DC Mike Malone appeared in the corridor and signalled to Maya. Late fifties, grey hair and with a stocky build, Malone had pretty much seen and done it all during his extensive career. Maya was quite glad it was him she was working with. If anyone had the skills to get Piotr Nowak to cooperate, it was Malone.
Clutching the strategy sheet and everything she needed, Maya and Malone headed companionably down to the custody suite. Maya had been before on several occasions, but never felt comfortable there. The airlock passageway between the main police corridor and custody always made her feel claustrophobic. One door had to be closed and locked before the other could be opened. That moment of being locked in limbo seemed to last longer every time she visited.
The suite was painted in the typical corporate blue of the rest of the police station. Opposite the holding cell stood a tall, horseshoe-shaped desk where the prisoners were processed. The custody officers perched on tall chairs as they tapped details into the computer screen, surrounded by posters explaining prisoners’ rights and advice for those with drug or alcohol addiction. Closest to the desk was a cell with floor-to-ceiling windows, where any vulnerable prisoners at risk of self-harm could be easily monitored.
Time always seemed to stand still in custody. No matter what mayhem was going on upstairs with requests for urgent forensic examinations and detective actions, the custody suite ticked along at its own steady pace, almost like an airport lounge. Things down here took as long as they took and there was no way of rushing it.
Malone headed behind the horseshoe counter to speak to one of the custody staff and obtain the keys for Nowak’s cell. While she waited, Maya watched as a tear-stained, scrawny-looking individual was processed for burglary. He was a pathetic sight, crying and begging to go home. He must have weighed no more than nine stone wet through. He was wheedling and pleading with the custody sergeant to let him phone his mum and girlfriend.
Maya wished that victims of burglary could witness this. She had seen so many people left devastated and terrified after a break-in. Some never got over the fear and violation. It caused them to become prisoners in their own home. Too scared to be there but terrified to leave in case they were broken into again. Most victims pictured a burly, aggressive offender with a sharp criminal mind. They were convinced the offenders had been stalking them and their property for weeks. The reality was this poor excuse for a human. He was either funding a drug habit or just after an easy way to pilfer money. Likely an opportunist who thought it was his God-given right to steal from hard-working, honest individuals. Too arrogant to care about the consequences his actions had on others.
Eventually, the burglar was led away to a cell by a dishevelled custody officer. Malone reappeared at the desk accompanied by a surly-looking man. He was tall with a large build and clearly liked throwing weights around. He was unshaven and his face was fixed in a hard, stony expression. Nowak radiated aggression and contempt. Not one to be easily intimidated, Maya was unnerved by the sight and sheer size of him.
Malone gestured to one of the benches that lined the wall of the custody suite, but Nowak refused to sit, choosing to pace like an angry lion. They waited for the custody sergeant to process another two prisoners painfully slowly before it was Nowak’s turn. Malone had attempted to interject and goad the sergeant into dealing with his prisoner first but had been left in no uncertain terms that the custody suite was his domain and there would be no queue-jumping.
When he was eventually summoned forward with a regal wave of the hand, Malone stepped up to the custody desk and explained that Nowak was to be subject to a forensic examination, which would include photographs. He would also have to surrender his clothing and footwear. Nowak was told that he could refuse to consent to be examined, but this decision would be overridden, and the samples needed could be taken by force if necessary. By the time the custody sergeant had finished explaining everything to Nowak, he was visibly seething and posturing in front of the sergeant’s desk.
‘I know it’s a pain in the arse, Piotr, but you’ve been here before and you know the drill. The sooner we get this bit over with I can sort you out with something to eat and drink and arrange for you to meet with your brief.’ Malone talked as if he was coaxing a toddler into doing something he didn’t want to do. ‘You know me well enough by now. I’ve always been all right with you, haven’t I?’ Malone continued.
Nowak responded with a grunt and dropped his shoulders somewhat, giving the appearance of a shrugging silverback gorilla. ‘Right, get on with it, but I want a phone call too. I want to check Markita is all right. You’ve not arrested her, have you?’
‘No. She’s gone to stay with her sister while we have a quick search of her place. You know it’s just procedure, don’t you?’ Malone sounded apologetic. ‘Once this examination is done, I’ll arrange for the sergeant to let you ring her before you go back to your cell.’
Malone directed him towards the medical room in an avuncular manner; Maya trailed behind. They stayed outside the room briefly while the Medacs nurse had a quick word with Nowak to establish if he had any injuries or illnesses that she needed to be aware of. The nurse would be present throughout the examination so she could assist with the body mapping
