Case Histories
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Now this is quite an unusual one. The crime scene we've been called to is in Wimbledon – 4 Endsleigh Drive. The victims are Vita and Laura Kenford, a mother and daughter who've been killed in their sitting room. Laura, the daughter, has had her throat cut. The father, Philip Kenford, is a QC, who was also attacked and knocked unconscious in his bedroom. The only person who's remained unharmed is Laura's twin sister, Lydia. She and her father seemed to have been outside by the swimming pool at the time of the murder, and haven't heard a thing.
It's a cul-de-sac of six houses, all worth a fortune, with gates and high hedges, and the Kenfords had an alarm system, but there's no evidence of a break in.
Godley and Derwent have come across Kenford in previous cases – they think he's unscrupulous. And Godley thinks he's a massive liar. There's certainly a lot that he seems to be unwilling to tell us, given his daughter and his wife have both just been brutally slaughtered in his own home...
The Last Girl
Now this is quite an unusual one. The crime scene we've been called to is in Wimbledon – 4 Endsleigh Drive. The victims are Vita and Laura Kenford, a mother and daughter who've been killed in their sitting room. Laura, the daughter, has had her throat cut. The father, Philip Kenford, is a QC, who was also attacked and knocked unconscious in his bedroom. The only person who's remained unharmed is Laura's twin sister, Lydia. She and her father seemed to have been outside by the swimming pool at the time of the murder, and haven't heard a thing.It's a cul-de-sac of six houses, all worth a fortune, with gates and high hedges, and the Kenfords had an alarm system, but there's no evidence of a break in.
Godley and Derwent have come across Kenford in previous cases – they think he's unscrupulous. And Godley thinks he's a massive liar. There's certainly a lot that he seems to be unwilling to tell us, given his daughter and his wife have both just been brutally slaughtered in his own home...
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Being on a murder squad, it's not as though any of my cases are nice, but this one's particularly bad. So far, there are two victims within a mile of each other in the south London area in the last 24 hours – both men who've been brutally tortured, mutilated and killed. I have to find out what they had in common, as we're pretty sure it's the same person who committed both murders, and why they wanted them dead. Because they've got injuries consistent with being interrogated – their autopsy reports read like an Amnesty International briefing document on torture...
He'd been brutally tortured, mutilated and killed and his computer equipment had been comprehensively destroyed.
Both had criminal records, and there's no shortage of people who might want to see them dead. I've got a feeling they're not going to be the last victims of this particular killer, but what's their connection to a missing 14 year-old girl from Hertfordshire?
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The Reckoning
Being on a murder squad, it's not as though any of my cases are nice, but this one's particularly bad. So far, there are two victims within a mile of each other in the south London area in the last 24 hours – both men who've been brutally tortured, mutilated and killed. I have to find out what they had in common, as we're pretty sure it's the same person who committed both murders, and why they wanted them dead. Because they've got injuries consistent with being interrogated – their autopsy reports read like an Amnesty International briefing document on torture...Victim 1 – Ivan Tremlett
He was a self-employed software designer, who lived in Clapham, just off the Common, with his wife and two sons. His body was found in his office space in Sidley Street, Brixton. His wife (Claudia Tremlett) became concerned when he failed to return home by 6pm, as he always followed the same routine.He'd been brutally tortured, mutilated and killed and his computer equipment had been comprehensively destroyed.
Victim 1 – Barry Palmer
He was unemployed, 43 years old, and lived alone in a two-bedroomed house. His sister had become concerned after not having heard from him, and gone round to his house, let herself in and found him. Also brutally tortured, mutilated and killed.Both had criminal records, and there's no shortage of people who might want to see them dead. I've got a feeling they're not going to be the last victims of this particular killer, but what's their connection to a missing 14 year-old girl from Hertfordshire?
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The newspapers have christened him 'The Burning Man'. We need to catch him, and soon. But the fact that we're on our way to see another body proves that we aren't even close. And who he is – why he even does it in the first place – is as much a mystery now as it was four victims ago.
