‘OK,’ Grace said. ‘Do you have any of those things in your home, Norman?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Exactly. What you do probably have is a duvet. Right?’
‘Yes,’ he replied hesitantly.
‘Duvet covers or curtains are the favoured items for a person who murders their partner to wrap the body in. They don’t like to see their dead lover’s face looking at them.’
Kevin Hall chipped in. ‘You’ve got to remember, boss, Norman’s a farmer’s son — he’s used to sleeping on straw.’
Grace grinned, then said, ‘Chris, look at the beds for any missing duvets, and the closets and airing cupboard for anything like a pillowslip with no duvet cover — they tend to come in sets. And check the curtains.’
Gee nodded.
‘Jack, can you contact the duty Inspector to set in motion a rota of scene guards?’
‘I have that on my list,’ replied Alexander, who was noting down all the actions.
‘Good stuff.’ Grace went on, turning back to Gee. ‘I noticed when DI Branson and I interviewed Paternoster that he was wearing an Apple Watch and a Fitbit. Arrange for those to be taken off him and sent to Digital Forensics when he’s booked in to the custody block.’
‘Absolutely, sir.’
Turning to DC Soper, he said, ‘As I requested, Louise, seize the BMW and have Collision Investigations examine its satnav and computer, and collate that with what the ANPRs show — they should reveal where it has been during the past two weeks. We may be looking for possible deposition sites for Eden’s body.’
‘Will do, boss.’
He turned to Emily Denyer. ‘I need you to find out everything about the couple’s finances. Any insurance policies on her life, anything that might indicate her husband having something to gain from her death.’
Then he briefed his Outside Enquiry Teams. ‘Go and talk to all the Paternosters’ immediate neighbours. See what they know about the couple — and, crucially, when any of them might have seen Eden. Maybe some of them had security cameras outside their houses. We need to establish the last confirmed sighting of her. We also need to check the CCTV in and around the stores at the Holmbush Centre. With the new information we have received regarding their phones, I want checks to be made at Parham House for both last Saturday and yesterday to see if there is any record of the Paternosters being there on either or both days. They are closed now but it needs to be done first thing in the morning.’
They all nodded.
He then dealt with the intelligence requirement, including database checks, family history and social networking activity, and asked DS Stratford to draw up the strategy, before turning to DS Alexander.
‘Jack, also get the team, when checking Parham House for both weekends, to look for any evidence they may have such as CCTV, ticket registration, visitor books, credit card receipts — see what that throws up.’
He finally addressed Stanstead again. ‘Luke, collate what the Intelligence Cell finds on both Niall Paternoster and Eden — any past criminal activity by either of them and as much background as you can get.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Grace made some notes, then looked up. ‘Any questions?’
Norman Potting raised a hand. ‘Chief, one thing we haven’t covered is the possibility of Eden Paternoster having an affair.’
‘Good point, Norman,’ Grace said. And nearly added, Especially coming from a man with your track record. ‘If that is the case, hopefully we’ll learn something from the interviews with her family and friends from our Outside Enquiry Teams.’ He looked around. ‘Any more questions?’
There were none.
‘OK, I will attend for the arrest. We’ll all meet back here at 8.30 a.m. tomorrow for reports on initial findings. Good luck, everyone.’
As the team filed out, several of them making space for Luke Stanstead to propel his wheelchair, Grace made further entries in his Policy Book. Then he checked his phone. There was a text from Cassian Pewe.
My office. 9 a.m. tomorrow.
He hesitated before replying. Just a small — tiny — victory that he knew would piss the ACC off even more.
No can do. Have to drop my son at school then have a briefing, after which I need to watch interview of murder suspect of Eden Paternoster. Might be able to make later.
To Grace’s slight disappointment, Cassian Pewe didn’t rise to the bait. Almost instantly, the ACC texted back a lame,
Understood. Let me know when you are free.
He didn’t bother to reply, turning his focus to the evening ahead. An arrest and a raid. He hated to admit Pewe was right in what he had said about homicide investigators liking nothing more than a Gucci murder case. This sure felt like one, and he was on fire.
26
Nevill Road had a suburban feel about it, Roy Grace always thought, slightly marred by it being a main thoroughfare in and out of the city. There were a few blocks of low-rise flats and a large school, but most of the houses were attractive, red-brick semis. The kind of affluent, middle-class neighbourhood where it was hard to believe anything bad could happen.
On this fine, late-summer evening, there was the smell of back-garden barbecues in the air. The tantalizing aroma came through the car’s open windows. They were parked several houses back from the Paternosters’ and Grace thought ruefully that he would have loved to be home right now, firing up their barbecue and enjoying an outdoors meal with Cleo and the family.
Glenn Branson gave an exaggerated sniff and nodded approvingly. ‘It’s making me hungry, boss,’ he said.
‘Everything makes you hungry!’ Grace grinned.
‘Yeah, well, I’m a growing lad!’ he said.
Grace reached across and patted the DI’s belly. ‘You sure are.’
‘Yeah, yeah. It’s actually my six-pack. You’re lucky to share your life with someone who cares about nutrition.’
‘Cleo’s actually made me care about it more, too, but I admit I still love the occasional steak even though we eat mostly veggie or fish.’
‘And bangers? And lamb chops?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You need to be careful with fish — all that mercury.’
‘Seems to me it doesn’t matter what you eat, vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian or carnivore, you’re going to ingest chemicals that are crap for you,’ Grace said.
‘I wouldn’t worry about it, you’re long gone.’
‘Thanks, buddy.’
They watched in their mirrors as a white van pulled up behind them. On their radio they heard the voice of Inspector Julia Ford. ‘Public Order Team in situ, sir.’
‘Roger that, Public Order Team,’ Grace responded.
The heavies, in their body armour and visors, looking like Stormtroopers, were now here and ready if Niall Paternoster put up any resistance. But Grace doubted he would.
The rest of his team was in place in unmarked vehicles, parked up ahead of them, a short distance beyond the Paternosters’ house.
Adrenaline coursed through him. Raids like this were a big high. This was one of the reasons he’d never gone for further promotion — and he was already at a higher grade than an officer attending an operation like this should strictly be. But he didn’t care. The chance to seize a villain red-handed was the ultimate buzz for him — and always would be.
He radioed Barbara Onoufriou, confirming that she was ready with her Search Team the moment Potting and Exton came out with Niall Paternoster. And confirmed with Chris Gee that he was ready to take command of the property as Crime Scene Manager.
Next he called up Potting on his radio. ‘Ready, Norman?’