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Authors: Michael Fowler
Tags: Crime Fiction
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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
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
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