The women have been battered beyond all recognition before they're set alight. The pathologist has said he paralyses them with a stun gun first, and then ties his victims' hands in a distinctive way: palms outward, thumb to thumb in front of their chests, using generic gardening twine that cuts into their flesh. He's clearly taking no chances that they might fight back...
Superintendent Godley hates the fact that the media have given our killer a nickname. It turns him into a celebrity, it grants him notoriety, it's let him join the select club of killers whose crimes have passed into infamy. It was what the killer wanted. And that's highly dangerous.
But Godley also thinks that so far, he's just been very lucky. If we knew how he was getting the women to trust him, we'd have arrested him by now. But that's the only remarkable thing about him, in Godley's view – he's adamant we aren't hunting some master criminal. There are sixty officers investigating this case – but is the fifth body we've found really the work of the Burning Man? I'm not so sure...
So far, this is what we know:
Age: 27
Killed: early hours of Friday, 18th September
Body found: South-west corner of Larkhall Park, less than half a mile from her home in Clapham
Appearance: Blue eyes, long brown hair and wearing heels and a very short skirt
She'd been on a friend's hen night, and caught the night bus home. Her stop should have been a ten minute walk to where she was living, as a nanny for a couple called the Copes.
Beaten to death with a blunt instrument – likely to be a hammer. Then set alight.
Victim 2: Alice Fallon
Age: 19
Killed: Saturday 10th October
Body found: Recreation ground in Vauxhall, not far from New Covent Garden market
Alice was a student living in Battersea, killed between eleven and midnight, walking back from a night out in Vauxhall.
Victim 3: Victoria Muller, a care assistant
Age: 26
Killed: 30th October
She finished work at 4am and accepted a lift home from a colleague, who dropped her off in Stockwell. Her body was found in a small overgrown park in front of a condemned apartment block.
The killer took two silver rings that Victoria had made herself.
Victim 4: Charity Beddoes
Age: ?
Killed: 20th November
Body found: Body dumped in Mostyn Gardens, between Kennington and Brixton. Left a house party in Kennington after a row with her boyfriend.
She was a student at LSE, and lived in Brixton.
Victim 5: Rebecca Haworth
Age: 28
Killed: 26th November
Body found: Body found Stadhampton Grove – part of an industrial estate behind the Oval cricket ground.
But I think the MO doesn't seem to fit exactly with the others – her face hasn't been touched. I'm suspicious that the level of violence has diminished when all the other murders suggested that the killer was escalating. The more I investigate it, the less it rings true...
I'm suspicious of Rebecca's ex, Gil Maddick – Rebecca seemed to have been obsessed with him; was he abusive to her? My gut feeling is there's something off about him – all her friends say that he was very possessive.
And what's the story behind Rebecca having left her job, but not telling anyone about it? What was she hiding?
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The Burning
Four women dead and no leads
And now there's another body. Another young woman. He's done it again...The newspapers have christened him 'The Burning Man'. We need to catch him, and soon. But the fact that we're on our way to see another body proves that we aren't even close. And who he is – why he even does it in the first place – is as much a mystery now as it was four victims ago.
The women have been battered beyond all recognition before they're set alight. The pathologist has said he paralyses them with a stun gun first, and then ties his victims' hands in a distinctive way: palms outward, thumb to thumb in front of their chests, using generic gardening twine that cuts into their flesh. He's clearly taking no chances that they might fight back...
Superintendent Godley hates the fact that the media have given our killer a nickname. It turns him into a celebrity, it grants him notoriety, it's let him join the select club of killers whose crimes have passed into infamy. It was what the killer wanted. And that's highly dangerous.
But Godley also thinks that so far, he's just been very lucky. If we knew how he was getting the women to trust him, we'd have arrested him by now. But that's the only remarkable thing about him, in Godley's view – he's adamant we aren't hunting some master criminal. There are sixty officers investigating this case – but is the fifth body we've found really the work of the Burning Man? I'm not so sure...
So far, this is what we know:
The Burning Man is active on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights
Locations and Victim Profiles:
Victim 1: Nicola FieldingAge: 27
Killed: early hours of Friday, 18th September
Body found: South-west corner of Larkhall Park, less than half a mile from her home in Clapham
Appearance: Blue eyes, long brown hair and wearing heels and a very short skirt
She'd been on a friend's hen night, and caught the night bus home. Her stop should have been a ten minute walk to where she was living, as a nanny for a couple called the Copes.
