Dead Man's Grip

‘I had the Specialist Search Unit take a look down all the gutters and they found a bit I was missing. Unless there’s anything else we haven’t found, and I don’t think there is, there’s a clean break on the arm, which means it’s probable the actual mountings for the mirror unit on the van are still intact. Replacing it would be a simple task of buying – or stealing – a replacement wing mirror unit. It could be fitted by anyone in a few minutes with basic tools.’
    Grace made a note, thinking that most, if not all, spare parts depots would have been closed yesterday, on a Sunday, then looked up at Norman Potting, who he could always rely on to be thorough. Nick Nicholl was a grafter, too.
    ‘Norman and Nick, I’m tasking you to cover all places where you could obtain a new or second-hand wing mirror for this vehicle. Ford dealers, parts depots, accessories shops like Halfords, breakers’ yards – and check to see if there have been any reports of wing mirror thefts off similar vans in the Brighton and Hove area. If you need extra manpower let me know. I want every possibility covered by this evening’s briefing, if possible.’
    Nicholl nodded like an eager puppy. Potting made a note, his face screwed up in concentration.
    ‘What about eBay? That could be a likely port of call to replace something like this.’
    ‘Good point, Norman. Give that to Ray Packham in the High-Tech Crime Unit. He’ll know the most effective way to search it.’
    Then he returned to his list. ‘OK, the last agenda item is Ford Prison. Glenn and Bella, I want you to go there and see what you can get out of any of the inmates who knew Preece or Warren Tulley.
I spoke to Lisa Setterington, the officer there who was in charge of Preece, and she’s lining them up for you. And she’s been working with our Prison Liaison Officer. I think your strategy should be to focus on Preece as someone who’s gone missing, rather than as a suspect in the hit-and-run, and don’t even refer to Tulley. Setterington’s an experienced officer. She’ll deliver all Preece’s associates inside Ford to you. If any of them open up, emphasize the reward ticket. And put the frighteners on them – tell them Preece is going to be shopped by someone, so it might as well be them.’
    ‘Do we have a post-mortem report on Tulley yet, chief?’ asked Nick Nicholl.
    ‘I’m waiting for it,’ Grace replied. Then he looked back at his notes. ‘Preece is a good suspect. All of you speak to any informants you know. Put the word out on the street that we’re looking for him – and about the reward. Not everyone reads the papers or listens to the news.’
    DC Boutwood raised a hand. ‘Chief, I’ve spoken with an undercover member of Operation Reduction who’s running a number of informants. He’s asked around for me, but none of Preece’s regular contacts have heard from him in the past week.’
    I don’t think I’d talk to my regular contacts with a $100K price tag on my head either, Grace thought, but what he actually said was, ‘He’s obviously keeping his head down, E-J. But he’ll surface somewhere.’
    Had he possessed a crystal ball, he might have used a different turn of phrase.

43
    When the meeting ended Grace asked Glenn Branson to come and see him in his office in ten minutes’ time. Then, as he walked alone along the corridor, he rang Cleo. Despite the consultant’s instructions for her to rest, she had insisted on going back to work today, although she had promised Roy she would not do any heavy lifting.
    She sounded fine but was too busy to speak for more than a moment. Lots of people died at weekends, falling off ladders doing DIY, born-again bikers going out for fast rides, men pegging out during their solitary bonk of the week and the lonely who found the weekends too much to bear. Her enthusiasm for her grim work never ceased to amaze him. But by the same token, she frequently said the same of him.
    He made himself a coffee in the space the size of a small closet, with a kettle, worktop, sink and fridge, that was Sussex House’s apology for a canteen and carried it through to his office. He had barely sat down when Glenn entered.
    ‘Yo, old-timer. What’s popping?’
    Grace grinned at his use of that word. He’d recently circulated to Sussex CID a DVD he’d been sent by a senior detective in Los Angeles, whom he had met last year at the International Homicide Investigators Association annual symposium. It was