“Certainly,” said Cragg, with a puzzled expression.
“I’d like to run the investigation from here. I’ve called in the HOLMES operators. We’ll need a room with sufficient trunking, and enough power sockets for all the internal computers. And a separate room for the investigation team, which we’ll also use for briefing and debriefing.”
As Cragg was about to leave, another officer appeared. Gardener hadn’t seen him earlier. He stood about six foot four, had a trim frame with short dark hair, blue eyes, wire-rimmed glasses, and a pencil-line moustache. He spoke with a Welsh accent.
“Sergeant Williams, sir. The daytime desk sergeant,” said Cragg.
Both men shook hands, and Williams said he would be happy to do anything he could to help.
Gardener turned to Cragg. “Maurice, are you okay to stay a while longer? I really would like to try and keep the original team together for as long as I can.”
“I told you before, sir, it’s not a problem. I don’t have to rush off.”
Cragg showed Gardener and Reilly a large conference room at the back of the building that could not be seen from the front. It was about twenty-foot square, with a linoleum floor, four desks, plenty of power outlets, and even a screen and projector. It was sufficient for what they needed. Reilly said he would stay there to greet the HOLMES team and start the proceedings.
Cragg showed Gardener another ground floor room, which he could use for his own team, some of whom had already started arriving.
“What’s upstairs?” asked Gardener.
“We use the upstairs mostly for storage, sir,” replied Cragg. “We have files in a couple of the rooms, and we have another room for all the usual rubbish you collect. The cleaner keeps her stuff there.”
A young constable appeared with everyone’s breakfast. There were two dozen sandwiches, all of which smelled mouth-watering but no doubt contained enough cholesterol to kill a dinosaur. Gardener spotted his healthy option almost immediately: a fruit cocktail, plus a granola and yoghurt mix.
He asked for them to be taken to his incident room. Once breakfast was over, all his team – along with Cragg – gathered there with him.
Gardener stood at the head of the group in front of a blank whiteboard.
It took him twenty minutes to describe in detail the scene as he and Reilly had found it. Only when he’d finished, did he open the floor to questions.
“Is there any information about Alex Wilson yet?” asked Frank Thornton, probably the most experienced officer he had. Thornton was tall and lean, and reminded Gardener of a POW. His hair was never free of dandruff.
“No. PC Close identified him. We know he lived in the flat above the shop, which is owned by his uncle, Albert Armitage. Sean and I will be speaking to the old man shortly.”
“He’s just arrived, sir,” said Cragg. “I’ve shown him to an interview room and given him a cup of tea.”
“And he’s involved with drugs?” asked Bob Anderson, Thornton’s partner, perhaps his complete opposite. Bob was well fed, well read, married with children and grandchildren, but equally as dependable.
“PC Close said he was. Which reminds me, where is Close?”
“He’s here as well, sir,” said Cragg.
Gardener picked up a felt pen and started to create an ANACAPA chart, which would help show all the connections and relationships between each scene once HOLMES started throwing out information. He labelled Scene 1 as the basement, Scene 2, the victim, and Scene 3, the shop. As an afterthought, Wilson’s flat became Scene 4.
“You mentioned a wound, sir,” said Colin Sharp. “Any ideas?”
Gardener knew Sharp would pick up on that. He was probably the most dedicated member of the team. Sharp had proved invaluable in the last two major investigations; he was very thorough and had an unrelenting passion for digging into a person’s past.
“At the moment, no. Sean and I discussed it, but until the pathology report lands on our desk, we have no idea whether or not he’s been in hospital recently, and if he has, what for.”
“But it’s doubtful,” said Sean Reilly. “If he had, it’s bloody likely he’d still be in there.”
“I’m having some photos run off, so before you go, take a copy with you. Someone will have the chance to visit the local hospitals in the area. There can’t be t
hat many. Show them the photo, and ask if anyone recognizes him as having recently been admitted. We might get lucky. However, there are a number of high priority actions to be getting on with.”
Gardener glanced at Sharp. “Colin, I’d like you and Dave Rawson to head the investigation on the shop. It’s going to be a long, drawn-out affair, because old man Armitage didn’t have a computer, nor an electronic till.”
“Christ! Is he running Beamish?” replied Rawson, the team’s biggest individual. He was a rugby centre forward for one of the local squads on his spare weekends. He had short black hair, a beard and moustache, and strong square teeth.