Taylor flinched when she looked at Killian. His head was bowed. He looked like a naughty schoolboy who had been caught bunking school.
“I do not doubt your abilities as police officers,” Lemon continued. “Every one of you is an asset to this team.”
“Here we go,” DS Duncan whispered, “we’re being substituted before half time.” Eric White sniggered.
“However,” Lemon paused for a second, “we need to get to the bottom of this and I believe what we need here in Trotterdown, right now, are a few tactical changes. We’re simply not equipped to deal with matters on this scale. People out there are already speculating about a serial killer. I’ve been instructed from high up to hand over the whole investigation to a team more experienced in matters like this.”
The whole room radiated anger.
“I’m sure you’re all aware,” Lemon carried on, unperturbed, “that we can’t hide away these days. We cannot afford to step out of line. The police force in general needs the support of the people we are sworn to protect.”
Taylor wondered if this guy actually believed the guff that was coming out of his mouth.
“I’ll hand you over to DCI Warren James from Exeter. DCI James will fill you in on the restructuring that is about to be put into place. Warren.”
“Thank you.” DCI James raised the microphone stand and flicked an imaginary fleck of dust from his suit. He looked too young to be a detective chief inspector but he sounded extremely confident.
“Before I begin,” he said, “I can see what this looks like to you and I expect you to be resentful about that. I would be, if the shoe were on the other foot.”
Nice opening, Taylor thought, you can’t argue with a statement like that.
“Nevertheless, we need to face the facts. Three dead bodies and not a single lead. Let’s put aside any thoughts of territorial pissing and try to work together.”
Superintendent Lemon’s eyed grew wide. He was obviously not pleased with James’ language. Despite herself, Taylor was impressed.
“I’m not here to kick you off your own turf,” James continued. “I’m here to offer you a new spin on things. New ideas and fresh minds. I won’t bore you with my own track record, but let’s just say, that’s why I’ve been called in. So this is how it’s going to work. A new team will be put together. The structuring will be based on how things have worked for us in the past. Most of the team will be brought in from Exeter for the duration, but we’ll also need everything you can offer us too. Everybody will report to me directly. As this is not up for debate, I won’t ask if there are any questions. I will be conducting the interviews for the team personally and you’ll all have a chance to impress. You will be talked to during the course of the day. Thank you.” DCI James turned the microphone off.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Taylor sat with Killian and DS Duncan in the canteen. Killian was halfway through his third cup of coffee in an hour. Everybody was on tenterhooks, awaiting their fate. PC Eric White had been called into Killian’s office fifteen minutes earlier.
“That bastard has even taken over your office, Jack,” Duncan said. “Who does he think he is?”
“He’s good,” Killian admitted. “Maybe he can bring some new ideas to the table.”
“You can’t just give up. This is our patch and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some Exeter arsehole tell me what to do.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it. Orders from high up.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to take this lying down. It’s not like you.”
“Sometimes we have to take a step back and figure out what’s important. And right now I need to be with my wife. Maybe it’s for the best for DCI James to step in.”
“Walk all over us, more like it. Well, I’m not going to give up without a fight,” Duncan said.
“How’s your wife doing?” Taylor asked Killian.
“As well as can be expected. At least her temperature’s normal again. She recognised me for a while yesterday. I’m going to visit her again this afternoon.”
PC Eric White announced his presence by kicking open the door to the canteen so hard it banged against the wall. He looked furious.
“That bloke is a total bastard,” he said. He sat down next to Taylor.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He’s only a couple of years older than me, for Pete’s sake. He reckons I have an attitude problem. There’s nothing wrong with my attitude. I have a great attitude.”
“I take it you didn’t get picked for the team, then?” she said.
“He told me I don’t have enough experience for something like this.” Eric shook his head. “Effing nonsense.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“You’re up next,” Eric said to Taylor. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”
Taylor knocked on the door to Killian’s office and waited.
“Come in,” DCI James shouted.
It was odd to see a stranger sitting behind Killian’s desk. DCI James sat with his hands clasped behind his head.
“Take a seat,” he said, “this won’t take long. I’m a great believer in first impressions.”
And in your own importance, Taylor silently replied. She was beginning to think her own first impression of the man had been wrong.
She sat opposite and waited for him to speak first. The DCI looked her up and down. His scrutiny made her uneasy.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I haven’t slept much since this all started.”
“And you’ll sleep even less if you’re selected to be a part of this team. Will that be a problem?”
“I want to find out what this is all about.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Good.” James opened up a file on the desk in front of him. “I see you’ve only been in this neck of the woods for a short time.”
“I came here in January.”
“From Edinburgh. How on earth did you end up in a Cornish police station?”
“I needed to get away from Edinburgh. My husband was killed in a car accident last year.”
“Right. And what makes you think you’ll be a fit for this team?”
Taylor still had no idea what to say. She was not even sure if she wanted to be part of a team full of strangers, let alone work for someone who could pass over her husband’s death with “right.”
“I want to get to the bottom of all of this,” she said at last. “Three elderly people have been killed in the space of a week. I’ve been here since the beginning, and I’ve been part of the enquiries so far. I know we haven’t found the answer yet, but I don’t think we can just discount all that work that’s already been done.”
James typed something on his tablet. “Do you have any theories?” He looked her in the eyes.
“One. It sounds a bit far-fetched but forty years ago, a wedding took place in Plymouth. Just four people were there, and three of them have died in the past week.”
“Go on.” James sounded interested. “Whose wedding? Who’s the survivor?”
“Alice Green. Both bride and survivor. She keeps bees in Polgarrow. It’s a small village to the south of here.”
“I’m aware of it.”
“The man found cut in half in the fishing net was Alice’s husband Stanley. Milly Lancaster was her maid of honour and Dennis Albarn was Stanley’s best man.”