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  Janey had wandered a little further away. She was gazing into the window of a shop selling home appliances and hardware.

  Waters said, ‘I’m in the market square, so there’s only the curb. I don’t think that would be a good look. Who is it?’

  ‘OK, then. It’s Oliver Salmon.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Things had not kicked off on the Sunday morning. Waters had gone into the station at ten o’clock, telling Janey he’d only be an hour – he was back a little after midday but by then she’d called Sam Cole, who had driven up from Barnham Staithe to collect her. In the afternoon, they talked on the phone, and she said she was going to stay with her uncle for a couple of days. Serena was already present when he arrived at Central, and Wilson was there because the desk was his on this one. But DCI Reeve didn’t show up – instead she had phoned in and Waters had spoken to her briefly. She didn’t tell him as much but he had the impression she wasn’t well. When he said so to Serena, he watched closely for a reaction but if there was one, his detective constable concealed it well.

  Reeve told him to keep this new development as quiet as possible, to keep a lid on it until tomorrow morning. She had informed DCS Allen herself last night and whoever was on duty should be prepared for him to show up. He had seemed, she said with careful understatement, a little animated by the fact that someone had DNA tested an eighteen-year-old with a recognised mental handicap.

  In the incident room, John Wilson opened all the files that contained the data from the forensics lab in Norwich, as Reeve had instructed him to do, and Waters and Serena were there to check and confirm the contents. The results were unequivocal. Unless there had been an error in labelling the samples, Oliver Salmon’s DNA had been found in two locations: on the collar and upper front of Michelle Simms’ blouse, and also, as a very small trace, mixed in with the victim’s own saliva in a sample taken from inside her mouth. Samples have been wrongly labelled, it is not unknown, but that’s why those specialist officers had been called in from Norwich. The chances of such an error nowadays were almost as small as there being two unrelated individuals with matching DNA.

  There were several pages of results, mostly presented in the form of tables and lists of figures. Here and there was a sentence or two to summarise and explain, but laboratory scientists live in a world of hard data, and that’s what they prefer to send to criminal investigation teams. Wilson had flicked through the rest of it before he said to them, ‘Who’s this Oliver Salmon then? Did you meet him? What’s all the bloody fuss about?’

  Neither of them had done so, but Waters explained, and Wilson listened – odd to think that just a few years ago the broad-shouldered, bullet-headed detective sergeant had tried to intimidate the newcomer into giving up all sorts of information about his opposite number, Detective Sergeant Smith. In other ways, of course, Wilson hadn’t changed much, and when Waters had finished, Wilson said, ‘Well, Down’s syndrome or not, you can’t argue with this lot. It’ll cause the brass a few headaches, though. Can we charge him? If we do, the lawyers will claim unfit to plead, I ’spose…’

  Waters took over the trackpad – he wanted to see the rest of the results that had been produced from the crime scene he’d been controlling nine days ago. It was all there: the soil sample analysis, a list of botanical Latin names, the three-dimensional images produced by Gridder with, at their centre, an outline drawing of a prone human figure to represent in some universal and abstract way all victims of murder, and a sub-section for the shoe found near Michelle Simms, the absence of clean prints on it confirmed, and a list of chemical substances which Waters couldn’t make sense of – had they been found on the shoe or had they been used to perform tests upon it?

  Wilson had said, ‘If they get away with unfit to plead, we can’t get a conviction. The case is wrapped up but we don’t get onto the score sheet. I never reckon that’s fair, do you?’

  Neither Waters nor Serena had answered him. Wilson was probably the least sympathetic officer in Kings Lake Central, hard-headed and often ruthless, but he was also right on this occasion. Modern management practice pays lip service to many things but in the police service it all comes down to conviction rates, to a percentage at the end of every month. If you tell people often enough that’s how they will be judged, they will behave accordingly and will do what is necessary to meet the target.

