last car Nola got into was a silver E-Class Mercedes, registered to forty-five-year-old Kenneth Philips, of 92 Magenta Drive, Stevenage.’
Jane accessed the CCTV footage and resumed playback. The LCD screen at the front of the room changed to show grainy footage, taken across the street from the McDonald’s.
Everyone watched the mystery man from the photograph Matthews had shown them. He was looking at Nola from the side of the McDonald’s, before running across the road after a car as it pulled off. The footage offered no further help in terms of a description of the man.
They watched him go to his parked car, sitting almost out of the shot, and hoped that as he drove off, they could pull a plate from the grainy footage.
Claire spoke first. ‘Could anyone make that out?’
Everyone muttered a negative.
Stefan shook his head. ‘Footage is too grainy, lighting’s bad. I think I could make out an R and maybe a five and even that I wouldn’t swear to. I’ll get image enhancement to have a look at it.’
Claire jabbed a finger towards the screen. ‘I want the other cameras in the area checked. Find this man’s car. Get me a number plate, if he’s not using fake ones. Which direction does he head in? Find him.’
She looked back at Jane. ‘Does this Kenneth Philips have any previous convictions?’
‘One speeding conviction last year and a history of unpaid parking tickets.’
‘Kenny came in voluntarily this morning,’ said Harper, ‘although he seemed more concerned that his wife would find out about his night-time activities than the fact he was the last person to see Grant before she was murdered.’
There were a few raised smiles and knowing glances.
‘Aren’t they always,’ Claire said. ‘Carry on, Harper.’
‘Kenny picked Nola up and took her down the side street next to the Wickes warehouse in Haverbridge industrial area. After about an hour in his back seat, he dropped her off.’
‘You showed him the shots of the man chasing his car? Did he say if Nola recognised him?’
Harper shook his head. ‘Apparently Grant barely looked at the guy. She told Kenny she had no idea who he was. It was then that Kenny started worrying about the fact this could make the papers, then his wife would know what he’d done. He said he should’ve forgotten the whole thing and dropped her off when he’d had the chance.’
‘Did he provide a description of the man?’ Stefan asked.
Harper shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said, passing the statement to Claire.
She read over it as Harper continued. ‘He says he was looking through his wing mirror so he didn’t see a great deal. It was dark and raining. He gave the same description as what we’ve seen in the footage.’
‘He thinks he could be about five-eight, average build, but he was wearing a thick coat, so he could’ve been thinner,’ Claire said, skimming over the statement. ‘Mr-fucking-average. He’s like any other man on the street.’
She turned to Matthews.
‘Matthews, check the CCTV footage in Haverbridge industrial area, concentrating on the Wickes warehouse and Turner Street. That’s where Kenny says he dropped her off.’
‘Yes, Guv, but I don’t think there’s any cameras down Turner Street.’
‘You’ll be able to pick him up around that area.’ She looked back at the photograph of the shadowy figure. ‘If he is our man, he’s taking risks, being sloppy, out in the open like this… Have this circulated to the local press. See if we can’t draw in any more eye witnesses. Right now he’s a person of interest.’
‘First mention of Nola’s death has already gone to the local news,’ said Matthews.
Claire handed him back the photograph. ‘They’ll print that photo. It may, if we’re lucky, flush out our man sooner rather than later. If he has anything else planned, he’ll change his plans accordingly if he thinks his time is running out.’
She paused a moment. ‘That car and the van on the other side of the street that are parked up, see if we can get clear shots of the number plates. Who owns them? Someone must remember something.
‘I want someone to speak to the two employees at McDonald’s again, push them harder this time.’ She paused as she looked around the room. ‘I also think we need to look at cold case.’
A few murmurs sounded around the room, nobody really relishing the thought of being assigned the task.
‘It’s just a thought,’ Claire said, trying to quiet their discord, ‘especially if we think the killer planned Nola’s murder… Matthews, can you organise it, see if we have any unsolved murders like this one. Look for similar MO and social class of victim. Nola Grant was a prostitute. It may be the reason she was chosen.’
She looked around the room and pointed at DC Richard Lloyd. ‘Lloyd, I want you to assist DI Matthews.’
While Claire was talking, Stefan was watching Elias from the far side of the room. He didn’t miss the look Elias gave Claire as she spoke. When she paused for breath, Elias raised his hand. Claire gave him a sideways glance.
‘Crest?’
‘I’d assume that cold case is a waste of time.’
Claire paused, giving him the once over. ‘I need to be sure we don’t overlook something that could be waiting to be found in the old files.’
‘You can’t be sure Grant isn’t just the first and last victim.’
‘And you can’t be sure she is, Crest.’
She pushed herself off the table and walked over to him. ‘The killer may have done this before, and his MO might have changed. If he made any errors, our man may strike again and correct what went wrong the first time. She may not be the only victim. She may be part of something bigger.’
‘It’s a novice, not a pro,’ Crest said, and looked away from her with contempt. ‘If the man from the CCTV footage is the killer, he might as well have had a neon sign over his head.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re just not seeing it.’
This stirred a few murmurs from the rest of the team. Those who had worked with Claire previously had seen colleagues like Elias challenge her before, and knew he was skating on thin ice.
They knew it wasn’t so much the content of what he was saying. It was a reasonable assumption that Grant’s murder was a one-off and she’d died by the hands of a first-timer, but it was more the way in which he was behaving and speaking to Claire that niggled.
She leaned back against the table opposite Elias’s desk and her eyes bore into his. ‘Perhaps you can tell me who I should be looking for, Sergeant, since you seem to have a wealth of experience that rivals my own?’
Elias leaned back in his chair, wanting to distance himself from her as much as possible. ‘Daryl Thomas might be a good place to
