moved to London and, well, suddenly it’s hard to find the time.’

‘She’s still your sister,’ Coupland said, ‘whether you lived in each other’s pockets or never saw each other, and you want to do what’s right by her now.’

‘I never expected this, though,’ Mathers’ broad shoulders dipped.

‘Most people don’t.’

‘I’m not just saying that,’ Mathers added quickly, ‘she kept her wits about her, you know?’

Coupland nodded, ‘Three brothers,’ he replied, recalling an earlier conversation with Sharon’s boyfriend James, ‘be enough to keep any girl on her toes growing up,’

‘Not just us, our dad too. He was a cop, you see. You got kids?’ Coupland’s heart expanded as he nodded. ‘Then you’ll know what it’s like,’ Mathers continued, ‘he was on her case all the time we were growing up, about keeping safe. It was hard at times for her, being the only girl, she had to earn the freedom her brothers took for granted.’ Coupland sighed, ‘No one could’ve accounted for this, not even your old man.’ Something cold slithered around his chest as he said this. He longed to be home, on the wrong side of Amy if need be but home all the same, where he could close his front door against the world.

‘Your Dad, where was he stationed?’

‘Pendleton, been retired twenty years or so now though, couldn’t wait to be done with it.’ Coupland could only imagine. ‘I was a rookie then, what’s his name?’

‘Nathaniel,’ Coupland cast his mind back, there wouldn’t have been many black officers serving in Salford back in the day, this Nathaniel could even have been one of the first. There was an officer he’d see every once in a while, mainly when the big football matches were on and reinforcements were needed. A quiet man, measured, went about his duties with dignity, despite the insults flying around back then, and not just from the supporters. ‘That’s why I kicked off a bit when I got here, you see.’ Damian continued, ‘I remember some of the things my father used to tell me, the kind of things he’d witnessed as a serving officer, injuries sustained while in police custody, it’s why I became a lawyer. The number of black suspects who misplaced their footing going down to the custody suite, you know the score.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Coupland’s tone was sharp, though the man had a point.

‘You saying it doesn’t happen anymore?’ Mathers challenged.

‘I’m saying if I ever saw anything like that I’d be up on a disciplinary charge myself because I’d damn well make sure it didn’t happen a second time,’ he said sourly.

‘Not all like you, though,’ Mathers reasoned.

‘You’d be surprised.’

Mathers smiled, said no more about it, shook the sergeant’s hand.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ Coupland assured him. He watched the lawyer climb into his car, the tail lights glowing in the dim sky. His thoughts returned to Nathaniel Mathers, another cop for whom the past was not so rosy.

*

Incident room briefing, Saturday morning

The night shift had been asked to stay on. Following the previous evening’s press conference both investigations were to take a significant turn. ‘I’m going to merge both cases,’ Mallender informed the teams assembled in the incident room. ‘As you know the partners of both women have been eliminated from our enquiries and as yet questioning friends and family has drawn a blank in terms of motive - there are no lovers, no love rivals, no jealous work colleagues on our radar. We now have to consider the fact that the trace evidence found at both crime scenes mean they are connected in some way.’ A time served constable at the back of the room raised his hand, ‘Traces of what?’

Mallender looked at Coupland, he’d not been stationed at Salford long, didn’t know the officers as well as his sergeant. What he wanted to know was whether this man was a potential press leak and if so, what harm could this information do if it got out. Coupland had no such qualms, the pockets of the press were deep enough to turn heads at any level, and George here, if he was responsible, wouldn’t do it out of spite, he was one of the most easy going men Coupland had worked with, and he wasn’t looking for glory or to see something he’d overheard get into print - he didn’t bother with the daily papers, he was a Racing Post man through and through, with a wife in the civil service they weren’t short of a few bob either. The truth was very few culprits were found; sadder still was the fact that even if they were, someone else would be quick enough to fill their shoes, police pay being what it was. Coupland looked around the room; several faces stared at him expectantly. Mallender nodded for him to take over. ‘Forensics have identified identical clothing fibres at both sites. Sadly no skin or hair, but the fibres suggest it’s the same person.’

‘But I thought Sharon Mathers put up a fight,’ another voice called out.

Coupland nodded, ‘Her injuries suggested that, but when she lashed out she didn’t break the perpetrator’s skin. She may have shielded her face with her hands, which would explain the damage to them if she was warding off blows from a heavy instrument. Until we get the full PM report back we’re just surmising.’