Beaten to death with a blunt instrument – likely to be a hammer. Then set alight.
Victim 2: Alice Fallon
Age: 19
Killed: Saturday 10th October
Body found: Recreation ground in Vauxhall, not far from New Covent Garden market
Alice was a student living in Battersea, killed between eleven and midnight, walking back from a night out in Vauxhall.
Victim 3: Victoria Muller, a care assistant
Age: 26
Killed: 30th October
She finished work at 4am and accepted a lift home from a colleague, who dropped her off in Stockwell. Her body was found in a small overgrown park in front of a condemned apartment block.
The killer took two silver rings that Victoria had made herself.
Victim 4: Charity Beddoes
Age: ?
Killed: 20th November
Body found: Body dumped in Mostyn Gardens, between Kennington and Brixton. Left a house party in Kennington after a row with her boyfriend.
She was a student at LSE, and lived in Brixton.
Victim 5: Rebecca Haworth
Age: 28
Killed: 26th November
Body found: Body found Stadhampton Grove – part of an industrial estate behind the Oval cricket ground.
But I think the MO doesn't seem to fit exactly with the others – her face hasn't been touched. I'm suspicious that the level of violence has diminished when all the other murders suggested that the killer was escalating. The more I investigate it, the less it rings true...
I'm suspicious of Rebecca's ex, Gil Maddick – Rebecca seemed to have been obsessed with him; was he abusive to her? My gut feeling is there's something off about him – all her friends say that he was very possessive.
And what's the story behind Rebecca having left her job, but not telling anyone about it? What was she hiding?
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Jane Casey
Back to Jane Casey
I couldn't be sick.
The lift lurched to a halt and a couple of people got out, leaving me alone. I closed my eyes, swallowed, and wished it was the end of the day, not the start. It was first-day nerves and they would go, I told myself, once I'd got used to my new colleagues and the work on a murder squad, a team I couldn't believe I'd been asked to join.
I might even start to feel as if I deserved to be there.
The lift doors opened: third floor, and my stop. I glanced in the mirror on the way out: my hair was out of control and I was pale. It was nothing I could do anything about at that moment, not with a heavy cardboard box to carry. A cardboard box that I almost dropped as I shouldered the door open and stepped into the office.
A vastly overweight, elderly detective with a purple-toned complexion leaned back in his chair. ‘Steady on, love. Need a hand? Who is that lot for?'
‘It's mine. I can manage.' I scanned the room, not seeing any familiar faces or empty desks. ‘I'm Maeve Kerrigan. I'm joining the team.'
‘Are you indeed?' His forehead folded itself into a hundred wrinkles. ‘They said someone was coming up from Borough. They didn't say what you were like.'
‘And what's that?' I asked icily.
‘Young and lovely.' He beamed. ‘No offence, darling.'
‘None taken,' I lied. There was no point in complaining about it. He meant well. I assumed.
He put out a hand. ‘Sam Prosser.'
I hefted the box, trying to free a hand, and he shook his head.
‘Sorry. You need a desk, don't you?'
‘That would help.'
‘There's one free over there.' He pointed.
I thanked him and hauled my box over to the desk. It was in the middle of the room, and I felt highly exposed as I started to unpack. Most of the eyes on me were friendly. Some were openly hostile. All were male. I'd known I was going to be the only woman on the team, but I hadn't realised how that was going to feel.
‘Ah, Maeve. You're here.' Superintendent Godley stopped beside me, coffee in hand. ‘We'll have an office meeting in five minutes. I'll introduce you to everyone.'
‘Great,' I said, flustered, and watched him disappear into his office. I wished I'd told him not to bother. I wanted to blend in, not stand out.
