A Time For Justice by Nick Oldham

confirmed. ‘If TSU can do the same
for the hotel video and lift the registered number from this guy’s
car, we could be well on our way.’
    ‘ And all I have to do is catch him,’ Karen said. She looked
expectantly at Donaldson. ‘So, what’s the guy’s name?’
    ‘ That’s the problem. I don’t know. There is another problem
too. I believe he’s only fulfilled part of his contract. If we
don’t get him quick, he’ll kill again.’
     
     
    In spite of her tardy entrance to an already delayed briefing,
Karen Wilde handled the start of her first murder investigation
with the assurance of a seasoned professional.
    She stepped onto a raised platform at one end of the gym and
called for quiet.
    Within minutes she had them eating out of her hand. The
irritability of the officers soon evaporated as she directed her
considerable public-speaking skills at them. She concluded by
naming the pairings of detectives and asking them to see the
Allocator for their tasks in half an hour.
    The investigation was underway at last.
    Before leaving the platform she said, ‘Is DS Christie
here?’
    ‘ Yes, ma’ am,’ he said from the back of the room.
    ‘ My office - ten minutes,’ she clipped and stepped
down.
    ‘ Lucky you,’ someone said to Henry.
    ‘ Why?’
    ‘ Spanking.’
    Henry chuckled.
    He knocked on the office door and entered. Karen was sitting
behind her desk reading the initial pathology and forensic
reports.
    ‘ Sit down,’ she said, briefly looking up then returning her
attention to the paperwork.
    He sat on a chair opposite her and waited, wondering what job
he was going to be given. He speculated. Must be interesting if she
was giving it to him personally.
    Eventually she stacked the papers neatly in front of her and
looked at Henry.
    ‘ DS Christie,’ she said at length.
    ‘ Yes.’
    ‘ How are you? You look awful, if you don’t mind me
saying.’
    He shrugged. ‘Don’t feel too bad, just sore. Can’t wait to get
going with this, though.’
    She frowned. ‘Hm,’ she said.
    Henry’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong here.
    There was a pause, then: ‘Can you tell me how it is that
within the space of a few minutes yesterday you performed an action
which reflected great credit on the force, followed by one which
has brought us equal public disgrace?’
    Henry’s mouth sagged open. He clamped it shut with a clash of
his teeth.
    ‘ Your action at the scene of the bombing in trying to rescue
those children was commendable. Shortly afterwards, in an incident
which was broadcast on nationwide TV, you threw a reporter down the
riverbank. What do you have to say?’
    Flabbergasted, Henry shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
    ‘ Well, I can tell you that an official complaint has been made
by the BBC. It alleges assault, abuse of authority, discreditable
conduct and such-like. Here. . .’ She handed him a form.
    It was the notorious Form 14, a Discipline and Complaints
form. On it were set out the allegations in detail.
    Karen cautioned Henry and asked him if he had anything to say.
He shook his head sadly, on the verge of tears.
    ‘ D and C will be looking into it,’ Karen said. ‘In the
meantime you can return to your normal duty.’
    ‘ I’m not on the investigation then?’
    ‘ No - you’re too personally involved. It wouldn’t be right,
for your sake. Before you go, though, would you write out a
detailed statement about what happened yesterday and submit it to
the statement reader. OK, that’s all.’

Chapter Five
     
    Hinksman drove his hired Mondeo east across the county to
Rossendale, an area of high moorland, deep valleys and towns
clinging precariously to the hillsides like clusters of
weather-beaten barnacles. He was making for a remote farmhouse
situated high above Bacup which had fantastic panoramic views
across the Tops towards the ugly sprawl of Greater Manchester in
the south.
    The house had been renovated and modernised and owed little to
its agricultural origins. Now it was