Michael Fowler - Cold Death

Hunter followed Grace out into the custody suite corridor closing the interview room door behind him. He could hear Jilani Hassan’s cries of pain. He turned to meet Grace and with sparkling eyes gave her a ‘you did it’ look and then pulled her head forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You little beaut,” he said before strolling away back to the incident room.

Sheffield:

Hunter and Grace rode the clanking lift to the fifth floor; they were looking for flat 508.

An hour earlier they had returned to an empty incident room and learned from Isabel Stevens, the HOLMES supervisor that the whole team were over in Sheffield — the Arshad’s flat had been found and they were doing house-to-house enquiries. Upon hearing this they had immediately exchanged excited looks and decided they wanted to be in on the action.

Pervez and Mohammed could sweat in the cells a little bit longer, Hunter had determined as he scooped up a set of car keys.

They had lodged the statements made by Jilani Hassan with Isobel. Then with Hunter aggressively worming and forcing his way through heavy traffic, had quickly journeyed to the Parkhill Flats complex.

The instant the metal doors screeched open Hunter was greeted by a strong smell of pine disinfectant and he could hear lots of activity somewhere out along the corridor.

As he stepped out of the lift he immediately recognised the location from the CCTV footage he had seen earlier that morning. He glanced up at the ceiling at the small black domed fitment, which held the camera, and wondered how on earth the pair had been so stupid. He pointed it out to Grace and then made his way to number 508.

Blue and white police crime scene tape was draped across the dim corridor and a uniformed officer barred their way. Hunter ducked under the tape flashing his warrant card before slotting it into the top pocket of his jacket leaving the shiny silver and blue South Yorkshire Police crest showing.

The door to flat 508 was ajar and he rapped loudly on the boxwood panel and pushed it gently. It opened into a small shadowy corridor but a warm light coming from the partially open door at the other end greeted them. He and Grace stepped through and Hunter pushed open the second door, which from its furnishings Hunter clocked was the lounge. Duncan Wroe was the first person he spotted, crouching on his haunches carrying out a careful examination of the carpet. Two other protectively clothed females were in the room working on the spraying and swabbing of a wall opposite. A bare bulb in the centre of the ceiling gave off the only light. Heavy draped curtains covered one wall and were thick enough to keep out most of the daylight. They hadn’t been pulled back.

The room was sparsely furnished with a flimsy two-seater sofa and a single armchair of cheap quality and yet fastened at chest height on a wall above the fireplace was a huge plasma flat screen TV.

“They’ve obviously got their priorities right,” Hunter said wryly, glancing at Grace and pointing at the TV.

Duncan looked over his shoulder. “I wondered how long it would be before you two arrived,” he said and returned to his task.

“You know us, Duncan can’t keep our noses out,” Hunter quipped. “Anyway I thought you’d have finished with the scene by now. Are you holding out for overtime?”

“Very funny Hunter, very funny,” he riposted without turning around.

“Seriously Duncan, is this the place where Samia was killed?”

“Oh this is it all right.” Supporting his knees with his hands, he slowly eased himself up.

“I’m getting too old for this, roll on my pension.” He sauntered towards the far wall where the white suited women were working. “Attempts have been made to clean down the walls but we’re already picking up blood spatter patterns low down close to the skirting.”

“Blood spatter?”

“Yes a spouting or squirting effect when a blow has been delivered — but by the looks of this lot I would say this is from a cut — a slashing effect. Didn’t she have her throat cut if I remember rightly?”

Grace nodded.

“And there is also a pooling effect soaked into the carpet down to the floorboards.” He lifted an edge of cheap nylon carpet to reveal a dark stain ingrained in the lightwood flooring beneath. “She’d obviously lost a substantial amount of blood.”

He moved back into the centre of the room. “Finally I have this for you. Switch off the light behind you.”

Hunter reached behind him and pitched the room into semi darkness. Just a little daylight poked between the gaps in the heavy drapes.

“Remember when I showed you how fibres could be lit up by a light source when I examined the white Renault.”

Hunter and Grace nodded.

“As you know fragments of fibres are transferred when they come into contact with another surface and as I mentioned different fibres can give off different wavelengths which can be picked up by fluorescent lights. I already told you that we had the wavelengths of the fibres from the Asian rug because of its unique make-up.”

Hunter acknowledged again with a nod.

“Well this is what I’ve found.”

Duncan switched on a low voltage, hand-held fluorescent light and began scanning the carpet. As if by magic a line of bright blue fibres became distinguishable from the remainder of the room carpet. As he swept an area an oblong outline began to appear over the surface. “What would you say if I told you the perimeter of this is the exact same size as the rug Samia’s body was found in. In other words she was wrapped up in the rug, which once fitted in this exact spot.”

“You’re a genius Duncan.”

“Science actually Hunter but I will accept that accolade.” He turned off the lamp plunging them back into semi-darkness.

Hunter switched the room light back on.

“Another four or five hours and I’ll have this room telling me what exactly went on but at least for now I’ve given you something which will help hold them in custody.”

Hunter and Grace thanked him and made their way back to the car.

* * * * *

Barnwell:

It was just after four pm when they got back. Other members of MIT were still out on enquiries and Hunter had gathered from Isobel that she expected them all back within the hour. They had gathered enough statements and material evidence to place Ari and Pervez in flat 508.

Armed with this information Hunter and Grace made their way back to the custody suite to re-interview Pervez.

Pervez was already waiting in the sticky warm soundproof interview room with his solicitor. He didn’t have that air of cockiness like his brother yet nevertheless he fixed them with a penetrating glare.

As they sat down Pervez folded his arms in defensive posture and met them with a smug grin.

Hunter liked nothing more than a challenge.

Grace switched on the tape recording machine and turned around to switch on the TV/DVD player.

“Mr Arshad during your last interview you chose to make no comment throughout and as you know that is your prerogative. However it is only fair to tell you that since that last interview things have moved on considerably. We have interviewed your brother Ari and I have to tell you that he has implicated you in the abduction of Samia. We have a statement from a witness placing you at the scene where Samia’s body was dumped and I must also tell you that Jilani Hassan, Samia’s mother and your aunt has also made a statement implicating you and Ari.”

Suddenly his eyes were restless. He searched out his solicitor who had his head down making legal notes. He returned his gaze back across the table.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“Mr Arshad would I be telling you this in the presence of your solicitor and on tape if it wasn’t true?”