I came back to my desk after the meeting with my head spinning from all I'd tried to take in about the cases that were current in the department. I was still blushing from Godley's welcome speech. He'd been far too nice about me, and had gone on for too long. My desk was empty apart from a cardboard folder. My first case. I picked it up and started to leaf through the contents, feeling the glow of excitement dim and fade away altogether after the first few images. Women. Dead women. Or rather, parts of them – close-ups of violation and degradation and torture. They were crime-scene and autopsy pictures, from countless different cases, and as a collection they were offensive beyond belief.
I flipped through to the end, not hurrying, hoping that my face didn't betray what I was feeling. Just before I got to the last page I glanced up, and caught a couple of men watching me from the other side of the room. One was lanky and balding, though he wasn't much older than me. He had been grinning like a chimp but he ducked his head and turned away when he realised he'd been spotted. The short, fat detective beside him kept staring, though, as if he was challenging me to react. I'd noticed him glowering at me in the briefing room. And he'd been standing near the door. I closed the folder and walked across the office to where he sat.
‘I think you left your folder on my desk.'
His eyes travelled up and down my body. ‘Not me.'
‘I think it was.' I opened the folder again, and found a picture of a torso that had been recovered from water. ‘That one's nice. Is that your favourite?'
He shrugged. ‘Does it bother you?'
‘Not as much as you'd hoped it would.' I tilted the folder so the contents slid out and scattered all over the floor. ‘Silly me.'
He dropped to his knees and began to rake them together, swearing under his breath. They had gone a long way, sliding on the thin brown carpet, as far as the door to Godley's office, which explained his panic. His colleagues – my colleagues – turned to watch as he crawled around gathering them up. A broad, gravel-voiced detective grinned.
‘Dropped your wank book, have you, Belcott?'
Belcott glared.
I leaned down so only he could hear me. ‘That was funny. Next time, don't bother. I'm not going to have hysterics over a few pictures.'
‘How does it feel to be making up the numbers? You're only here so Godley can tick that box on the equality survey.'
‘Wrong. I'm here to do my job. Get used to it or get stuffed.'
I turned and stalked away before he could answer, leaving him grovelling on the floor. I was shaking from suppressed tension, hurt and anger, emotion that was threatening to come out in tears. I couldn't allow him the satisfaction. I went straight past my desk and out through the double-doors to the corridor, where I collided with a tall, dark man in a suit.
‘Easy, tiger.'
‘Sorry.' I was acutely conscious of the tears in my eyes. I cleared my throat. ‘Going too fast for my own good.'
‘Where are you going?'
‘I was looking for the kitchen.'
He grinned. ‘That is a reason to hurry. It's definitely time for a cuppa. Come on, I'll show you.'
I followed him down the corridor, feeling the ache in my throat lessen. I appreciated his tact since he couldn't have missed how upset I had been. By the time we reached the kitchen, I was approaching normal.
‘I'm Maeve Kerrigan.'
‘I know. I was in the briefing.' He filled the kettle. ‘Rob Langton. Welcome to the team.'
‘Thanks.'
Without looking at me, he said, ‘You'll be all right, you know. They'll get used to having a woman around eventually. The novelty will wear off. Even Belcott will come to terms with it soon.'
‘Can't happen soon enough for me.'
‘I bet. So where were you before?'
Normal conversation. Thank God.
Rob made tea, we talked about work things and by the time I got back to my desk I was prepared to accept that not all of my new team were hateful chauvinist pricks. Feeling more like I could cope, I put the mug beside my keyboard and sat down. I was still aware of being watched, but I was getting used to it. Before I could even switch my computer on the door to Godley's office opened. He came straight across to my desk.
‘I've got a job for you, Maeve. Get your stuff together and let's go.'
So I went.
And that was the start of everything.
Back to Jane Casey
The First Day
I was going to be sick.I couldn't be sick.
The lift lurched to a halt and a couple of people got out, leaving me alone. I closed my eyes, swallowed, and wished it was the end of the day, not the start. It was first-day nerves and they would go, I told myself, once I'd got used to my new colleagues and the work on a murder squad, a team I couldn't believe I'd been asked to join.
I might even start to feel as if I deserved to be there.
