The Hidden by Sally Spencer

Author:Sally Spencer [Spencer, Sally ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2017-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

NINE

Tuesday

Given all the coverage on the television, and the front page headlines in the morning papers, there wasn’t anyone in the CID suite – not even those who had nothing to do with the investigation – who didn’t feel a sense of dread about the imminent arrival of DCI Dixon.

When he did finally arrive, the walls did not actually shake, nor did the overhead lights flicker – but it certainly felt as if they did.

‘Last night, I took part in a raid on a house in Birch Avenue,’ he told his team – and anyone else within fifty yards. ‘The reason I authorized that raid was because DI Marsden and DS Higgins had assured me that we’d find Mary Green’s killer there.’ His angry eyes swept the room. ‘Where is DI Marsden?’ he demanded.

For a moment, no one spoke, then DS Higgins sighed and said, ‘He’s with the telephone team in the incident room, sir. We’ve made an appeal for information regarding the motorbike and we’re expecting—’

‘Now that really is convenient for DI Marsden, isn’t it?’ Dixon said. ‘Talk about a gutless wonder. But he can’t hide away forever.’ He paused. ‘Now where was I?’

There was another silence, then Beresford said, ‘You were talking about the raid, sir.’

‘Ah yes, the raid! We didn’t catch Jim Coles, did we, DS Higgins?’

‘No, sir,’ Higgins mumbled.

‘I can’t hear you, sergeant,’ Dixon said. ‘Speak up!’

Higgins raised his head. ‘No, sir, we didn’t,’ he said.

‘And why was that?’

‘Because he was dead.’

‘Because he was dead! And don’t you think, sergeant, that you should have checked up on that before we went into his parents’ house mob handed?’

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Higgins said.

‘Oh, there’s no need to apologize,’ Dixon told him. ‘I love being made to look a bloody idiot in the papers and on television. It’s a lifetime ambition which – thanks to you – I’ve finally achieved.’ He paused to light a cigarette. ‘I suppose you’d better brief us on developments since that monumental cock-up, sergeant – if, indeed, there have been any developments.’

Yesterday, I was the golden boy, Higgins thought miserably – and now, as far as the boss is concerned, I’m less than dog shit.

He was going to have to climb back into Dixon’s favour very quickly, he told himself, because if he didn’t, the rest of the team (who had always resented his favoured status) would attack him like the wounded animal he was and rip him to shreds.

‘Jim Coles’ bike was a write-off,’ he said, ‘so what we saw going through the West Gate on the CCTV film was almost certainly a stolen bike, which was using Jim Coles’ registration plates. So what we’ve done is to appeal to all riders of Honda 250cc bikes to come and register with us. We’ve also appealed to any members of the public to ring the hotline if they notice that somebody who used to ride a Honda 250cc suddenly isn’t riding it anymore.’

It would have been nice to get a grunt of approval at that point, but Dixon said nothing.

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