Wells gave a silent groan. The Chief Constable was playing Denton off against neighbouring Shelwood, knowing both Divisional Commanders were at daggers drawn in rivalry, each striving to be next in line for promotion.
Mullett swarmed on. ‘Yes, sir, this epidemic has hit us pretty badly too, but thanks to…’ and he gave a modest cough, ‘good leadership, marvellous team work and…’ He raised his voice and shot a significant glance across to Sergeant Wells. ‘… uncomplaining co-operation from the full team, we’re coping extremely well.’ He swivelled his chair around and lowered his voice. ‘Sorry if I sound a mite ragged, sir, but I’ve been up half the night. You’ve heard we’ve found Paula Bartlett’s body?’
‘Stinking to high heaven and raped.’
Mullett cringed. He hadn’t heard Frost come in. He spun his chair round and signalled frantically to the inspector to be silent. ‘Apparently the poor child was sexually assaulted, sir, although I don’t have the details at the moment.’ He glared to let Frost know whose fault this was. ‘However, we do have a suspect…’
‘No, we don’t,’ called Frost. ‘I’ve let him go.’ Mullett clamped his hand over the mouthpiece and his eyes spat fire. ‘Keep quiet,’ he hissed. Back to the phone. ‘Events seem to be moving faster than I thought, sir. I’ll come back to you.’ He smiled sycophantically until the receiver was safely back on its rest, then the smile snapped off. ‘You will not make comments when I am on the phone,’ he snarled at Frost.
‘Sorry, Super. I didn’t want you to make a prat of yourself with the Chief Constable.’
The inspector didn’t sound sorry and Mullett was irked to note the lighted cigarette wiggling in the man’s mouth. He expected people to ask permission before smoking in his office. In Frost’s case that permission would have been refused, but that wasn’t the point. However, he would see what Wells wanted first.
‘Sergeant Johnson is still away. I’m doing double shifts and I’m on again tonight, sir. It’s getting a bit much.’
Mullett tried to look sympathetic. ‘Don’t talk to me about double shifts, Sergeant. It goes without saying that no-one works harder than I do…’ He paused. He thought he heard a snort of derision from Frost. But the innocent look on the man’s face suggested he was wrong. ‘If Shelwood Division can cope without extra help, then so can we.’ He raised a hand to silence the sergeant’s protest. ‘A little extra uncomplaining effort and we’ll come out with flying colours. If you’ve got any problems, any worries, come straight to me. My door is always open.’ He beamed at the sergeant. ‘Perhaps you’d close it as you leave.’
Wells opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and accepted his dismissal. He resisted the temptation to slam the door behind him.
Without waiting to be asked, Frost slid into the vacated chair and yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth. What a pig the man is, thought Mullett. ‘How are you coping?’ he asked.
‘We’re not coping,’ said Frost. ‘We’re struggling and sinking bloody fast.’
‘Shelwood…‘ began Mullett.
‘Sod Shelwood Division,’ chopped in Frost. ‘Shelwood haven’t got three major murder enquiries on the go.’
Mullett breathed on the lenses of his glasses and polished them carefully. With his glasses off, the blurred image of Frost didn’t look quite so scruffy. But when he replaced them, there was the man, creased, crumpled and slovenly in sharp focus. ‘The reason we are not coping, Inspector, is because of sloppiness and inefficiency.’
‘You’re doing your best, sir,’ said Frost generously.
Mullett glared. ‘No-one can accuse me of inefficiency, Frost. I prepare the rotas, but no-one sticks to them. I never know who is on duty and who isn’t. We’ve got to organize ourselves… allocate the tasks, use our resources to the best advantage. I’ve prepared new duty rosters.’ He pushed a neatly typed list across the desk. ‘And they will be strictly adhered to. I will not tolerate any deviation… any excuses.’
Frost picked up the roster and studied it. Like most of Mullett’s edicts, it was beautifully laid out, but would be impossible to adhere to.
‘We’ll all have to work that little bit harder,’ cajoled the superintendent, ‘but it won’t be for long. Mr Allen will be off the sick list next week and you’ll hand the Paula Bartlett case back to him. Other men are coming off the sick list all the time.’ He flashed his ‘be reasonable’ smile. ‘It will only be for a few days.’
Right, you sod, thought Frost. We’ll play it your way. He yawned and heaved himself up. ‘I see from the roster I’m off duty, so I’ll slope off home and get some kip.’
‘Wait!’ Mullett waved him back to his chair. ‘I need an update on the cases you are working on.’ He listened distastefully as Frost spared him none of the gory details of the stabbing and the post-mortem. ‘One victim’s still alive — so it’s only two murders.’
‘She’s eighty-one,’ said Frost, ‘and her skull’s fractured. The hospital don’t reckon she’ll pull through. I’m anticipating on this one.’
Mullett clenched his fist angrily. ‘Catching this swine must be our number one priority, even to the exclusion of other cases.’ He pulled his notepad towards him. ‘I’m holding a press conference at two on the Paula Bartlett case. No joy with your plumber?’
‘Not unless we can pick holes in his story, and I don’t think we will.’
‘A pity,’ said Mullett pointedly, as if it was Frost’s fault. ‘Have you told the parents yet that she was raped? I don’t want them to find out from the media.’
Damn! thought Frost. He’d completely forgotten this aspect. ‘No, sir. I don’t want to sod up your nice new roster, so as I’m off duty I’ll leave that for you.’
The Parker pen doodled in the air and dotted an imaginary ‘i’. ‘I’d do it willingly, Inspector. But you’ve got their confidence. They don’t want a stranger breaking such bad news. I’ll leave that in your capable hands.’
Frost smiled his ‘you bastard!’ smile. ‘Of course, sir.’
Mullett studied his list. ‘Only one case demands urgent attention. This maniac with the knife. He’s got to be caught before he kills again. That’s the case we deploy our manpower on. The rest can go on the back burner until we’re back to full strength.’
‘But what about Paula Bartlett?’ protested Frost. ‘She’s been murdered and raped — do we stick her on the back burner?’
Mullett nodded emphatically. ‘She’s been dead for over two months. The trail’s gone cold. Waiting a week until Mr Allen returns is sensible and won’t make the slightest bit of difference.’ At Frost’s continued hesitation, he added, ‘It’s a question of priorities, Inspector. Face facts! We haven’t the manpower to handle more than one major investigation. By concentrating our resources, I’m looking forward to an early arrest.’
Frost pulled a cigarette stub from behind his ear and poked it in his mouth. ‘I’ll give it a whirl,’ he muttered doubtfully. He wasn’t happy at back-pedalling on the school kid. His every instinct screamed for him to go all out to find the bastard responsible. But Hornrim Harry was right for once. They didn’t have the resources for more than one big case and they weren’t going to get any help from County.
‘Good man!’ Mullett smoothed his moustache with his two forefingers. ‘But we must keep a high profile with the public. We mustn’t let them know we are marking time on the Bartlett case.’ His eyes gleamed and he snapped his fingers triumphantly. ‘I’ve got it! There’s a video somewhere that Mr Allen had made when the girl first went missing. I’m sure we could get the TV companies to run it again.’ The video showed a Paula Bartlett look-alike, wearing similar clothes and riding the identical bike along the route of Paula’s newspaper round. It was hoped it would jog someone’s memory, but it hadn’t been successful. As Paula did her round every day, same route, same time, there was much confusion in the minds of people who had come forward as to the actual day they had seen her. The usual reports of strange men in slow-moving dark cars, but none of the leads had led anywhere.