  This Monday morning, some twenty hours later, Alison Reeve was still missing. Waters thought back but could not recall her ever taking a day’s sick-leave in his time at Kings Lake. Detective Chief Superintendent Allen had been in early, shut away in his office, but now, at 08.30, there was to be a briefing in the Michelle Simms incident room, and Allen would be taking it. Terek was in the building but he hadn’t yet spoken to Waters. There were fifteen officers present. After such a significant development, there ought to be a sense of anticipation, even excitement, but the prevailing mood seemed to be one of apprehension.

  Then Terek entered, followed a few seconds later by Allen. The detective chief superintendent took the empty table at the front of the room, laid some papers in front of him and poked a finger at the laptop which controlled the interactive whiteboard. Today’s screensaver was an arctic landscape with a polar bear apparently adrift on an iceberg. Serena made a little noise in her throat, and Waters focused on quiet breathing, resisting the temptation to shake his head.

  Allen said, ‘I’m sure you are all aware that there has been an important development over the weekend. I can tell you it has already led to some lengthy and involved conversations on my part with Norwich. I spent most of yesterday afternoon in conference calls with the county’s police solicitors, and I expect to spend a good part of today going over the same ground with the CPS…’

  And the slow stare around at the occupants of the room was clearly saying, and one of you must be to blame. The stare ended with a long look at Detective Inspector Terek.

  ‘DI Terek is going to give you the background and explain how we came to be where we are in this investigation.’

  Terek went to stand as was his usual habit – then he realised that Allen had begun the briefing from his seat and thought that he ought, on this occasion, to follow suit. Waters was sure the two of them, Allen and Terek, must already have had discussions this morning, resulting in the detective inspector being awarded this dubious honour. Terek was now in the firing line. The only question might be whether, if you could hit him with a good one, you could win a coconut.

  Terek said, ‘As you know, on the morning of Friday the 28th of July, DCI Reeve arranged for the men aged eighteen and over staying on the Pinehills caravan site to give samples of their DNA, so they could be elim-’

  ‘Ah. Did DCI Reeve specifically ask that men staying on the site be tested? And are we to take it by that she meant the guests in the caravans?’

  Terek looked up at Allen, and it was difficult not to feel a little sympathy for him. Difficult but perhaps not impossible.

  Terek said, ‘I do not recall the parameters for testing being discussed at that level of detail, sir. Oliver Salmon was staying with his aunt, the owner of the site. But he was not a guest in a caravan. DCI Reeve did not specify the testing of only such people as were paying guests.’

  ‘I see. We need to be very clear on all this. Some of you might think I’m making an unnecessary fuss…’

  Allen looked about him again but there were no takers.

  ‘… but if this matter is ever examined in open court, the issue of consent will be of central importance. You were present, DI Terek; did Oliver Salmon give his consent to the DNA test? Did he give it freely? Was there any pressure or even a presumption that he must be tested?’

  ‘There was no pressure. In fact-’

  Allen interrupted again, with an unpleasant edge in his voice, ‘Because some of you might be thinking all that matters is the result of the test. I’m here to tell you that is not the case. Politically, this is a minefield. One wrong step and somebody gets the
ir leg blown off! Or worse…’

  At Waters’ side, he heard a stifled whimper from Serena; when he glanced at her, she managed to straighten her face again. Of course it was funny but he didn’t feel amused – he felt a little angry. This was Allen using some ritual humiliation of the detective inspector to distance himself from an imaginary explosion in the media that would be many months away if it ever took place at all, and it was easy for Allen this morning because of the absence of Alison Reeve. She would have stepped in by now to defend Terek, but if she’d been here, it was doubtful whether Allen would have put all this upon Terek in the first place.

  Terek said, ‘As I was saying, sir, there was no pressure put upon anyone to give a sample, other than us telling them they would be helping with our inquiries. Oliver Salmon was present in the site office where the testing was carried out. His aunt explained to him what was going on – but not with all the details, obviously – and he asked if he could be tested as well. It seemed that he wanted to join in and-’

  ‘He wanted to join in?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘But it’s not the latest party game, is it, DNA testing?’

  ‘No, sir, but his aunt said he’d only just turned eighteen and that being treated as an adult was important to him, so she, that’s Shirley Salmon, said it would be alright…’

  Allen’s mouth had dropped open a little but it was a theatrical gesture, nothing more.