The lift doors opened: third floor, and my stop. I glanced in the mirror on the way out: my hair was out of control and I was pale. It was nothing I could do anything about at that moment, not with a heavy cardboard box to carry. A cardboard box that I almost dropped as I shouldered the door open and stepped into the office.
A vastly overweight, elderly detective with a purple-toned complexion leaned back in his chair. ‘Steady on, love. Need a hand? Who is that lot for?'
‘It's mine. I can manage.' I scanned the room, not seeing any familiar faces or empty desks. ‘I'm Maeve Kerrigan. I'm joining the team.'
‘Are you indeed?' His forehead folded itself into a hundred wrinkles. ‘They said someone was coming up from Borough. They didn't say what you were like.'
‘And what's that?' I asked icily.
‘Young and lovely.' He beamed. ‘No offence, darling.'
‘None taken,' I lied. There was no point in complaining about it. He meant well. I assumed.
He put out a hand. ‘Sam Prosser.'
I hefted the box, trying to free a hand, and he shook his head.
‘Sorry. You need a desk, don't you?'
‘That would help.'
‘There's one free over there.' He pointed.
I thanked him and hauled my box over to the desk. It was in the middle of the room, and I felt highly exposed as I started to unpack. Most of the eyes on me were friendly. Some were openly hostile. All were male. I'd known I was going to be the only woman on the team, but I hadn't realised how that was going to feel.
‘Ah, Maeve. You're here.' Superintendent Godley stopped beside me, coffee in hand. ‘We'll have an office meeting in five minutes. I'll introduce you to everyone.'
‘Great,' I said, flustered, and watched him disappear into his office. I wished I'd told him not to bother. I wanted to blend in, not stand out.
I came back to my desk after the meeting with my head spinning from all I'd tried to take in about the cases that were current in the department. I was still blushing from Godley's welcome speech. He'd been far too nice about me, and had gone on for too long. My desk was empty apart from a cardboard folder. My first case. I picked it up and started to leaf through the contents, feeling the glow of excitement dim and fade away altogether after the first few images. Women. Dead women. Or rather, parts of them – close-ups of violation and degradation and torture. They were crime-scene and autopsy pictures, from countless different cases, and as a collection they were offensive beyond belief.
I flipped through to the end, not hurrying, hoping that my face didn't betray what I was feeling. Just before I got to the last page I glanced up, and caught a couple of men watching me from the other side of the room. One was lanky and balding, though he wasn't much older than me. He had been grinning like a chimp but he ducked his head and turned away when he realised he'd been spotted. The short, fat detective beside him kept staring, though, as if he was challenging me to react. I'd noticed him glowering at me in the briefing room. And he'd been standing near the door. I closed the folder and walked across the office to where he sat.
‘I think you left your folder on my desk.'
His eyes travelled up and down my body. ‘Not me.'
‘I think it was.' I opened the folder again, and found a picture of a torso that had been recovered from water. ‘That one's nice. Is that your favourite?'
He shrugged. ‘Does it bother you?'
‘Not as much as you'd hoped it would.' I tilted the folder so the contents slid out and scattered all over the floor. ‘Silly me.'
He dropped to his knees and began to rake them together, swearing under his breath. They had gone a long way, sliding on the thin brown carpet, as far as the door to Godley's office, which explained his panic. His colleagues – my colleagues – turned to watch as he crawled around gathering them up. A broad, gravel-voiced detective grinned.
‘Dropped your wank book, have you, Belcott?'
Belcott glared.
I leaned down so only he could hear me. ‘That was funny. Next time, don't bother. I'm not going to have hysterics over a few pictures.'
‘How does it feel to be making up the numbers? You're only here so Godley can tick that box on the equality survey.'
‘Wrong. I'm here to do my job. Get used to it or get stuffed.'
I turned and stalked away before he could answer, leaving him grovelling on the floor. I was shaking from suppressed tension, hurt and anger, emotion that was threatening to come out in tears. I couldn't allow him the satisfaction. I went straight past my desk and out through the double-doors to the corridor, where I collided with a tall, dark man in a suit.
‘Easy, tiger.'
‘Sorry.' I was acutely conscious of the tears in my eyes. I cleared my throat. ‘Going too fast for my own good.'
