Mark Sennen - Touch

She did and she knew the reason for the anger too. A couple of the Sunday papers had sent reporters down from London looking for titbits and they had been trawling round the city. They had even contacted one of the victims. If any of the papers went front-page with the murders and rapes on Sunday, the Monday morning briefing would be hell. Might be better to call in sick.

Hardin’s rant continued but he began to veer into a more general moan about budget cuts and pressure from above to deliver, and Savage put her mouth on a ‘yes, sir, no, sir,’ autopilot setting, kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the desk. When Hardin went off on one of his political diatribes the one-sided conversation could continue for a good half an hour.

The return of Riley and Enders to the Major Crimes suite interrupted the rhetoric and Savage cut Hardin short, mentioning a possible new piece of evidence coming to light. Riley stuck his thumbs up and Enders nodded, a big smile painted across his face. Hardin told her to get back in touch. Soonest. Savage hung up and asked Riley what was up.

‘Mr Everett Mitchell is up,’ Riley said.

‘Aye,’ Enders said, ‘and from what we have just seen “up” is how he likes it. Priapic. A permanent condition.’

‘There’s the wife as well. She is, ah, well you might say she is not shy about coming forward.’

‘Darius is right, ma’am. Mrs Mitchell is a bit of a stunner. No. I meant to say she is quite a lady. Well, maybe lady isn’t the right-’

‘I don’t do cryptic, Sergeant Riley and Constable Enders,’ Savage said. ‘Could you please tell me in plain English what the hell you two are talking about?’

Riley explained about what happened with the camera and Mitchell’s refusal to allow them upstairs.

‘Well, I don’t think I would want a couple of strange men snooping around my house if Samantha was tucked up in bed. Maybe his daughter really is ill.’

‘I somehow doubt it, ma’am.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I did some checking and Mr and Mrs Mitchell don’t have any children.’

‘Well, well, looks like Mr Mitchell just perjured himself. The only thing worrying me is his eagerness to show you those pictures.’

‘I can tell you, ma’am, it worried me too!’

‘No. What I mean is you said the room in the pictures did not match the room in Forester’s videos.’

‘Those houses are four beds, ma’am.’ Enders this time. ‘They might have a special room for that kind of stuff. Lots of couples do.’

‘Do they?’

‘Well, no, I mean not me and the wife. We haven’t got the space, not with-’

Savage waved at Enders to stop and reached for the phone and called Hardin. He sounded sceptical but agreed that as a line of enquiry anything was worth a punt. If even one of the girls had been in the house then there would be some trace of them, and the video option and connection with Forester and Zebo would be a bonus.

‘So we need a warrant, and urgently, I’ll bet?’

‘Please, sir.’

‘OK, but Garrett and Davies will be doing the knocking. This sounds like it has more to do with operation Leash.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And Charlotte, you had better be right on this one. The spotlight is shining on us. Any cock-ups will be all too noticeable. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

As she hung up Savage couldn’t help thinking of Riley’s description of the pictures on Mitchell’s camera. Noticeable cock-ups seemed to be everywhere.

She was starting to explain to Riley that it was jobs-on-the-line time if his hunch didn’t pay off when the phone rang. Hardin again. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but Davies was already on his way to Moor Vale. Along with an Armed Response Vehicle.

*

Enders did the driving while Savage got Riley to get on the radio and find out the full story.

‘Triple nine, ma’am. From one of the neighbours. A man has driven into Mitchell’s front door ram-raid style. The neighbour saw the man get out and rush inside with some sort of weapon. Sounds as if someone has beaten us to it. But they can’t have known we were coming back, can they?’

‘No, but one good thing is this gets us in with no waiting around for the warrant.’

As they raced into the estate it was obvious which house had been targeted. A blue Ford Galaxy had smashed into the front colonnades of number seven and the porch had collapsed on top, smashing the windscreen. After mounting the three little steps the car had flattened the door and torn away the frame and a substantial section of the supporting wall. Enders brought them to a halt next to a patrol car and even from fifty metres Savage spotted the Plymouth Snappers sticker on the rear window of the Galaxy.

‘It’s Donal’s car.’

‘Kelly’s dad?’ Enders said.

‘Yes. How the hell he has connected Mitchell with Kelly I have no idea.’

Nearer the house another two patrol cars and an unmarked vehicle lay scattered across the road with several men crouching on the ground, keeping a good chunk of metal between themselves and the house. Standing behind one of the vehicles two armed officers covered the front door with their Heckler and Koch MP5s.

DI Davies sat up against the unmarked car and seemed to be in overall charge, barking out orders to everyone around him, a cigarette jammed in the corner of his mouth. He’ll be loving this, Savage thought, as she jumped out. She took a glance at the house, sprinted across to him and dived behind the car.

‘Inside with a crossbow. He appeared at the upstairs window a few minutes ago. Next time there’s a clear shot they’ll get him.’ Davies nodded at the armed officers.

‘No they won’t, I am going in.’

Savage stood up, catching the attention of the two men covering the door. Davies went apoplectic.

‘Get down you stupid bitch. I am in command here and I say the situation is too dangerous.’

‘Fuck off. I know the man. Donal has lost one child, I don’t want his other two to lose their dad.’

Savage moved out from behind the car and edged across to the driveway. The damage to the front of the house and the rubble lying on the ground made the place resemble a war zone and, like a derelict property, it appeared deserted. She held her arms out to the sides, palms forwards.

‘Mr Donal,’ she shouted. ‘This is DI Charlotte Savage. I am unarmed and I am coming in.’

Nothing. No sound, nobody moving.

She stepped onto the driveway, her feet crunching on the gravel.

Gravel?

Trent’s drive was brick; the Leash girls had talked of gravel. Riley and Enders hadn’t mentioned anything to her in their report, but this was not the time to ponder on the significance of the driveway and she continued walking toward the front door. She scrambled over the debris, squeezed past the car and then ducked down and crawled under part of the doorframe, all too aware of her vulnerable position.

Inside she stood up and surveyed the damage. The white carpet glistened with the remains of a chandelier, the little crystals scattered everywhere and reflecting the light like a dewy lawn on a spring morning. Bits of plaster and wood lay strewn around and a large RSJ had come out of the wall above the door and crushed a small table. She picked her way across the floor and stood in the centre of the hall. The light streamed in through the doorway and dust floated in the draught. To one side of the hall was the living room, to the other the diner and kitchen. Stairs swept upwards in a grand fashion to a landing above.

‘They are upstairs.’

Savage whirled round to see a woman standing in the kitchen doorway, a wine glass in one hand, the bubbles in the glass fizzing in the light. She was tall with a curvy figure and wore jeans and a fisherman’s smock, but still managed to appear glamorous, like a catwalk model. Savage noticed the other hand was holding a bottle of champagne.