  ‘So the boy’s aunt took the final decision as to whether he should be tested in a murder inquiry?’

  ‘Well, you could say that… But I accept responsibility, as the senior officer present, sir.’

  And that was most likely all that DCS Allen wanted to hear, before he went on to explain the legal complications of questioning, arresting and charging a person with a recognised mental disorder.

  ‘DCI Reeve felt unwell over the weekend. She has a doctor’s appointment this morning but says it’s nothing too serious. She might be in later today.’

  Terek looked over his spectacles at the CID officers but there was no supplementary question. All of John Wilson’s team were here, along with Waters, Serena and Richard Ford. Behind the detective inspector, the interactive whiteboard still showed the pages of forensic data that had reset the compass on the investigation into the murder of Michelle Simms.

  Terek went on, ‘We’re going to spend time, probably the rest of the morning, assimilating all the forensic evidence, but some things are already clear. First, the victim was significantly over the blood alcohol limit for driving a vehicle. As far as we are aware, she did not drive that evening, but the point is we know such levels of inebriation mean her judgement will have been impaired, and possibly also her ability to fight off an attacker. That is significant now.

  ‘Second, Oliver Salmon’s DNA is present on the victim, in the form of his saliva. It is present in two locations. One of these is on her clothing – specifically on the front of the blouse she was wearing. It is essential that we’re able to plot Oliver Salmon’s movements throughout the time Michelle Simms was staying at the caravan site. How many times, if at all, did they come into contact with each other? How close was that contact? If this comes to trial, a defence lawyer might argue that the DNA on her clothing was transferred in an otherwise innocent encounter. It’s a sobering thought,’ Terek said, in a rare reflective moment, ‘that working together as we do here, we would find each other’s DNA on ourselves…’

  Waters saw Serena look across at Mike Dunn, who winked back at her. Then Wilson was looking at her as well, and she pulled a face of mock disgust and pretended to brush something off her right leg.

  ‘But the other DNA trace of Salmon’s saliva was located mingled with the victim’s own saliva. No lawyer is going to argue that away easily, as I’m sure you have already realised. It’s a damning piece of evidence, in my opinion.’

  Wilson said, ‘Too right, sir. There’s no way she got involved with that willingly, is there? It’s disgusting, the thought of it.’

  Waters went to touch her arm but he was too late – Serena said to Wilson, ‘Got involved with that? Are you referring to Oliver Salmon?’

  Wilson smiled at O’Leary before he faced Serena Butler again.

  ‘Course not. I wouldn’t be so politically incorrect, would I? I was referring to the exchanging of bodily fluids – the process, not to any particular person.’

  O’Leary laughed, as did a couple of others. Serena was bristling, ready to go again, but Waters said quietly, ‘Leave it,’ and to his surprise she did so. Then Richard Ford said to Terek, ‘Are we bringing him in today, sir?’

  ‘I think we will, but that requires careful preparation. We need to establish Oliver Salmon’s movements on the evening of the 27th in particular, and it isn’t clear how much he will be able to tell us himself. I don’t know whether they are able…’

  Terek was looking vaguely in Serena Butler’s direction. Then he said, ‘I don’t know whether people with that disability have recall of events ten days previously. From what I could see when I was in the site office, Mrs Salmon is going to be important in this process. We need to speak to Michaela Fletcher again, to see if she remembers meeting Oliver Salmon when her sister was present. And assuming we do bring in Salmon today, we’re going to need to show we have made every effort to address his disability. Some of you will remember working with Detective Constable Marta Dobrowski last year-’

  Wilson said with a serious face, ‘Yes, sir. I’m not likely to forget that in a hurry,’ and there was more appreciative laughter from some in his team. Waters heard a muttered ‘You pig!’ from his left.

  As usual, Terek waited for it to subside and then carried on as if it hadn’t happened.

