“I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to move your car. You can’t stop here. We’re trying to deal with an incident.” Terry Grier was beginning to lose patience with all the reporters and other busybodies that had been arriving since this incident began. He was reaching the stage where it was fast becoming an effort to remain polite. He figured that these two were probably more media types, although the slightly shorter one looked more like a minder than a reporter. Whoever they were, they weren’t staying there.
“It’s alright son,” Dillon said, producing his warrant card. “Murder squad. I’m DI Dillon. This is DCI Tyler. Who’s in charge here?” The two detectives ducked under the outer cordon and continued towards the site entrance without waiting for a reply.
Grier, who was completely caught out by the unexpected move, had to rush to get back in front of them. He gave them a flustered account of the situation as they walked. “Sir, your Chief Superintendent is already here. He’s just inside the entrance with Inspector Speed, the Incident Manager. The FME’s been and gone, and the forensic people are well into their act. I think they were just waiting for you to arrive before removing the body.”
He received a curt nod from Tyler in reply. Grier felt awkward and inadequate next to these men. Their quiet confidence, and the unspoken air of authority that they radiated was intimidating.
As they strode through the site entrance Tyler spotted Holland some way off to his left, already kitted out in a white paper suit. He was standing next to a uniformed Inspector who also wore a white paper suit, although he had slipped out of the upper half and wore it with the arms tied around his waist. What the effect lacked in style it made up for in terms of comfort and practicality. Both were drinking coffee. Holland waved to them and indicated that they should stay where they were.
It was highly likely that the perpetrator had gone directly from the gates to the body deposition site. As a precaution, the ground between the two points had been designated as the common approach route, and it would be kept sterile until it had been forensically examined. Hopefully, if the first responders hadn’t already trampled it into oblivion, this would prevent any physical or forensic evidence that the killer had inadvertently left there from being obliterated or contaminated.
A strict log was being maintained of all persons entering the crime scene, their reason for doing so and the duration of their stay. Special entries would be made in a separate column for any person crossing the red tape into the inner cordon where the victim remained in situ.
Anyone entering the inner cordon, which was where Tyler and Dillon needed to go, would be required to wear white evidence gatherers suits like the ones currently worn by Holland and the lab team.
A few minutes later, Holland joined them. He shook Tyler’s hand warmly. “Morning Jack, Dillon. Sorry to spoil your day off, but I think you’ll both agree it was necessary,” he said sombrely, nodding over towards the dead girl.
“It’s okay, sir, we understand,” Jack replied.
Tyler both liked and respected George Holland. He knew that the man was as smart as they came, and was famous for having a ‘can do’ attitude, even in the face of great adversity. Holland got the job done, whatever it took. Most of all, he was intensely protective of those who worked for him. Holland motioned for the uniformed officer to join them. The man quickly slipped his arms back into his suit and negotiated the common approach route.
“This is Inspector Speed, one of the first officers to arrive on scene. He’s also the Incident Manager, and he’s done everything that could be done to preserve the scene. Without a doubt, he is the best person to fill you two in on what has happened, thus far.” Holland nodded to Speed.
“Thank you, sir,” Ray acknowledged the senior man. He nodded to a SOCO standing near the outer cordon perimeter. The woman immediately came over with a bundle of paper suits, thin paper masks to cover mouth and nose, and plastic shoe covers. Without a word, she handed them to the two new arrivals. Tyler and Dillon began to slip them over their street clothes.
“Thank you,” Holland said, dismissing her with a grateful nod.
“So, what can you tell us then?” Jack asked, zipping up his paper suit.
In clear, concise terms Ray Speed ran the two murder squad officers through the known chain of events. He gave a detailed account, omitting nothing of importance. His summary of events included the watchman’s evidence, the doctor’s findings, and his own observations.
Tyler was impressed. The two detectives had questions, lots of them, as Speed led them to the body.
“Who else has been near the body, and did they wear paper suits and overshoes?” Jack asked.
“Only me, Nick Bartholomew, DC Kevin Murray and the FME have been inside the yard. Nick and I did walk through the common approach route, but we didn’t know what we had at that point and we were acutely conscious that there might be someone in need of urgent medical care. Only the doctor and I have come into physical contact with the body. I’m sorry; none of us were suited and booted. The paper suits and overshoes only arrived with the CSM There were none available at the nick.”
Jack grimaced. He would have been happier if everyone who had entered the yard had worn the white coveralls and plastic overshoes, but it was done now and there was no point in crying over spilt milk.
“What about gloves?” Jack asked next, meaning white rubber gloves. Hopefully, no one had touched the body, or anything else within the scene, without first donning them.
“We all wore two pairs of latex gloves, sir,” Speed informed him. At least there had been a
