Read Online Director's Cut by I. K. Watson - Free Book Online Page B

and plain clothes didn't mix.
Usually it was no more than healthy competition but the excommissioner's policies
had fuelled the friction and blown it out of proportion. CID, particularly in
the MET, was fighting for survival.
    Baxter answered, “She's at the hospital. She's been there most of the night
while you lot were getting your beauty sleep. Now, you've all heard what happened
to the latest. Elizabeth Rayner, twenty-eight, single, by all accounts a nice
professional woman, on her way home from her health club… DI Cole will brief
you. I want progress reports every day at nine and six. And I mean progress.”
He turned to Cole.
    “I'll leave it to you.”
    The others recognized an intimacy between them, something more than the job.
    Once the door had shut Cole said, “Right, let's get on with it. Chas has got
his work cut out. Peter you look after the indexes. David, take care of the
usual faces and the door-to-door. I want to know about Elizabeth Rayner and
the first victim, Carol Sapolsky. I want some common ground. So, boyfriends,
ex-boyfriends, workmates, clubs, the business. The uniforms have made a start
but now we want it done properly. So far fingertips have produced zilch but
they’re still looking at the drains and bins. Priorities? CCTV footage from
the streets, boozers, shops and garages. And let’s have a go at the KCs. They’re
not going to come forward without a nudge but if we can find them then they
will be very helpful. For those of you who don’t know the Square is our local
area of disrepute and it goes without saying that the girls are going to be
really pissed off seeing us, the KCs even more,
    and that will work in our favour. They’ll want to help in order to get rid of
us. Concentrate on the local hit list. I want every one of them TIED without
exception.”
    TIED is traced, interviewed and eliminated. KCs are kerb-crawlers.
“We’ve already taken seventy calls regarding Miss Sapolsky and
these have produced a dozen possibilities. Let’s have every one of
them followed up today. Check with Catchem and Guys, see if anyone
has a predilection for Stanley knives and women's breasts. Chas, sort
out a desk for Donna. All of you please note that she is part of this
team for the duration. I don’t want to hear any plod jokes. Questions?”
“What about sexist jokes, Guv?” Chas Walker asked and the
secondments shared an anxious moment.
    “Sexist jokes I can live with,” Cole said and heard a collective sigh
of relief.
    Cole found Detective Superintendent Baxter in his office, coffee in
hand, open BacoFoil on his desk revealing what was left of six rounds
of ham and tomato sandwiches. A knife had left a lane of English
mustard across one half of the rounds. The other half was only one step
deep. Baxter brushed a crumb from his lips, almost embarrassed, and
made a half-hearted attempt to wrap the sandwiches. After a moment
he pushed them aside, placed his coffee carefully on the desk and said,
“Sod it, Rick. Early lunch.”
    Cole glanced at his watch. It wasn't yet ten.
    Baxter adjusted his spectacles and frowned. “I'm not happy with
this. A serial slasher?”
    “We’re still one light for a serial and the MO might throw
something up. They could be unrelated.”
    Baxter made a dismissive noise. “Not much chance of that.”
“I know it's early days but I was thinking about a profile.”
“A bottle-fed psycho. What else do you want to know? What else
will we learn? A history of violence, a strong connection with the area,
a loner who finds relationships difficult?” Baxter touched the glass of
his spectacles then took them off and began to polish. Without them
he looked hollow-eyed and older.
    “I was thinking of Geoff Maynard.”
    “No,” Baxter said too quickly. He replaced his spectacles. “Not
yet. The last thing I want is a psychologist muddying the water. We've
got rid of one or, at least, nausea gravidarum has. We don't