open on the floor beside her, the mobile phone peeking out of its tiny pocket. For a moment she blinked, her mind trying to focus on what she was seeing, what it meant.
Hands trembling, she reached down and took the phone out of her bag, swiftly removing the SIM card. They would try to call her, wouldn’t they? But whatever number Tracey-Anne had stored on her mobile would soon be impossible to reach.
CHAPTER 12
‘I want as much of our resources put to this case as possible,’ Lorimer said, eyeing the group of officers assembled in the room. It was not the assembly he had anticipated: some of them had been seconded from DCI James’s team, others were his new colleagues from Serious Crimes. Becoming acquainted with this latter group would either have to wait now or happen on the job.
‘Professor Brightman may not be known to many of you,’ he continued, one hand raised to acknowledge the bearded man standing slightly to one side. ‘But let me assure you he has been of great use to Strathclyde in many cases of multiple murder.’
There was a murmur at that, some of which Lorimer hoped was approval.
‘Tracey-Anne Geddes’s murder may well turn out to be the work of the same person who killed these other girls.’ He turned to the huge screen behind him and pressed the switch that made the faces of Carol Kilpatrick, Miriam Lyons and Jenny Haslet appear.
‘You’ll notice I have kept the images of Tracey-Anne separate from the others. Maybe you’ll be thinking is he hedging his bets?’ The laugh that followed made Lorimer relax a little.
‘Well, perhaps I am,’ he continued. ‘Nobody should ever be guilty of making assumptions at the beginning of a case and I can assure you that DCI James did not fall into this trap and neither will I.’ He paused to let his words sink in. This was something that every officer knew fine but it was all too easy to let initial intelligence gull even the best cop into haring off down one particular route. He didn’t want to insult his audience by spelling it out, though. These were all hand-picked officers who had great track records in helping solve crimes of a serious nature.
‘We are fortunate to have some of DCI James’s team here with us for the duration of this investigation. Manpower within the force has never been more severely challenged and I am accordingly grateful that they have agreed to work with us on this.’
Lorimer paused again. Was this the time to drop the bombshell? Hints that Serious Crimes was going to enjoy a limited shelf life had been going on for years; part of his own hesitation in accepting the post had revolved around that fact. But budgetary cuts were going to be made in the coming weeks by the Scottish Executive and rumours included the mothballing of this very sector of Strathclyde Police or, at best, the reorganising of it out of existence. Joyce Rogers wanted him here for now, heading up the team, but it would only be a matter of time, she had explained, till he was moved on again. No, he decided. He was the man in charge of this unit and, as far as anyone was concerned, in charge of this ongoing series of cases. He would just have to hope that they could find Tracey-Anne’s killer before any police politics took him off the case.
‘One of the things that I want to insist upon in this case is the way we treat any potential witnesses,’ Lorimer said. ‘I believe it is hugely important to call back any witnesses who come forward. They need the reassurance that their information is important to us. And we need them to be on our side at all times.’
A good few nodding heads showed that they were on his wavelength.
‘It’s inevitable that as overall SIO I will be at the mercy of our friends from the press each and every day.’ He smiled as he heard the collective groan.
‘You know what they all say,’ he continued ruefully. ‘You’ve got to feed the bear or it’ll bite you.’
It was true. The press could be helpful or frustrating in equal measure in their headlong rush to sell stories.
‘Instilling public confidence is always one of our top priorities,’ Lorimer went on. ‘And I want people to feel that they can walk about our streets without fear.’ He turned again to the wall behind him. This time the visual of