‘Very well.’ DSI Fletcher pushed back in her chair, signifying an end to the meeting. ‘Identifying when her phone stopped pinging masts will give us a better idea of when she was most likely taken, and that will help us narrow down the CCTV reviews. But that’s for next week. We have the weekend upon us. Usually I’d have no issue allowing for overtime in a case like this. My reluctance to do so here should be obvious. My question being, Bish: what is even a full team likely to achieve over the weekend that we haven’t so far and the Met were unable to do in the time they had?’
‘There are no obvious potential opportunities for a breakthrough, ma’am. None that I’m seeing, at least.’ He turned to Bliss. ‘Jimmy?’
‘If you’re going to push me for an answer, I’d have to agree,’ he said. ‘But with great reluctance. My intention is to find out who gave up my business card, and why. Perhaps they saw or heard something; maybe our victim even told them about somebody she feared. We can’t know until we’ve spoken to them, so that’s a prime action as far as I’m concerned. Then there’s the second business card. Whatever this Dark Desires is, the card mattered enough to Majidah Rassooli to keep it tucked away alongside mine. That tells me it’s significant, probably connected, and therefore of equal interest to me. I also want to rule Lewis Drake and his cronies in or out. Those are all definite avenues to follow, and heavy on physical resources. I’m not due in on Sunday, but I’ll be working whether or not there’s overtime on offer. If this were my case, I’d be offering overtime, but only to those who want to work their time off – that is, you don’t make it compulsory.’
Bishop nodded and glanced back at their superintendent. ‘I’m on duty both days, ma’am, so it’s easy for me to go along with that. Your call as always, but I think Jimmy has a point.’
Without further pause, Fletcher got to her feet and snatched up her binder. ‘That’s how we’ll play it. I will attend Monday morning’s briefing. I’m not on duty over the weekend, but I am available should you need to contact me. Let’s hope it’s a productive couple of days.’
As the door swung closed behind the DSI, Warburton also stood. ‘Let’s see if we can make the rest of today count before we call it quits.’
Ashton rubbed his hands together. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, beaming. ‘A juicy serial to get stuck into. That’ll be good for the old CV.’
Bliss regarded him with narrowed eyes. ‘I just this second realised I owe you an apology, Glen,’ he said.
‘You do? Why’s that?’
‘Because prior to your last remark, I thought you were only acting like a prick. Now I see you actually are one.’
The big man lost the wide grin. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve never worked a serial before, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, well, take it from me, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be. There’s no fucking glamour, if that’s what you think. At the end of the day some poor sods still lose their lives.’
‘Forget it, Jimmy,’ Warburton told him. ‘I’m sure Glen didn’t intend to sound as crass and opportunistic as he did. Tell me, do we have anything new to work with?’
Chandler nodded. ‘Jimmy asked for info on Nicola Parkinson’s daughter. John Hunt messaged me to confirm that we have added her mobile and her brother’s to our data request. He’s also carried out a full PNC check, but there are no outstanding warrants on either of them.’
‘And what’s the daughter’s involvement?’ This time Warburton looked directly at Bliss.
He explained about her being a possible match for the woman seen at the flat by their victim’s landlord. ‘Which reminds me. The landlord, Beaumont, was supposed to have come in today. Any news on that?’
‘Phil Gratton also messaged me,’ Chandler confirmed. ‘Beaumont’s statement is in the case file.’
Bliss nodded. ‘Good. It might be worth finding a photo of the daughter and showing it to him. He claims to have spoken to a young blonde; there’s a chance it’s her.’
‘You think we’ll get that lucky?’ Warburton asked.
‘It’s a long shot…’ he admitted. ‘But maybe not. If Drake’s organisation is connected, or perhaps someone in his organisation is, then why not Parkinson? And if she has something to do with it, why not her kids?’ Bliss dipped his head in Chandler’s direction. ‘Is the daughter known to us, Pen?’
Nodding, Chandler said, ‘Like mother, like daughter. Not for tomming or running a knocking shop, I hasten to add – but she did get a pull for carrying a blade, and she also glassed a girl in a nightclub. She’s on a suspended.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Wilma.’
Bliss chuckled. ‘Really? I was always more of a Betty man myself.’
‘Me too,’ Bishop interjected. ‘Always had the impression she was far too much woman for Barney to handle.’
Warburton put back her head and groaned. ‘Ugh, men. Debating the qualities of cartoon characters? Really?’
Bliss feigned outrage. ‘Betty was hot! For a Stone Age woman, that is. Wilma was more like… well, Penny.’
‘Oi!’ Chandler’s hand flicked out to slap him, but he jerked away in time.
‘Let’s hope we can progress further than the bloody Flintstones,’ Warburton said as she headed for the exit. ‘Otherwise, I’ll see some or all of you here tomorrow at some point, I’m sure. Let’s aim for a nine o’clock start, shall we?’
The others responded as one. Bliss found Bishop looking at him, brow creased. ‘Neither
