to make the twenty-five-mile journey to the isolated Kinder Scout, where discovery is less likely and I’ve got food stock-piled for at least six months. An intellectual assessment suggests a balance has to be reached: leaving the current drain too early will risk capture if the area is still swarming with police; alternatively, staying too long will increase the risk of accidental discovery by a member of the public, possibly a dog-walker. Reluctantly I also admit that there is an emotional aspect to my decision-making. Of course I’m keen to move on to Kinder Scout, so I’m one step closer to my ultimate freedom, but at the same time the previous night’s pursuit by the police has left me exhausted and badly shaken, and I certainly don’t want to expose myself to a similar event.
To make an informed and rational judgement I need to know what’s going on in the outside world. More specifically, have the police identified me as the prime suspect, and if so, do they have any leads as to my whereabouts? In terms of the former, from my work in the lab I know that the PCR fingerprinting analysis of the forensic DNA evidence won’t be available yet, but a description from the officers at the scene and my unfortunate run-in with WPC Shaw will certainly point the finger at me. I reach over to the front pocket of the rucksack and pull out a small DAB/FM radio, about the size and weight of a pack of playing cards, which I’d bought a few days earlier. I’d already preset the FM and digital stations for both BBC Radio 4 and the local stations BBC Radio Sheffield and Radio Hallam. I switch on to the latter, and with an earpiece in situ the reception on the digital station is crystal clear. A song is playing: a Barbara Streisand number, I think.
I absently listen to the rest of the ditty before the news starts at 11:00 a.m. The female newsreader begins: “… a man in his thirties was brutally attacked and killed in the Linton Green area of the city at around 10:45 p.m. yesterday evening. The name of the man has not yet been released; however, police are appealing for witnesses to come forward. The senior investigating officer, Detective Superintendent Adam Greene, is holding a press conference this afternoon and we’ll bring you more details as we have them. In other news ...” The newsreader goes on to discuss the visit of Prince Charles to the city and I turn the radio off.
For the next couple of hours I ponder the short broadcast. I’ve now got confirmation that Musgrove is dead, although it’s no great surprise, given the extent of the injuries I inflicted. In other aspects the news report provides no further useful information, and the police, at least via the media, have not acknowledged that I’m a suspect in the attack or even released a description of the attacker. Little the wiser, I lie back down on the sleeping bag, nibble at a chocolate digestive and wait for the next bulletin.
I turn on to Radio 4 with the World at One broadcast just starting. The first news piece describes a terrorist act in Iraq, followed by a change in the Bank of England interest rate. I don’t listen to the specific details as my concentration begins to lapse, but the next item immediately grabs my attention: “… a man has been attacked with a machete close to the city centre of Sheffield. The man, whose name has not yet been released, is in his thirties and was killed instantly.” The news anchor-man then links to a reporter at the scene who elaborates: “Details are sketchy but it is believed that the murdered man was suspected to have been the driver involved in a hit-and-run incident in the city almost six months ago. This resulted in the death of the parents, wife and two young children of a local man, Dr Julian Scott. Police were unable to bring charges at the time due to insufficient forensic evidence and failure of witnesses to come forward. I understand
To make an informed and rational judgement I need to know what’s going on in the outside world. More specifically, have the police identified me as the prime suspect, and if so, do they have any leads as to my whereabouts? In terms of the former, from my work in the lab I know that the PCR fingerprinting analysis of the forensic DNA evidence won’t be available yet, but a description from the officers at the scene and my unfortunate run-in with WPC Shaw will certainly point the finger at me. I reach over to the front pocket of the rucksack and pull out a small DAB/FM radio, about the size and weight of a pack of playing cards, which I’d bought a few days earlier. I’d already preset the FM and digital stations for both BBC Radio 4 and the local stations BBC Radio Sheffield and Radio Hallam. I switch on to the latter, and with an earpiece in situ the reception on the digital station is crystal clear. A song is playing: a Barbara Streisand number, I think.
I absently listen to the rest of the ditty before the news starts at 11:00 a.m. The female newsreader begins: “… a man in his thirties was brutally attacked and killed in the Linton Green area of the city at around 10:45 p.m. yesterday evening. The name of the man has not yet been released; however, police are appealing for witnesses to come forward. The senior investigating officer, Detective Superintendent Adam Greene, is holding a press conference this afternoon and we’ll bring you more details as we have them. In other news ...” The newsreader goes on to discuss the visit of Prince Charles to the city and I turn the radio off.
For the next couple of hours I ponder the short broadcast. I’ve now got confirmation that Musgrove is dead, although it’s no great surprise, given the extent of the injuries I inflicted. In other aspects the news report provides no further useful information, and the police, at least via the media, have not acknowledged that I’m a suspect in the attack or even released a description of the attacker. Little the wiser, I lie back down on the sleeping bag, nibble at a chocolate digestive and wait for the next bulletin.
I turn on to Radio 4 with the World at One broadcast just starting. The first news piece describes a terrorist act in Iraq, followed by a change in the Bank of England interest rate. I don’t listen to the specific details as my concentration begins to lapse, but the next item immediately grabs my attention: “… a man has been attacked with a machete close to the city centre of Sheffield. The man, whose name has not yet been released, is in his thirties and was killed instantly.” The news anchor-man then links to a reporter at the scene who elaborates: “Details are sketchy but it is believed that the murdered man was suspected to have been the driver involved in a hit-and-run incident in the city almost six months ago. This resulted in the death of the parents, wife and two young children of a local man, Dr Julian Scott. Police were unable to bring charges at the time due to insufficient forensic evidence and failure of witnesses to come forward. I understand
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