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These were the questions that had prevented me getting anywhere near the seven hours' slumber I need to function at what passes for optimum efficiency. I'd even managed to incorporate Carla Graham into the various theories and trains of thought I'd tossed about my brain. In the better ones, I'd solve the case, find the killer (even going so far as catching him as he prepared to despatch his latest victim), get a promotion, and end up fucking Carla's brains out.
Fat chance. But at least a man can dream.
The bacon sandwich tasted good anyway, and I was so hungry I even ate the apple down to the core.
At 9.15, Knox came into the incident room with a very tired-looking Welland. Welland sat down immediately and it looked like he needed to. Knox, meanwhile, addressed the rest of us. 'We've just told Mark Wells about the latest developments and once again he categorically denies any involvement, but, to use the old phrase, he would say that, wouldn't he? He certainly looks far more worried than he has been. As we all know, he's a cocky bastard, and he's lost a lot of that now. We should get the rest of the results on the shirt later this morning and they'll tell us whether it belongs to Wells or not, although from the way he's behaving, I feel fairly certain it's his.'
'So we're going to be knocking out the champers later, then?' This was Capper.
Knox smiled. 'It's far too early even to think about a celebration drink yet. We've done well, very well, and it's been a team effort, but until you hear otherwise, it's still business as usual.'
He strode into his office, leaving Welland where he'd sat down. One of the women DCs asked Welland if he was all right. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,' he replied. 'Just a bit under the weather.' Someone suggested that he go home for the day, but he said he'd stick around and wait for Wells to be charged. 'I want to see that bastard squirm,' he said, with more vigour than I'd have thought his body would allow.
'He looks terrible,' said Malik quietly, turning to me.
'Yeah, I know. He should take a few days off. He needs it. And the taxpayer owes him a break. He's done a good job on behalf of society.'
Not that anyone had ever thanked him for it; or any of us, for that matter. It may be that it's not accurate to describe all coppers as unsung heroes, but neither is it fair to view them as the constant villains of the piece, which is usually the way we're portrayed whenever we get a mention on the box. And Welland, more than most, was one of the good guys. He'd put his all into policework, so now he might as well take something back.
'If I was him, I'd go for early retirement,' said Malik.
'If I was him, I'd have gone for it ten years ago.'
He gave me a disbelieving smile. 'No you wouldn't. You enjoy the whole thing too much.'
'Bullshit I do.'
My phone rang and I had a sudden rush of adrenalin, hoping it was Carla. But if she was the person I most wanted to speak to, then the person on the other end of the line had to be one of those whose voice I least wanted to hear.
'It's a Jean Ashcroft for you, Mr Milne,' said the civilian receptionist.
Christ, what the hell did she want? 'Thanks, can you put her through?' There was a pause as she came on the line. 'Hello, Jean. Long time no speak.'
'Hello, De
'It's no problem. No problem at all. What can I do?'
'It's Da
'What makes you say that?'
'Well, he phoned me last night and, you know, he never normally phones me, so I knew something wasn't right. He didn't sound himself, De
'Maybe he has.'
'He doesn't have a job, De
'Look, I understand you're worried about him. It's only natural. And I know he's had his brushes with the law, but he hasn't been in trouble for a long time now.' Malik was looking at me quizzically now, but I waved him away, intimating that it wasn't business. Not police business, anyway. He stood up and walked off. 'I don't think you should let one drunken phone call get you too concerned. Seriously, Jean.'
'You still see him sometimes, don't you?'
'Yeah, occasionally, but not as often as I'd like.'
'You know, whenever we speak, which I know isn't that often, but whenever we do, he always talks about you. I think he looks up to you. Would you do me a favour? Please. I understand what you're saying about not getting too worried, but would you go round and see him, just to check things out? See that he's OK.'
This was all I needed. 'I really think you're worrying unduly. Da
'Please, De
'OK, I'll see what I can do, but I'm sure it's nothing.'
'Thanks. I really appreciate it.' And it sounded like she did.
I took her number in Leeds and said I'd get back to her one way or another in the next few days. We talked for a few moments longer, but the conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. Far too much water had passed under the bridge, and I was happy to hang up. Jean Ashcroft had been a good-looking girl once upon a time, and good company too, but now she was nothing more than a half-forgotten part of my past. Da
What was it that American president once said? The only thing we have to fear is fear. Well, Da
14
At 11.55 that morning the results from the lab came back confirming that hair samples found on the shirt belonged to Mark Wells, and that it could safely be surmised that the shirt belonged to him.
At 12.10, the questioning of Mark Wells by DCI Knox and DI Welland recommenced. The suspect still denied any involvement in the crime and became hysterical when told of the new evidence against him, at one point attempting to assault both the officers present. He had to be physically restrained before questioning could continue. His solicitor then requested some time alone with his client to discuss these new developments, and this was granted.
At 12.35, the questioning once again resumed, Wells's solicitor sticking to the position that his client had had nothing to do with the murder of Miriam Fox. However, neither he nor Wells could offer any realistic explanation as to why the shirt had been found so close to the murder scene covered in the victim's blood. Wells suggested that it must have been stolen.
At 1.05, twenty-seven-year-old Mark Jason Wells was formally charged with the murder of eighteen-year-old Miriam A