’ave been done, guv. I ain’t seen nothing like it.’
‘I agree, Sergeant. It beggars belief.’
‘Yes, but these murders have been committed, haven’t they?’ Superintendent Hughes said matter-of-factly. ‘So what has Jones found? And Forensics?’
Pendragon turned back to the board. ‘Let’s consider the Berrick murder first.’ A morgue picture of the gallery owner’s body appeared. ‘The opening in his face was definitely made post-mortem. Jones believes it was done with some sort of mechanical punch or press.’
‘Nice,’ Towers muttered.
‘Dr Newman has confirmed that the man was murdered at least an hour before he was placed in the tableau. She’s found no useful prints and suspects the murderer wore protective clothing.’
‘A thorough job,’ Hughes commented, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward. ‘Do Forensics have any idea if we’re dealing with a single murderer?’
‘Can’t say for sure,’ Pendragon replied. ‘But Dr Newman found these.’ An image of the tyre track on the gallery floor replaced the morgue shot on the smart board. ‘I’d been wondering if there was more than one killer involved, but this suggests otherwise. Black tyre rubber from a wheelchair.’
‘So you’re suggesting that our killer dispatches Berrick with a needle in the neck. Smashes a six-inch-wide hole through his face and head, dresses him up and then transports the body to the gallery and across the room in a wheelchair before setting him up,’ Jimmy Thatcher declared. ‘A bit much, ain’t it, sir?’
‘Well, yes, it is, Sergeant,’ Pendragon retorted. ‘But you have before you the end result. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would have thought it pretty far-fetched too.’
Hughes was staring at the smart board, rubbing her chin with the fingers of her right hand. ‘Okay, it’s a working theory, Pendragon,’ she said. ‘Until we have a bettersuggestion, we’ll assume that’s what happened.’ She half turned in her chair. ‘What would you like to do next?’
‘First, check out CCTV footage from the neighbourhood. See if we can get a car reg, or anything else to give us a lead. It’s obvious the killer is using some specialist equipment. They must have a work space and access to equipment. It’ll be a slog but we have to follow any leads we can in that direction. Turner, what have you got so far from Jackson Price?’
Jez pushed himself off the wall and drew his notebook from the pocket of his jacket. ‘The guest list reads like a Who’s Who of the London Cool Brigade,’ he began. ‘Super models, rock stars. It was obviously a big do and our vic was extremely well connected. I spoke to Mr Price. He was helpful, but I can’t say I gleaned much from him. He gives the impression it was all happy chappies at the gallery. He and Berrick were apparently best buddies.’
‘Yeah … bet they were!’ Towers declared.
Thatcher and Vickers sniggered. Pendragon glared at them and they looked at the floor. ‘Go on, Turner.’
‘The evening went smoothly, apparently. Which I think is pretty bloody surprising considering all the towering egos gathered under one roof.’
‘What about the cab company?’ Pendragon turned to the others then to explain that Norman Hedridge claimed he had dropped Berrick at his flat and hadn’t gone in with him.
‘The company traced the driver for me. I spoke to him on the phone and he checks out Hedridge’s story. According to the log in his car, he dropped Berrick at his flat in Bexley Road, Bethnal Green, at one-seventeen a.m.He then took Hedridge to an address in the Barbican. Hedridge paid the fare for both him and Berrick using a credit card. That’s logged at one-twenty-nine.
‘All right, I want you to keep working the angle. We know Berrick and our charming MEP Mr Hedridge were … intimate at one time. Pay Price another visit, probe a bit deeper.’
‘You think this has something to do with the gay scene, Pendragon?’ Hughes
‘I agree, Sergeant. It beggars belief.’
‘Yes, but these murders have been committed, haven’t they?’ Superintendent Hughes said matter-of-factly. ‘So what has Jones found? And Forensics?’
Pendragon turned back to the board. ‘Let’s consider the Berrick murder first.’ A morgue picture of the gallery owner’s body appeared. ‘The opening in his face was definitely made post-mortem. Jones believes it was done with some sort of mechanical punch or press.’
‘Nice,’ Towers muttered.
‘Dr Newman has confirmed that the man was murdered at least an hour before he was placed in the tableau. She’s found no useful prints and suspects the murderer wore protective clothing.’
‘A thorough job,’ Hughes commented, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward. ‘Do Forensics have any idea if we’re dealing with a single murderer?’
‘Can’t say for sure,’ Pendragon replied. ‘But Dr Newman found these.’ An image of the tyre track on the gallery floor replaced the morgue shot on the smart board. ‘I’d been wondering if there was more than one killer involved, but this suggests otherwise. Black tyre rubber from a wheelchair.’
‘So you’re suggesting that our killer dispatches Berrick with a needle in the neck. Smashes a six-inch-wide hole through his face and head, dresses him up and then transports the body to the gallery and across the room in a wheelchair before setting him up,’ Jimmy Thatcher declared. ‘A bit much, ain’t it, sir?’
‘Well, yes, it is, Sergeant,’ Pendragon retorted. ‘But you have before you the end result. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would have thought it pretty far-fetched too.’
Hughes was staring at the smart board, rubbing her chin with the fingers of her right hand. ‘Okay, it’s a working theory, Pendragon,’ she said. ‘Until we have a bettersuggestion, we’ll assume that’s what happened.’ She half turned in her chair. ‘What would you like to do next?’
‘First, check out CCTV footage from the neighbourhood. See if we can get a car reg, or anything else to give us a lead. It’s obvious the killer is using some specialist equipment. They must have a work space and access to equipment. It’ll be a slog but we have to follow any leads we can in that direction. Turner, what have you got so far from Jackson Price?’
Jez pushed himself off the wall and drew his notebook from the pocket of his jacket. ‘The guest list reads like a Who’s Who of the London Cool Brigade,’ he began. ‘Super models, rock stars. It was obviously a big do and our vic was extremely well connected. I spoke to Mr Price. He was helpful, but I can’t say I gleaned much from him. He gives the impression it was all happy chappies at the gallery. He and Berrick were apparently best buddies.’
‘Yeah … bet they were!’ Towers declared.
Thatcher and Vickers sniggered. Pendragon glared at them and they looked at the floor. ‘Go on, Turner.’
‘The evening went smoothly, apparently. Which I think is pretty bloody surprising considering all the towering egos gathered under one roof.’
‘What about the cab company?’ Pendragon turned to the others then to explain that Norman Hedridge claimed he had dropped Berrick at his flat and hadn’t gone in with him.
‘The company traced the driver for me. I spoke to him on the phone and he checks out Hedridge’s story. According to the log in his car, he dropped Berrick at his flat in Bexley Road, Bethnal Green, at one-seventeen a.m.He then took Hedridge to an address in the Barbican. Hedridge paid the fare for both him and Berrick using a credit card. That’s logged at one-twenty-nine.
‘All right, I want you to keep working the angle. We know Berrick and our charming MEP Mr Hedridge were … intimate at one time. Pay Price another visit, probe a bit deeper.’
‘You think this has something to do with the gay scene, Pendragon?’ Hughes
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