collection in the area. Search all dustbins and grates on the estate. We’re not going to find it but we need to have looked.’ Brook sighed and then yawned. This was the part of the job he hated most. Clearing away the debris, the procedural minutiae that delayed everything, prevented him bringing his skills to bear on the nub of the case. ‘There’s so much garbage to organise.’
‘When do we speak to Jason?’
‘This morning. But you’re going to Pizza Parlour first. We need to know how the killer set this up in case Jason doesn’t know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well if Forensics confirms that the pizzas were drugged, it means our killer must have delivered them…’
‘So he’s used them to make sure the family are unconscious which suggests he came back later, after they’d been eaten.’
‘Right.’ Brook paused, waiting to see if his point had hit home.
‘But if he’s delivered them, how can Pizza Parlour have taken the order?’
‘Good question, John.’
Noble thought for a moment then his jaw dropped open. ‘Christ! The bastard rang the Wallis family. He’s taken the order pretending to be Pizza Parlour.’ Noble shook his head and squinted at the floor. ‘Hang on, you wouldn’t order food from a takeaway that called out of the blue. Not unless they were giving it away.’ Noble looked up at Brook’s expectant face and smiled. ‘Maybe they were. Of course-a free meal like a promotion or prize or something. Who’s gonna turn that down? Was that the MO in the other case?’
‘We thought so. Though we never had any survivors to confirm it.’
‘But not pizzas.’
‘No. A video recorder and a CD system.’
‘Like winning a competition,’ Noble nodded with a smile. ‘Neat.’
Brook checked his watch and helped himself to another cigarette, looking at Noble for an objection. He lit up and took another huge pull. Soon the news would be hitting the streets of Derby. Not that he expected The Reaper to be within earshot. He was long gone.
Having roused his complaining car for the fourth time that morning, Brook dropped in at his flat on the way to the hospital. He needed to shower and change before meeting Noble there.
After showering he lay on the bed for five minutes and closed his eyes to relieve the stinging. Before he left, he rang the station to requisition a car for the afternoon. He couldn’t keep traipsing around in the Sprite. The water pump wouldn’t stand for it.
He booked a taxi to take him to the DRI. As he waited for the cab, he stared at the still-flashing answering machine, but decided against ringing Terri back.
Too often, in the last ten years, he’d danced around his feelings for his daughter, curtailing difficult conversations with phoney interruptions. Sod’s Law dictated that the cab driver would honk his horn the moment he started talking to her. He didn’t want another, albeit genuine, interruption to reinforce her jaundiced view of his love for her. Now he needed to talk, needed to spend some time with her, even if all he could embrace was a disembodied voice.
Noble was late so Brook left him a message at hospital reception, telling him to wait. He didn’t want him seeing Jason Wallis on his own. Then he went to see PC Aktar. He was sitting up in bed reading
‘I hate to butt in on someone trying to improve himself Brook was amused by Aktar’s panic-stricken attempt to acknowledge his superior-lying horizontal in hospital-issue pyjamas-though he made sure he didn’t show it.
‘I’m sorry, guv. I wasn’t expectin’ yer, anybody…’
Brook noted Aktar’s broad northern accent. Not a trace of Asian inflection. He kept silent while Aktar flustered, determined to make him sweat. There was an empty plastic bag on a chair beside the bed. Brook picked it up and pulled out Aktar’s boots from the locker and slid them into the bag.
‘Give these to Noble when he comes in. Forensics needs all the shoes from the Wallis house.’
‘Guv? Is there…?’
Brook put a finger to his lips and held Aktar’s dark eyes in his own. ‘Don’t ever call me guv, Constable. If you’re still in the Force after today, you’ll call me sir or Inspector, is that clear?’
‘Guv?’
‘Is that clear?’
PC Aktar was suddenly very abashed and Brook began to feel sorry for him. ‘Yes sir.’
‘That’s better. Your career depends on the answers you give me in the next few minutes,’ said Brook, peeling one of the photographs he’d set aside earlier, from his jacket. ‘Look at this.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘What do you see?’
‘It’s the living room of Mr and Mrs…’
‘What do you see, Constable?’
‘The CD player in the Wallis house.’
‘What do you notice?’
‘N-Nothing, sir.’
‘Exactly. It’s been turned off. DS Noble tells me that a Mr Singh went round to the Wallis household to complain about the noise. Do you understand?’
‘Yes sir. I think so.’
‘Explain it to me then, Constable.’
‘It was Mr Singh, sir. He went round. Said the front door was open. He went in and turned off the CD player. Said it was on very loud. I told him he shouldn’t have but he said he had no idea, at that time, what had happened. Until he turned the lights on, he thought they were all asleep.’
‘The lights were off?’
‘Yes sir. According to Mr Singh.’
‘Then how did he manage to turn off the CD player?’
‘The display, sir. He said it was very bright, sir. He could see to move round the room okay and well…’
Brook’s tone softened. ‘I see.’ He tossed the picture of the partially eaten pizza towards Aktar who examined it briefly before looking away. He wouldn’t lift his eyes from the bed cover. He looked, and clearly felt, a fool. ‘You’re very lucky, Constable. I think we may be able to forgive one mistake as your actions haven’t compromised the case-this time.’
‘It won’t happen again, sir.’
‘It better not. And I wouldn’t mention it to anyone unless you want the Force and yourself held up to ridicule.’
‘Don’t worry, sir.’
‘When are you out of here?’
‘This afternoon, sir.’
‘Report for duty to DS Noble, he’ll have some chores for you. Who’s your partner?’
‘WPC Jones, sir.’
‘Wendy Jones.’ Brook felt a tic of apprehension. ‘Good officer. Take her with you. This order is direct from the Chief Superintendent and you take your orders from DS Noble and myself. Understand?’
‘Perfectly, sir.’
Brook made to leave but turned back. ‘And Constable. The next time you feel peckish at a crime scene, send out for a bag of chips.’
Aktar’s foolish expression returned. ‘Yes sir. Thank you, sir.’
Brook drained his third plastic coffee of the day and shuddered. He tossed the thin beaker into the adjacent bin. ‘What have you got, John?’
Noble flicked a notebook. ‘Pizza Parlour didn’t send anyone round to the Wallis house with anything last night and you were right, they don’t deliver in vans. I spoke to the manager. He said they did have an identical order to the one at the crime scene. A Four Seasons, an American Hot and a Seafood. All family size…’
