Buried (DC Jack Warr #1) - Lynda La Plante Page 0,46

room, Jack got out his mobile and started to search through all the notes connected to this investigation so far.

‘Anik,’ Ridley said calmly, once they were all assembled, ‘we need to be mindful of those around us when announcing information as potentially volatile as “the corpse in our mortuary might be that of an ex-copper from this station”. Do you know when Mike retired? Do you even know if he retired? Or was he sacked? Did he work with any one of those officers out there?’

Anik understood his mistake. ‘I don’t know, sir.’

‘Tell me what you’ve got.’

‘That was pretty much it, sir. My mate’s sending me all the details now.’

Anik got out his mobile, opened his emails and refreshed the app. At the same time, Jack was rifling through his own mobile, trying to find the notes he needed.

‘I’ve heard the name, sir,’ Jack mumbled. ‘Mike Withey’s already connected to this case somehow, I just can’t . . . Bear with me . . .’

Anik was desperate for his email to come through before Jack could steal his moment of glory, willing the page to refresh.

‘Ah, right,’ Jack said finally. ‘Mike Withey is the son of Audrey Withey and the brother of Shirley Miller, the model shot dead during a diamond raid in ’84. That raid was planned and carried out by Harry Rawlins, husband of Dolly Rawlins, who bought The Grange back in ’95.’

Ridley rocked back in his black leather ergonomic chair and rubbed his eyes. Jack and Anik, both with mobiles in hand, looked at each other. Then at Laura. They all waited for Ridley to finish thinking whatever he was thinking.

‘If our murder victim is Mike Withey,’ Ridley said after some consideration, ‘we need to tread very carefully indeed. Anik, seeing as this is your information, I want you to come with me to see Susan Withey. We need a DNA sample for comparison.’

‘Wouldn’t Mike’s DNA already be on file for elimination purposes?’ Anik asked.

Ridley thought his question was logical, even if it was naïve.

‘Not if he left before 2006, because it wasn’t mandatory till then. Jack and Laura, while Anik’s waiting for Susan Withey’s home address to come through from his friend at Paddington Green, I’m going to request permission to see Mike Withey’s service file. Once I’ve got that, I want you two, and only you two, to go through it with a fine-toothed comb. Until we get a positive ID on the body, Mike Withey is just a person of interest . . . but let’s find out a bit more about him. Tread carefully.’

Anik’s mobile pinged.

‘I’ve got an address for Susan Withey, and one for Audrey Withey.’

Ridley picked up his desk phone. ‘Anik, you’ll lead when we arrive at Susan’s home. Go and prep how you’re going to handle it and you can run it by me in the car.’

Anik couldn’t believe it. He was going to lead the interview of a case-breaking individual, in the company of his DCI. He almost ran from Ridley’s office, completely forgetting to say ‘Thank you’ or ‘Yes, sir’ or anything at all.

‘I’ll find a private room to view the file, sir,’ Laura reassured him as she closed Ridley’s door behind them.

Jack and Laura sniggered as they followed Anik out.

Ridley pressed the top button on his phone and waited for no more than five seconds before it was answered.

‘Ma’am, I need you to authorise the release of an officer’s service file.’

*

Ridley leant forward in the driver’s seat of his BMW and peered through the windscreen. Susan Withey’s house was set back from the road at the end of a gated driveway. The gate was open and a white Smart car was tucked almost out of sight under a tree. Anik sat in the passenger’s seat, using twice as many words as he needed to.

‘. . . if they’re estranged, I’ll ask her for Mike’s current address. I’ll also ask if Mike has any children and if we can get a sample of their DNA to check against the cremated rem—’ Anik checked himself. ‘I won’t refer to the body as cremated remains, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Ridley murmured.

‘If there are no kids, then we’d need DNA from an object such as a hairbrush, or an old hat maybe.’

‘See how much their house was bought for,’ Ridley instructed.

The house was in the middle of a long, tree-lined street in Weybridge. Ridley guessed that the purchase price would have been around the £2 million mark and wondered how the hell an ex-copper could have afforded it – unless Susan Withey