  ‘DC Dobrowski is from Regional Serious Crimes. She has expertise in interviewing people with,’ and he glanced down at his notes, ‘complex personality issues. She was very helpful when we were interviewing Stephen Sweeney. I have already reached out to her this morning, and once she has cleared it with DCS Alexander, she should be available to us.’

  Smith would have enjoyed that, the reaching out to her… The plan, Terek went on, is as follows. The foundations for bringing in Oliver Salmon would be put in place over the rest of the morning, supervised and signed off by Detective Chief Superintendent Allen. Terek would contact Shirley Salmon, establish her and her nephew’s whereabouts and say there were some further questions about Michelle Simms’ stay at Pinehills. Obviously, he would not go into any detail. Ideally, if she arrived before lunchtime, DC Dobrowski would be invited to brief the officers involved on the best way to handle their contact with Oliver Salmon. She would also be involved in any interviewing of the young man.

  Waters asked about legal representation for the Salmons, raising a few eyebrows. Under normal circumstances, criminal investigation officers will often try to interview initially without a solicitor present – this is the “helping us with our inquiries” phase of questioning which occurs even with individuals who are plainly suspects. At some point, the interviewee will either ask about representation themselves or have it put to them by an officer that a duty solicitor is available, and perhaps advisable.

  Wilson said, ‘They can bring their own if they’ve got one, or they get whoever’s on duty, the same as everyone else.’

  ‘But it isn’t the same as usual, John. Oliver Salmon isn’t the same as everyone else.’

  Wilson was quiet, watching Waters with a fixed look, and Serena Butler could not have been the only person in the room seeing and hearing something she thought she would not see or hear again. If only Murray had been here as well… And is Chris going on with this?

  Wilson said, ‘I’ll give you that, he isn’t. Most of us haven’t strangled a woman and dumped her body in the dunes. He’s got some disability but that doesn’t change the process. If it did, every mother’s son would be pleading insanity and getting a nice easy ride in a mental ward.’

  Serena was shaking her head.

 
Waters said, ‘His disability has already changed the process. We’re bringing in a specialist officer, and if we charge him I’m sure she won’t be the only one. The Salmon family are going to need specialist legal advice.’

  ‘Well? That’s their problem, isn’t it? The last thing we need is them having some smart-arse sitting in there from the off, isn’t it, sir?’

  The appeal was to Terek, for whom, under normal circumstances, Wilson seemed to have little respect. The detective inspector took his time in answering. He had seen something, and it was probably this: Allen was already on the procedural warpath in the case because the likely perpetrator was mentally disabled. Allen could see headlines. It might be advisable in this case, therefore, to have considered the question of representation before the first interview commenced.

  Terek said, ‘Chris, I’ll leave this with you, then. Check the duty solicitors’ rota. If you think anyone needs to be made aware of the situation, do so, but only in general terms, obviously. John, as the desk, you need to set up a new file on Oliver Salmon. He has no record, of course, so where do we begin? What needs to go into it as quickly as possible? Ideas, everyone.’

  There were three possibilities on the rota. Waters had got to know the regular duty solicitors, not in the personal sense but professionally he had met most of them and he knew how they operated. Although their rights and responsibilities were clearly laid down, there was considerable variation in the way they applied themselves to the work. They could make the lives of interviewing detectives easier or more difficult, and to a surprising degree.

  One of the three names, however, was unfamiliar to him – a Mrs Gethin from a firm in East Dearing. That was at least a half hour’s drive as well. The most obvious choice was also available today, and this was Andrew Brown from a practice in Kings Lake; this man was fair and honest with clients but very police friendly. He would usually be the first choice for every experienced detective in the building. And then, finally, there was Christine Archer – a tiny, dark-haired lady with left-wing leanings, a limitless range of designer spectacles and an apparently endless capacity for making an investigator’s life difficult. It was virtually impossible to put anything past Ms Archer. And she has to be a Ms, thought Waters, because one just couldn’t imagine domestic life with anyone remotely like her. She was the only duty solicitor who could cause Smith to reconsider how a forthcoming interview would be conducted, which, in its own way, was quite a compliment. That had happened two years ago, before they interviewed Philip Wood.