Read Online Irrefutable Evidence: A Crime Thriller by David George Clarke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David George Clarke
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many, no,” said Sheryl, shaking her head.
She pointed around the lobby. “There’s that one looking at the door, there’s one up there, above us, looking at where we are, and there’s one in the bar, but that’s aimed at the till.”
“Aren’t there others?” prompted Jennifer. “There must be one in the lift, surely.”
“Yeah, and outside the lift on each floor, except here in the lobby. There’s one in the car park too.”
Jennifer looked up at Derek. She could see he was thinking the same thing that she was. If there was footage of Henry leaving the car park late on Friday evening and then coming back in the early hours of Saturday morning, that would more or less clinch the case.
She turned her attention back to the receptionist.
“Right, Sheryl, we’re going to need to look at the recordings from each of the cameras starting from the middle of last week until Saturday afternoon.”
Sheryl shook her head. “I can’t give you those, they’re nothing to do with me. You’ll have to talk to the manager. Hey, what’s this all about? Is Mr Silk in some sort of trouble?”
Jennifer ignored the question.
“Where’s the manager’s office?” she said.
“I’ll call him for you,” said Sheryl as she pressed a button on the phone in front of her and lifted the receiver.
“Hi, Mr Jackson, it’s Sheryl on reception. There’s a couple of police officers here who want to talk to you. Shall I send them through? Oh, OK.”
She put the receiver back on the cradle. “He says — Oh, here he is now.”
Jennifer turned and saw the concerned-looking manager as he hurried from his office. She walked towards him, wanting to avoid Sheryl’s interruptions and get the CCTV recordings as soon as possible. She looked back and was pleased to see that Derek had got the message and was distracting Sheryl by asking her more questions.
The manager blanched when Jennifer mentioned a murder inquiry and, concerned for the reputation of his hotel, he willingly handed over the discs once he realised that stalling for a warrant would gain him no favours.
Fifteen minutes later, Jennifer and Derek were hurrying out of the hotel with the discs and signed paperwork releasing them into their custody.
Jennifer tossed Derek her keys. “You drive, I’ve got to make a couple of calls and I don’t want to waste time.”
Back in the SCF, they headed for Mike Hurst’s office where they found the DCI talking to Rob McPherson.
Hurst held up a hand as Jennifer was about to launch forth with what they’d discovered.
“From the look on your face Cotton, I’d say you’ve made some progress. Am I right?”
“Yes, boss, I—”
“Well, to save time, let’s get Bottomley in here too.”
He shifted his eyes to Derek. “Thyme.”
Derek scuttled out of the office and was back within thirty seconds followed by the detective sergeant.
Hurst sat back in his chair. “Right, Cotton, let’s hear it.”
“Well, boss, from what the receptionist at the Old Nottingham has told us, it would appear that Henry Silk could be very involved.”
She went through everything from the hotel, holding up the bag of CCTV discs as she explained the manager’s cooperation.
“You’ve got them all signed for I hope, Cotton. We don’t want to bugger up the chain of evidence.”
“All sorted, boss. Boss, on the way back, I called Luton airport security and they confirmed that the TV company that makes Runway Two-Seven is filming outside shots there for the next three days. In fact they’re already there; something to do with the light. Apparently they have a spot on the airport perimeter they use that gives them background of planes taking off and landing during whatever action is being filmed. That ties in with what Silk told the hotel receptionist, but just to be sure, I asked the security guy to quietly check if Silk’s car is there, and it is.”
“Good work, Cotton. Both of you, in fact,” said Hurst.
He turned to
She pointed around the lobby. “There’s that one looking at the door, there’s one up there, above us, looking at where we are, and there’s one in the bar, but that’s aimed at the till.”
“Aren’t there others?” prompted Jennifer. “There must be one in the lift, surely.”
“Yeah, and outside the lift on each floor, except here in the lobby. There’s one in the car park too.”
Jennifer looked up at Derek. She could see he was thinking the same thing that she was. If there was footage of Henry leaving the car park late on Friday evening and then coming back in the early hours of Saturday morning, that would more or less clinch the case.
She turned her attention back to the receptionist.
“Right, Sheryl, we’re going to need to look at the recordings from each of the cameras starting from the middle of last week until Saturday afternoon.”
Sheryl shook her head. “I can’t give you those, they’re nothing to do with me. You’ll have to talk to the manager. Hey, what’s this all about? Is Mr Silk in some sort of trouble?”
Jennifer ignored the question.
“Where’s the manager’s office?” she said.
“I’ll call him for you,” said Sheryl as she pressed a button on the phone in front of her and lifted the receiver.
“Hi, Mr Jackson, it’s Sheryl on reception. There’s a couple of police officers here who want to talk to you. Shall I send them through? Oh, OK.”
She put the receiver back on the cradle. “He says — Oh, here he is now.”
Jennifer turned and saw the concerned-looking manager as he hurried from his office. She walked towards him, wanting to avoid Sheryl’s interruptions and get the CCTV recordings as soon as possible. She looked back and was pleased to see that Derek had got the message and was distracting Sheryl by asking her more questions.
The manager blanched when Jennifer mentioned a murder inquiry and, concerned for the reputation of his hotel, he willingly handed over the discs once he realised that stalling for a warrant would gain him no favours.
Fifteen minutes later, Jennifer and Derek were hurrying out of the hotel with the discs and signed paperwork releasing them into their custody.
Jennifer tossed Derek her keys. “You drive, I’ve got to make a couple of calls and I don’t want to waste time.”
Back in the SCF, they headed for Mike Hurst’s office where they found the DCI talking to Rob McPherson.
Hurst held up a hand as Jennifer was about to launch forth with what they’d discovered.
“From the look on your face Cotton, I’d say you’ve made some progress. Am I right?”
“Yes, boss, I—”
“Well, to save time, let’s get Bottomley in here too.”
He shifted his eyes to Derek. “Thyme.”
Derek scuttled out of the office and was back within thirty seconds followed by the detective sergeant.
Hurst sat back in his chair. “Right, Cotton, let’s hear it.”
“Well, boss, from what the receptionist at the Old Nottingham has told us, it would appear that Henry Silk could be very involved.”
She went through everything from the hotel, holding up the bag of CCTV discs as she explained the manager’s cooperation.
“You’ve got them all signed for I hope, Cotton. We don’t want to bugger up the chain of evidence.”
“All sorted, boss. Boss, on the way back, I called Luton airport security and they confirmed that the TV company that makes Runway Two-Seven is filming outside shots there for the next three days. In fact they’re already there; something to do with the light. Apparently they have a spot on the airport perimeter they use that gives them background of planes taking off and landing during whatever action is being filmed. That ties in with what Silk told the hotel receptionist, but just to be sure, I asked the security guy to quietly check if Silk’s car is there, and it is.”
“Good work, Cotton. Both of you, in fact,” said Hurst.
He turned to
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