Carton winked at him and then giggled before turning back to continue his study of the sketches on the back wall. Shit, the idiot thinks I’m saying that for Alice’s benefit. With a sigh, he walked over to Alice. ‘Looks like you’re in charge, Al. Do you want me to move out of here?’
Alice’s dark eyes met his, assessing him. Gus refused to flinch under her intense scrutiny. Finally, she spoke. ‘No, no I don’t expect you to move out. I also don’t expect you to be an active investigator in this, but I’m also wise enough to realise that your expertise could help move the investigation forward. You have no official capacity in this room. You will investigate whatever else lands on your desk. You won’t have access to any evidence so your name is not on the chain, but I’m not going to exclude you.’
This was more than he’d expected. And he appreciated it. ‘Thanks, Al.’
She shrugged. ‘I get to use your brains, and I’ll get all the credit when we catch this fucker. Win win, I’d say.’
She handed him a file. ‘Just got a call in about a suspected murder near Keighley. This one’s got your name on it.’
Gus accepted the file with a shrug, flipped through the meagre contents and winked at Alice. ‘Laters?’
Chapter 23
Bradford
Gus hated domestic murders. They were the worst kind. Usually the result of overindulgence in alcohol, drugs, or a combination of both and he was dreading this. He pulled in behind the CSI vans and waved to the uniformed officer who was skilfully running the cordon. As he approached it, ready to sign himself into the crime scene, Gus saw a familiar figure, hands in pockets and shoulders slumped standing nearby. For a moment he couldn’t place why the man was familiar, then it struck him. It was Hissing Sid. He looked very different without his CSI suit on. Gus moved over to stand beside him. ‘What you doing here, Sid? Day off and can’t keep away from work, eh?’
Sid’s face didn’t break into its normal smart-ass grin as he turned to Gus. Instead, he nodded towards the bungalow. ‘That’s one of my team in there.’
For a second, Gus was confused. Why was Sid outside if his team was inside? Then it dawned on him. ‘You mean the victim is one of your team?’
Sid nodded. ‘Yep. Been on the job for over fifteen years and never have I had one of my own as the victim. Plenty of your lot, and that were bad enough, but never one of my own.’ He exhaled. ‘That’s why my team’s not here processing the scene. But…’ He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t not be here, not for one of my own, like. Erica Smedley had been on the team for a few years. Couldn’t just leave her on her own, like.’
Gus remembered Erica. He hadn’t taken to the woman – a bit too full of herself for his liking – but that was immaterial right now. Standing in respectful silence for a few moments, he and Sid observed the comings and goings from the front door of the small bungalow. Finally, Sid spoke again. ‘She didn’t turn up for her shift nor did she answer her phone. That’s not like Erica, so I came over.’
He shrugged. ‘You know, we get to be such untrusting buggers in our line of work, don’t we? Anyway, I scouted round when she didn’t answer the door, phoned her again and heard it ringing inside, so I phoned the plods.’
‘No, I get that. My first thought would have been the same as yours, Sid – and you were right, she was in trouble.’ Gus’s words didn’t appear to reassure the CSI manager, so he continued. ‘I’ll do my best for her, you know that, right?’
Sid nodded, shuffling his feet as he did so.
‘What do you know so far?’
‘She’s not one of my favourite colleagues, I have to admit.’ Sid put his head on one side. ‘Actually, she probably wasn’t anybody’s favourite colleague. Could be a bit of a cowbag. Snidey to the other women, flirty in a malicious way to the men. But she didn’t deserve this. According to the head CSI, it wasn’t a domestic though, Gus. She was strangled in her bed – no sign of a fight or owt.’
Gus let it pass that the head CSI had shared the info with Sid. He’d have done the same if the situations were reversed and Sid, for all his faults, was not a blabber mouth. He’d keep it tight to his chest. He’d just needed to know. Nodding, Gus squeezed his arm. ‘I’ll head in now, Sid. Hang about and I’ll treat you to a coffee when I’m done.’
Sid smiled. The first one Gus had seen from the man since he arrived. ‘I’m glad it’s you, Gus. You’re one of the best. You’ll get whoever did this.’
The words pleased Gus. He might have been sidelined from the other case, but it did make him feel better that Sid had such faith in him, even if this case wasn’t the one he wanted to be working.
Suited, booted, masked, and gloved, Gus headed inside. He’d chosen not to take any of his team from what he considered the main investigation, instead he’d work with a DC from another team if necessary. As Sid had already told him, there was no sign of a struggle in any of the rooms. The head CSI, a woman he vaguely recognised, directed him to the kitchen window, where, presumably their killer had got in. ‘Any forensics – prints, anything?’
‘Not a bloody sausage. This guy’s a ghost. He got in here – you can see where he made marks on the latch to open it – we’ll see if we can get some indication of the tool from that … Come on. I’ll take you to see the body. It’s still in situ, but they’re about to move her to the mortuary.’
Walking