‘Any lead on the fibres?’

‘The lab has promised to have something for us by close of play Monday, so it’d be good by then to have a suspect we can match it to,’ a low murmur of agreement rippled around the room.

‘These are still opportunist attacks though?’ Robinson asked. Coupland was about to answer when Mallender took over, ‘They may be opportunist, but there are usually some characteristics that whittle potential victims onto the killer’s shortlist,’ he reminded him.

‘The two women couldn’t be more different, though,’ Turnbull observed.

‘How so?’ demanded Ashcroft, ‘Maybe they had the same taste in music, shopped at the same store…’

‘Exactly,’ Mallender cut in quickly, trying to diffuse the tension he could sense in the room. Merging teams was always tricky, a good team had a synergy, built up a head of steam far quicker than lone working ever could, but asking the officers to regroup when some were just getting into their stride could throw the investigation off course, especially when there were so many personalities to navigate. Turnbull had a tendency to speak first before engaging his brain, he wasn’t malicious, but he was thoughtless. Mallender tried to move the briefing on. ‘We need to consider motive - was it a thwarted sexual attack? Just because he wasn’t successful doesn’t mean that’s not his underlying intention. DS Coupland and DC Ashcroft, can you check out registered sex offenders in say, a ten mile radius, pay anyone who’s out on licence a visit who has missed an appointment with the probation service in the last couple of months, in particular anyone whose reason for not attending doesn’t stack up.’

‘My pleasure,’ said Coupland, ‘but what about those convicted of non-sexual assault, it could be the killer just doesn’t like women?’ Mallender nodded, ‘Fair point. Robinson, can you look into that, including cases where charges were later dropped, it could be their earlier assaults were just a stepping stone to murder. We also need to look at what the women had in common, as DC Ashcroft suggested. Hobbies, places they drank-’

‘-or used to drink, Maria Wellbeck didn’t get out much since she’d had the twins, according to her mate,’ Coupland cut in.

Mallender nodded, adding: ‘Were they members of the same gym? Did they travel on the same bus? Had there been any work carried out at the house, could they have hired the same building firm? Had they sold anything on eBay recently? Where had they gone to school? Turnbull, can you do a full background check and flag up anything they have in common.’

Apart from being dead, of course, though Coupland kept this thought to himself.

Coupland and Ashcroft returned to their desks to pull up names from the sex offenders register and download offender profiles which matched violent assaults towards women. Ashcroft ploughed through the MAPPA (Multi Agency Public Protection Arrangements) database. The vast majority of MAPPA offenders were managed through one agency, with information being shared across other relevant organisations as deemed necessary. The agencies included Duty to Care agencies (DTC) such as youth offending teams, local education authorities, housing, social services, NHS and providers of electronic monitoring services (tags). The probation service identified which offenders would require MAPPA management when released into the community. Planning for these cases tended to start six months before the release date.

The case management system used by police to manage MAPPA offenders in category 1 (registered sex offenders) was ViSOR. The searches Ashcroft carried out showed that one offender had recently been assessed by Greater Manchester Police Public Protection Unit, using the Risk Matrix 2000 tool applied to all adult male offenders aged 18 and over. A red flag had been placed beside his name. ‘I’m getting the same name floating to the top a couple of times,’ he called over to Coupland as he brought him a file:

John Malone was a 58 year old disgraced head teacher. He’d taken over as head at Hazeldean Grammar fifteen years ago after five years as deputy at a neighbouring school. Impeccable record then two years before retirement a pupil complained he’d behaved inappropriately towards her after school. Her aunt had been on the board of governors and recalled the previous year a similar allegation had been hotly disputed by the head to the extent that the board had decided not to report the matter to the police, believing that the girl had been malicious in her claims. This time, the board member reassured her sister they would not be so lax. The following day he was arrested. During the investigation twelve ex pupils came forward alleging he’d abused them, some going back as far as 1983 when he’d been a peripatetic teacher in Eccles. He’d completed an eight year sentence before being let out on licence, was now living in a flat in Pendlebury. Coupland skim read the file, making notes. He swivelled his chair round so that he was facing DC Turnbull’s desk. ‘What high schools did our victims go to?’ Turnbull’s tongue poked through his lips as he consulted his notes, ‘Maria Wellbeck went to Mossbank High,’ he closed one file and opened another. He ran his finger down a couple of pages, ‘Sharon Mathers went to Hazeldean Grammar.’