September 3rd 2008
QUINN was sat in the BMW on Whiteladies Road, stuck in traffic. He was thinking to himself, how strange it was that no weapon had been discovered at the Crime Scene or the surrounding area. Officers had been searching the area for a long time before he’d arrived, and they still hadn’t found the weapon. Either this guy was quick, clean and good or they had missed something. And yet there was nothing that he could think of that they could have possibly missed.
The witness accounts were piled high in the office. The phones had been going non-stop for the past three days. It was amazing just how many people had woken up in the middle of the night to ring up about something that may have some importance. Although in most of these cases, it was just some “Jacked up Grandma who’s sleeping pills did nothing but give her strange dreams about various things,” or at least that what most of the male species in the offices thought, especially CoP Michael Burrows.
Now came the immense job of clearing up. Sorting through the witness accounts and scraps of information that were piled high in the corner of the main hall. The information that could actually assist in solving the case and which of it, was actually just pages printed off from Wikipedia and BBC.co.uk on Science and the Human Mind on “What Is Psychology Is”. Although saying this, the local WI had helpfully donated boxes of cakes and biscuits, which they said “Will help you keep going!”
As Scott walked in, through the doors of the Station, he was pleased to see it alive with activity. He noticed Insp. Stuart Ivory walking hastily towards him, holding a large wad of papers.
“Sir. These are the first batch of useful witness accounts. From the ones we have analysed so far, there was a black Chrysler 300C at the scene. Apparently it sped off just as our victim was shot.”
“Have we got a plate number?” Scott inquired.
“Not yet, Sir, but this is only about a twelfth of the accounts. We could still find something and Officer Martini said she would go back to the scene tomorrow and see if she could uncover anything useful about the car in Question…”
“Good work, Ivory. And thank your team for me when you see them,” Scott said.
“Thank you, Sir. I will, Sir,” Stuart replied and handed him the armful of Document Wallets and Papers. Scott nodded in appreciation and Stuart walked away.
`Quinn turned around and was surprised to see Inspector Becky Millard, stood next to him. He gazed at her for a moment, and then quickly looked away before she noticed him.
“Good Morning, Inspector,” Scott said, tentatively as he leaned casually on the Reception desk, trying to look cool.
Becky was loud, boisterous and beautiful, but funny in away that Scott found enchanting.
“Morning, Serg….,” she paused, smiled to herself, in a twisted way, and then continued “How’s your case going?”
Scott smiled to no one in particular at her final remark. She said it as if she meant it, but with her special twist that made every word special. Well to him anyway.
“Good thanks Becky, I, I, I mean Millard,” he stumbled.
Becky grinned at him.
“Shit you idiot,” he thought to himself, but secretly he was grinning with her.
Scott was about to continue the conversation when he turned to look at where Becky had been standing and noticed that she had walked away.
“Damn,” Scott muttered to himself. He was kicking himself inside.
“Yes, Sergeant. Can I help you?” Amy Beable asked at reception.
“Morning, Amy. Yes, these files need to go up to Records for Analysis and Documentation, but I need them back when Polly and Gemma are done with them. OK?”
“Sure thing, Scott. I’ll send them up to Gemma now. You should have them back in about an hour or two.”