Neither of them glanced his way. Forcing away any thoughts about what they might be discussing, Warren continued.
“The body was found by a Thomas Spencer, one of the professor’s graduate students who happened to be working late that night also. Time of death has been tentatively put at no earlier than about 21:30 hours. Scenes of Crime officers made a preliminary investigation and will resume their work this morning.”
A hand promptly went up: Detective Sergeant Hutchinson.
“Do we know who was in the building at that time and does Spencer have an alibi?”
“Unfortunately, we’re waiting for the head of campus Security to return from up north before we can review the CCTV footage and the building’s swipe-card logs to see who came in and out. The two guards on duty last night were based in the main security building on the other side of the campus and don’t have the know-how or the computer passwords to access that information.”
A few grumbles went around the room and Jones heard at least one muttered utterance about “bloody rent-a-cops”.
Ignoring the dissent, Warren continued.
“The building’s fire-safety log claims that when we arrived there were only two people in the building, although we can’t yet identify them. The system simply counts people in and people out. The two occupants were presumably Spencer and the deceased. None of the building’s fire exits had been opened and all the windows were shut. A search by uniform found no other people in the building. Spencer claims that he was working alone in a small equipment room at the opposite end of the building for about an hour before he discovered the professor’s body. There are no direct eyewitnesses but he says he bumped into two other students on the way over there who were just leaving for the pub. Apparently the room also has a swipe-card entry system to protect the expensive equipment inside. First thing we need to do when the head of Security arrives is check out Spencer’s story.”
A hand rose at the back. “Where is Spencer at the moment?”
“Back home. He’s due to come in for another interview this afternoon. Forensics bagged him and tagged him at the scene last night and he accompanied us here for a full trace-evidence exam and to give a preliminary statement. So far he hasn’t called for a lawyer and is co-operating fully, so we haven’t yet arrested him.” This last point was important. The moment that a suspect was arrested the clock started ticking and the police only had a short time to decide whether to release the suspect — on police bail if appropriate — or charge him and get him before a judge. By delaying arresting Spencer, Jones had successfully pushed back that deadline. However, it was a dangerous game and those questioning him would have to be very careful about making sure that he knew and understood his legal rights, lest they incur the wrath of any future defence counsel and scupper any prosecution before it even got off the ground.
Another hand went up. “What about Tunbridge’s immediate family: wife, partner, kids?”
“Family Liaison broke the news to his wife last night. His kids live away and are on their way home. Early indications are that the wife was having a meal in a busy restaurant with a half-dozen friends at the time of the murder. We’ll check out her alibi later today.”
Looking around the room, Jones saw that nobody else had any questions. They seemed to be happy to let him get on at his own pace. Jones decided to paraphrase what the super had said to him before this meeting, figuring he couldn’t really put a foot wrong if he quoted the boss.
“OK, people. This case is to be treated as our number one priority. I don’t need to remind you that most murders are solved in the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours; the clock is already ticking. I will start assigning roles in a moment. Those of you that aren’t given an immediate task should use the time to lock down any outstanding jobs so that we can turn all of our attention over to solving this case.” Around the room there were a few quiet grumbles, no doubt from those worrying about the impact this temporary shutdown might have on their own caseload, but nobody dissented openly. They all knew the score without being told, Warren realised. Yet another example of the local instincts that he would need to develop if he was to succeed in this posting.
Warren consulted his notepad.
“Immediately after this briefing, DI Sutton and I will meet with the lab’s experimental officer, Dr Mark Crawley, and the head of the Biology department, to see what we can find out about the deceased and have a look at what names come up. Head of Security should be on campus in an hour or so. I’ll need somebody to meet him and have a quick look at any CCTV footage and the building’s swipe-card access log.
“The neighbourhood around the building is mostly non-residential. However, there are a few houses up the north end of the road. DS Khan, I’d like you to organise a few bodies to go door knocking.” A quick nod from the small man. “I’d also like you to go and see if the security guards working the warehouses on the opposite side of the road saw or heard anything. Check if any of their cameras point towards the university — it’s a long shot but they may have picked up something.”
He looked around the room, searching the assembled faces.
“DS Richardson, can you liaise with Traffic and see if any of their cameras have spotted anything? Remember, people, the time of death is likely to have been after 21:30 hours and Spencer’s phone call was logged at 22:19 hours. Assuming that there was another person involved, they may have been in the area for several hours before the attack.” A short squat forty-something clutching a bottle of mineral water nodded her agreement.
“DS Kent, I want you to set up an incident desk to collate incoming information. You’ll be the shift co-ordinator — everybody should report their progress to you. Get HOLMES up and running and get Welwyn up to speed in case we need resources.”
Kent nodded once and cracked his knuckles. A grey-haired man, well into his fifties, he was Middlesbury’s resident expert on the Home Office’s national serious crime database, HOLMES2. He had been one of the first people Jones had met after arriving at Middlesbury and his reputation for efficiency had preceded him. Even if he hadn’t been on shift this morning, Jones would probably have telephoned him and offered him double time. For his part, Kent looked excited at the challenge. Middlesbury wasn’t quite the back of beyond as far as policing was concerned; nevertheless a big juicy murder, as this could well turn out to be, was a welcome diversion from the car thefts, drunken assaults and mid-level drug dealing that the station usually dealt with.
“The rest of you, get yourselves ready to move at a moment’s notice. As we identify witnesses I want us to be able to pick them up for questioning before they get a chance to swap stories. Let’s hit the ground running, folks.” He paused, looking for questions. None, just impatient-looking faces, ready to get on with the task.
“Dismissed.”
Immediately the assembled officers jumped to their feet, the experienced Detective Sergeants Khan and Richardson promptly corralling the detective constables into groups to assign them their tasks. Without so much as a glance in his direction, Sutton and Grayson headed out of the double doors in the direction of Grayson’s office. Warren frowned, tempted to go after them, but he had more pressing concerns. Moving swiftly, he intercepted a young DC before she could be snagged by DS Khan.
“Karen Hardwick?” The young woman flushed slightly, no doubt a little taken aback to be identified by name by the new DCI.
“Yes, sir?”
Warren felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor girl. A probationer, she had only just finished her detective training,
