Letting go of the incident board, he rubbed his hands together.
“Forensics are at a very early stage. They will be returning this morning to do a thorough examination of the house. House-to-house has only been done with immediate neighbours. Besides Mr. Farmer’s information, we have learned that Jeffery was a relatively quiet and private man who had very few visitors. So far, no one has seen anything out of the ordinary. We’re casting the net a little bit wider this morning. Task Force will be continuing with the door-knocking and will also be doing a finger-tip search of the garden. That will be extended. Beyond his garden fence there is a footpath leading into the woods.” The SIO paused. “Okay, actions.” He opened his hands and tapped his thumb. “First. We re-interview the daughter, get a thorough background everything she knows about her father. I also want to know what that key fits. See if the daughter knows. He swallowed it for a reason, and as I have already mentioned, my guess is that reason got him killed. But we don’t reveal to her or to anyone outside this room how we found it.” He tapped the palm of one hand with an index finger. “Second, he made great stay about the murder of Lucy Blake-Hall back in nineteen-eighty-three. Barry has already given an insight into that but I want a copy of that file and I want to know everything about that case. Contact the Cold Case Review team.” He progressed along his fingers. “Third, we trace Jeffery Howson’s colleagues. I know he’s been retired a good few years now, but a number of his ex-colleagues should be around. I want to know who he worked with at divisional CID who was his partner? I want to know everything about him. I want someone to speak with the Intelligence Unit. Has there been a spate of burglaries recently? Who is active in that area? And finally for today, we make a request for his telephone records. We know about his phone call to Barry, but I want to know if he made any other calls after that and anyone he spoke with in the week leading up to his murder. Given his state of health, the phone was his lifeline to the outside world and we need to know if the list throws up any suspects.”
Michael Robshaw tucked his hands into his trouser pockets.
“That’s it for now everyone. We meet back here at eight-pm for de-brief.” He took a deep breath and steadily scanned the room. “Team, it would be nice to put this one to bed quickly. I want the bastards who did this nailed and pronto.”
* * * * *
Hunter and Grace had only been waiting in the foyer of the newly built Maltby police station, which housed the Cold Case Review Team, for a little over five minutes before Detective Sergeant Jamie Parker, the officer in charge of the team, appeared through the door at the side of the glass fronted reception area. He greeted them, remaining in the doorway, propping it open with one foot; an invitation for them to enter.
The DS was tall and slim and smartly dressed in collar and tie. His short dark hair was giving way to grey and a neatly trimmed half-beard and moustache lined a cheery smile. He proffered his hand, announcing his name as they approached and shook Hunter’s first in a firm grip. Then he took Grace’s and eased open the side door a little further to allow them to slide past.
They found themselves in a carpeted, brightly lit corridor lined with numerous doors. Many were open and it was apparent from the noises within that there was lots of activity going on either side.
“We’ve got a murder running — just started this morning,” Parker said, almost as if he had read Hunter’s thoughts.
“They’ve drafted in detectives from other stations. It’s a bit manic this morning.”
“Always is at the start of a job,” added Hunter thinking about his own team’s new case.
Jamie nodded. “We’re up on the first floor,” he said, pointing them along the corridor to a set of double doors.
A metal stairwell took them up to the next floor. The Cold Case Review Team was housed in the first office along the corridor. It was a long oblong room, made cramped by metal filing cabinets, filling almost the length of the back wall, and six desks, which took up most of the floor space. Three detectives were at their desks. They cast Hunter and Grace a quick glance before returning to their work.
Jamie Parker took up his own seat at his desk and offered up two empty seats either side of him. “It’s a good job the other two DCs are out on enquiries, otherwise it would have been standing room only,” he said, leaning forward and pushing back the desk jotter to make room to rest his arms. “We drew the short straw when we moved in here. We were the last team in. I think they gave us the janitor’s storeroom by mistake,” he said. “Can we get you a cuppa?”
“I’d love a tea.” Hunter said.
“Coffee, thanks,” added Grace.
One of the detectives stepped over to the filing cabinets, shuffled together a load of cups amassed on the top and left the room carrying a laden tea tray.
“How long have you been here?” asked Hunter.
“It’ll be two years in January. We were set up not long after the Major Investigation Units started.”
The DS’s comments jogged Hunter’s memory. His own unit had been one of many set up by the Force in 2006 to investigate major crimes as a result of a Government review. One of the remits had been to pick up old rape and murder cases which still lie undetected in station vaults and would benefit from modern policing and scientific techniques, particularly using the advancement of DNA. Originally his team had cherry-picked a few cold cases but then along had come current major crime and those investigations had taken a back seat. He guessed this was why the Cold Case Review Team had been formed. He recollected that several months ago, this team had earned a great deal of publicity from local TV and newspapers. A serial rapist who had kept trophies from his victims after carrying out a series of brutal attacks on lone females during the late 1970s and early 1980s was captured twenty years after his last reported rape because a family member had committed a drink-drive offence and had their DNA taken. It was the first familial DNA case in the country.
“How many cases are you working on at the moment?”
“We usually pick up two or three each at a time and juggle around with them. Some of them are really fascinating and it’s especially gratifying when we can go back to a complainant or a parent after all those years and tell them we have enough evidence to take their attacker to court.”
“How many cases are there still outstanding?”
“Too many to mention. This Force has records stretching back to nineteen-seventy-four when it was formed and there are also records from when it was the West Riding. The oldest file I have seen is an undetected murder from nineteen-sixty-two.”
Hunter pursed his lips in a silent whistle.
“The case you’re after is the murder of Lucy Blake-Hall from nineteen-eighty-three is that right?”
“Yeah. Well before my time. I didn’t join the job until nineteen-ninety-one.”
“Well it’s all there.” Jamie Parker pointed to an array of cardboard file boxes stacked next to a metal cabinet.
Hunter guessed there must be at least a dozen stacked boxes. He hadn’t expected that amount.
“You’re in luck. We’ve had a quick scan through and it looks as though everything is there.” Parker pushed himself up from his seat and moved to the pile. Giving a cursory glance at its label he prised open the lid of one box and lifted out a thick file with both hands. “This is the summary, main witnesses evidence, and suspect interview file which was presented at the trial. In the other boxes are the house to house forms, original witness statements, scene of crime photographs and the Home Office forensic forms for the science labs. Oh, and in your case quite a few of the boxes contain the original index cards for the job.”
“You got this quick. We only rang about this case a couple of hours ago.”