CXVI The Beginning of the End (Book 1): A Gripping Murder Mystery and Suspense Thriller (CXVI BOOK 1) by Angie Smith Page B

about. As
for Mateland, ask Dawn.”
    “When were you last on that footbridge?” Woods
asked.
    “I’ve never been on it.”
    “So there won’t be any footage of you, recorded by
the traffic camera at Junction 39?”
    “No. I’ve never been on the bridge, honest. Dawn and
I go up there. . .”
    “To talk,” Barnes interrupted.
    “Maria,” snapped Woods.
    “We go there to be alone, and we’ve never gone
anywhere near the footbridge.”
    Woods leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers
through his bristle hair. “What’s standard gravity?” he asked.
    “Err, the stuff that keeps us on the ground,” Wright
replied, looking puzzled.
    “Right, we’ll need to take your computer and any
mobiles you have. And I don’t want you contacting Dawn Mateland until we’ve
spoken with her. Understood?”
    “There are some intimate texts between us on the
phones and the same goes for e-mails.”
    “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in that sort of
thing,” Woods said.
    Wright handed over two mobiles and a laptop and
disconnected the computer. “You won’t find anything incriminating.”
    “That’s what they all say,” Barnes said, placing the
seized items in sealed plastic bags.
    They carried the evidence out to the car and placed it
in the boot.
    “Come on, we need to get over to Penistone and
interview Mateland’s wife,” Woods said, jumping in the car. “While I’m driving
can you ring McLean and tell him to get hold of all the CCTV footage of
Mateland travelling to and from work over the past month. I’m interested in the
motorway cameras, and the cameras at the Traffic Unit where he was based up at
Junction 41. I’m looking for anyone taking a particular interest in his
activities.”
    “Do you think Wright had something to do with this?”
Barnes asked.
    “Do you?”
    “I don’t think he’s smart enough.”
    “To be honest, neither do I, but we’ll have his
landline, mobiles and computer checked out first.”
    “It’s funny that Greenwood’s first reaction was the
bridge cage was intact, with no signs of tampering. He never considered anyone
might dismantle the cover rail, bend up the meshing and then reconstruct it.
Just because there were no marks on the bolts, he totally dismissed the
possibility they might be new and newly painted.”
    “Well he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer,”
Woods pointed out.
    “So what drew your attention to the possibility the
cage may have been dismantled? Was it the reflective tape?”
    Woods nodded slowly. “And the fact that the cone was
out of sync with the others. I concentrated on the traffic and, because of the
average speed cameras, ninety-nine per cent of vehicles are travelling at
50mph. I imagined dropping an item on random cars as they passed the marker,
and each time I got the impression it would have gone straight through the
windscreen. Then, I closely inspected the caging and spotted those tiny cracks
in the paintwork where the meshing had been bent.”
    “I’m impressed.”
    “The question is, who would go to the trouble of
disguising their actions, selecting the most difficult bridge that you could
imagine, and then leave a calling card in the knowledge it might never be
found? If it had been up to Greenwood we’d be looking for someone who’d thrown
the drain cover from the side of the carriageway.”
    “Maybe he,” she paused, “assuming it is a he.”
    Woods waited. He sensed she was concentrating.
    “Half of the bridge is unseen by cameras.”
    “True.”
    “The roadworks are keeping the speed of vehicles at
50mph.”
    “Yes.”
    “And there are only two lanes open thus reducing the
number of lanes the target vehicle would be in.”
    Woods looked away. He was impressed with her
deductions but there was something troubling him. “But why paint CMXVI on the
back of the cover plates?”
    “That’s a good question, but, for what it’s worth,
here’s my theory. Because Mateland was a police officer they knew the