Read Online CXVI The Beginning of the End (Book 1): A Gripping Murder Mystery and Suspense Thriller (CXVI BOOK 1) by Angie Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Angie Smith
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dog walker strolling
across the bridge, but none of the man. I’d hoped there would be shots of him
measuring and photographing the half that’s in view, or at least walking over
it, but there’s nothing at all; he must have approached the bridge through the
fields on the other side.”
Woods was intrigued. “He obviously knows the
northbound half isn’t covered by the camera and he’s keeping clear of the other
half. It must be our man. If it was an innocent member of the public with an
interest in bridges, or a surveyor, they’d look at the whole structure.”
“I’ve asked Sharron West to go through the footage
of the bridge over the past couple of months and check everyone who’s gone
across it against our description. Meanwhile, as Maria is busy looking through
the motorway footage, I’m going to interview all the drivers who stopped at the
scene.”
“I’ve got to update Foster at ten,” Woods said. “Hopefully
I might have an interim report from the IT Team on John Wright and Dawn
Mateland’s phone and computer usage. From purely a motive point of view they’re
both suspects, but my instinct tells me they’re not involved.” Woods chewed his
bottom lip and thought for a moment. “Right… I’m going to find out everything I
can about CMXVI and what connection it has to Mateland.”
Woods came back from updating
Foster at 10.30 a.m.; he had been able to inform him that early investigations
into phone and computer usage of Wright and Dawn Mateland had not identified
any unusual behaviour, or anything that could be linked to the murder
investigation. Foster had reassured Woods he was pleased with progress, but
reminded him of the need for a speedy conclusion to the investigation.
As he walked through the Incident Room door Barnes
looked up and smiled. “Bingo!” she shouted.
He strode straight across and looked down at her
computer screen.
“See that metallic blue Peugeot 206? It’s been
filmed on five separate occasions, all at different times of the day,
travelling in close proximity to Mateland. And it’s also been recorded parked
outside the main entrance to the Traffic Unit. The registered keeper is Mr David
Brunt who lives in Ecclesall in Sheffield. Here’s his driving licence
photograph,” she clicked the mouse.
“Fair haired,” Woods observed. “Have we got a clear
shot of him driving the car?”
“Not really. I’ve tried enhancing various images,
but it appears he’s deliberately looking away from the cameras. See what I mean.
. .” she clicked the mouse again and an enlarged picture appeared.
“He knows where all the cameras are, if he’s that
careful, the car’s either stolen or a clone.”
“There’s no report of it being stolen,” Barnes
quickly replied, beavering away on her computer. “And according the ANPR it’s
been recorded travelling around Wakefield and Sheffield, but obviously not at
the same times, otherwise it would have been flagged up as a suspected cloned
vehicle.”
“I don’t believe this,” Woods said, shaking his head
and looking around the room. “Is McLean still out?”
“Yes.”
“Contact him and get him to interview Mr Brunt
pronto. I’ve a feeling he’ll be another innocent victim of cloning, and if he
is, ask McLean to find out his regular movements, particularly in relation to
his driving habits. In the meantime can you trace all the metallic blue Peugeot
206s that have been stolen in the last four weeks?”
As he was speaking Detective Inspector Chris Jacobs
came across and waited for him to finish. Jacobs was six years younger than
Woods and had worked with him in the Murder Investigation Team for over twenty
years. He had a pleasant, friendly personality and a caring nature, was five-feet-nine
inches tall, dark haired and of slender build.
“Hello Chris,” Woods said, noticing the detective
standing next to him. “Have you got the e-fit?”
“Yep,” replied Jacobs, handing the document
across the bridge, but none of the man. I’d hoped there would be shots of him
measuring and photographing the half that’s in view, or at least walking over
it, but there’s nothing at all; he must have approached the bridge through the
fields on the other side.”
Woods was intrigued. “He obviously knows the
northbound half isn’t covered by the camera and he’s keeping clear of the other
half. It must be our man. If it was an innocent member of the public with an
interest in bridges, or a surveyor, they’d look at the whole structure.”
“I’ve asked Sharron West to go through the footage
of the bridge over the past couple of months and check everyone who’s gone
across it against our description. Meanwhile, as Maria is busy looking through
the motorway footage, I’m going to interview all the drivers who stopped at the
scene.”
“I’ve got to update Foster at ten,” Woods said. “Hopefully
I might have an interim report from the IT Team on John Wright and Dawn
Mateland’s phone and computer usage. From purely a motive point of view they’re
both suspects, but my instinct tells me they’re not involved.” Woods chewed his
bottom lip and thought for a moment. “Right… I’m going to find out everything I
can about CMXVI and what connection it has to Mateland.”
Woods came back from updating
Foster at 10.30 a.m.; he had been able to inform him that early investigations
into phone and computer usage of Wright and Dawn Mateland had not identified
any unusual behaviour, or anything that could be linked to the murder
investigation. Foster had reassured Woods he was pleased with progress, but
reminded him of the need for a speedy conclusion to the investigation.
As he walked through the Incident Room door Barnes
looked up and smiled. “Bingo!” she shouted.
He strode straight across and looked down at her
computer screen.
“See that metallic blue Peugeot 206? It’s been
filmed on five separate occasions, all at different times of the day,
travelling in close proximity to Mateland. And it’s also been recorded parked
outside the main entrance to the Traffic Unit. The registered keeper is Mr David
Brunt who lives in Ecclesall in Sheffield. Here’s his driving licence
photograph,” she clicked the mouse.
“Fair haired,” Woods observed. “Have we got a clear
shot of him driving the car?”
“Not really. I’ve tried enhancing various images,
but it appears he’s deliberately looking away from the cameras. See what I mean.
. .” she clicked the mouse again and an enlarged picture appeared.
“He knows where all the cameras are, if he’s that
careful, the car’s either stolen or a clone.”
“There’s no report of it being stolen,” Barnes
quickly replied, beavering away on her computer. “And according the ANPR it’s
been recorded travelling around Wakefield and Sheffield, but obviously not at
the same times, otherwise it would have been flagged up as a suspected cloned
vehicle.”
“I don’t believe this,” Woods said, shaking his head
and looking around the room. “Is McLean still out?”
“Yes.”
“Contact him and get him to interview Mr Brunt
pronto. I’ve a feeling he’ll be another innocent victim of cloning, and if he
is, ask McLean to find out his regular movements, particularly in relation to
his driving habits. In the meantime can you trace all the metallic blue Peugeot
206s that have been stolen in the last four weeks?”
As he was speaking Detective Inspector Chris Jacobs
came across and waited for him to finish. Jacobs was six years younger than
Woods and had worked with him in the Murder Investigation Team for over twenty
years. He had a pleasant, friendly personality and a caring nature, was five-feet-nine
inches tall, dark haired and of slender build.
“Hello Chris,” Woods said, noticing the detective
standing next to him. “Have you got the e-fit?”
“Yep,” replied Jacobs, handing the document
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