‘That’s what I reckoned – so, it looks like someone gained his access code another way.’
‘Hacking the server?’ Gus wasn’t entirely sure what hacking the server would entail, but he was well used to the fact that Compo was more than equipped to tell him if this was the case.
‘Humph.’
Compo’s derisive snort, made Gus feel like he’d been relegated to the bottom of the class, but he waited, sure that Compo must have come up with another idea.
‘No chance, it’s a hack job. Even I couldn’t get that information – the security system is encrypted, and they’ve adopted a fire…’
‘Compo!’
The tone of Alice’s voice stopped Compo’s detailed description of the security system and focussed him on telling them what he’d found in layman’s terms. ‘No, I think the only way someone would know his code was if they were watching him type in his number and…’ He pressed a button, changing the image on the screen with a, ‘Ta da…’
The highlighted entry times list was replaced by an image of a man with a limp and curly grey straggly hair in a hi-vis jacket, hat pulled down over his forehead. He was recorded outside Hopkins’s flat two days previously at 17:35. They watched him exit the lift and walk directly to Hopkins’s door. Compo slowed the feed down. ‘Look. The bastard does something with his hand near Hopkins’s door pad … but we can’t see what, because his body obscures his actions. I reckon he placed a camera that could record the access code and send it to a secure server, because…’
Another image flashed on the whiteboard this time of the same man, but dated the following day at 14:25. ‘This time he entered Hopkins’s flat using an access code.’
‘That’s your man, I reckon.’ Compo’s face was flushed with the excitement of a possible breakthrough, but Alice wasn’t convinced. ‘But, if he was able to interfere with the CCTV, why not do it then, to cover his access to the flat yesterday and why would he access the flat the day before he killed Hopkins – it all seems a bit risky to me?’
‘I thought about that.’ Compo agreed. ‘But it occurred to me that it would have been noticed if there was interference during the day and probably would have resulted in a security re-jig – a request for residents to change passwords etc. So, I reckon he took the risk.’
Gus had listened carefully to Compo and studied the still of the man on the screen. ‘I think Compo’s right. But I don’t think our man has got a limp or grey straggly hair, more’s the pity.’
‘No. He’ll have disguised himself and, as it is, we don’t get a proper look at his face. However, when we catch him, some expert or other will be able to find common points from his posture that will match him.’
‘OK, if you’re right with all of this, Comps, what do you think he was doing in Hopkins’s flat?’
‘I think I can answer that.’ Gus’s mind went back to the soiled sock in Hopkins’s bedroom. ‘If our man’s so good with cameras maybe once he had the access code, he couldn’t resist placing a camera in Hopkins’s flat – maybe a few cameras, so he could see what his victim got up to.’
‘Plausible, definitely plausible.’ Compo clicked his fingers together gangsta style. ‘He’ll have removed them when he left, but we might still be able to find evidence that they were there in the first place. I’ll get on the phone to Sid and ask him to check it out.’
For the first time since he’d attended Miranda Brookes’ crime scene, Gus was convinced that things were coming together. He was sure they were on the right track, they just had to keep moving on with this. But seconds later his optimism was shattered.
The door clattered open and DCI Chalmers, dress floating around her, stepped into the incident room, her glare scorching each of the three occupants in turn. Sebastian Carlton trailed after her with a contrite expression on his flushed face and in an overly loud voice said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Shoot me now. I hadn’t realised that we were keeping DS Cooper’s relationship with the most recent murder victim a secret.’
Shit, crap, and fuck had all truly hit the fan. Gus gulped. Chalmers was a demon when crossed and, thanks to their resident imbecile, Carlton, she thought they’d deliberately kept her out of the picture. Compo, sensing the tornado that was about to sweep the room, took refuge behind his computer station, leaving Alice and Gus in the firing line. Gus stepped forward, hands out in what he thought would be a vain attempt to placate his boss. Sparing an angry glare for Carlton before he spoke, Gus moved closer. ‘Professor Carlton has it all wrong, Nancy. We’re not keeping secrets from you – we wouldn’t dare.’ Seeing her lips scrunch up in a ‘no, you bloody better not dare’ type of scowl, Gus took heart.
‘Alice, quite rightly, sent me over to the Hopkins’s crime scene. As you know, I’m already working the Erica Smedley case…’
‘Not very successfully, I might say…’
Gus inclined his head, acknowledging Nancy’s caustic response. ‘Well, that’s as may be, but we believe that the Hopkins and Smedley killings are the work of the same perpetrator and Alice has had nothing to do with the investigation so far. I’m SIO on it … and she alibies out for his murder time.’
‘Hmm, what is it with this damn team of yours, Gus? Always some sort of hassle or complication.’
Gus was pleased to note, that her face had returned to its normal colour and her heaving chest was less pronounced. But she wasn’t completely ready to let them off the hook yet. ‘Sebastian tells me there’s a chance the two investigations may be linked?’ She pierced Gus with her glare, daring him to lie to her, but Gus was no fool. ‘Well, yes, that’s a consideration.’
Taking