‘Where are you going?'
‘I was looking for the kitchen.'
He grinned. ‘That is a reason to hurry. It's definitely time for a cuppa. Come on, I'll show you.'
I followed him down the corridor, feeling the ache in my throat lessen. I appreciated his tact since he couldn't have missed how upset I had been. By the time we reached the kitchen, I was approaching normal.
‘I'm Maeve Kerrigan.'
‘I know. I was in the briefing.' He filled the kettle. ‘Rob Langton. Welcome to the team.'
‘Thanks.'
Without looking at me, he said, ‘You'll be all right, you know. They'll get used to having a woman around eventually. The novelty will wear off. Even Belcott will come to terms with it soon.'
‘Can't happen soon enough for me.'
‘I bet. So where were you before?'
Normal conversation. Thank God.
Rob made tea, we talked about work things and by the time I got back to my desk I was prepared to accept that not all of my new team were hateful chauvinist pricks. Feeling more like I could cope, I put the mug beside my keyboard and sat down. I was still aware of being watched, but I was getting used to it. Before I could even switch my computer on the door to Godley's office opened. He came straight across to my desk.
‘I've got a job for you, Maeve. Get your stuff together and let's go.'
So I went.
And that was the start of everything.
Back to Jane Casey
Married to a criminal barrister, Jane lives in south-west London.
Jane has also written a Young Adult novel, How To Fall.
Follow Jane on Twitter:
@JaneCaseyAuthor
The First Day
I was going to be sick.I couldn't be sick.
The lift lurched to a halt and a couple of people got out, leaving me alone. I closed my eyes, swallowed, and wished it was the end of the day, not the start. It was first-day nerves and they would go, I told myself, once I'd got used to my new colleagues and the work on a murder squad, a team I couldn't believe I'd been asked to join.
Read an exclusive Maeve Kerrigan short story
Personnel Assessment
Subject: Detective Constable Maeve Kerrigan Supervisor Interview – TranscriptInterview Subject: DI Josh Derwent
Interviewer: Mary Green
Time: 10.30am
Date: 2 April 2012
Interviewer's note: There were some issues with sound quality caused by the subject refusing to sit down and speak clearly. Where this occurred it is indicated in the transcript. I have chosen to edit instances of inappropriate language. It is otherwise a full record of the conversation.
MG: Could you state your name and rank, please?
JD: Detective Inspector Josh Derwent.
MG: And what is your role in relation to DC Maeve Kerrigan?
JD: I work with her.
MG: In what capacity?
JD: What do you mean, 'in what capacity?' I'm her boss. We investigate murders. Which is what I should be doing now.
MG: Please sit down. This won't take long.
JD: [inaudible]
MG: Can you sit down and speak up? This won't pick up what you're saying if you move around.
JD: Then you need a better recorder.
MG: Thank you for your advice.
JD: Is this going to take long?
MG: I just have a few questions.
JD: I ask questions for a living. I know what that means.
MG: What do you think it means?
JD: That I'm here for as long as you feel like keeping me here. [inaudible]
MG: What did you say?
JD: You don't want me to repeat it, believe me.
MG: Getting back to DC Kerrigan –
JD: Yeah, that's actually what I'd like to do before I grow old.
MG: Are you working on a case with her at the moment?
JD: Several. One in particular which is chafing my nuts.
MG: I'll just remind you a transcript of this interview is going into DC Kerrigan's permanent personnel file.
JD: Yeah, I know. I'll mind my manners.
MG: How would you describe DC Kerrigan?
JD: Female, IC1. Tall. I mean that – she's got legs that go on for miles. Good figure. I won't comment on her chest because it wouldn't be professional but – [The subject concluded this sentence by making a crude gesture]. Bit of a looker but she doesn't make the most of it, which I see as a mistake. Got to use what God gave you to catch baddies and a bit of the old come-hither never hurts. Where was I? Grey eyes. Curly hair. No scars, tattoos or markings that I'm aware of.
MG: I meant as a colleague. How would you describe her role?
JD: Purely decorative.
MG: Really?
JD: Of course not. She's got to pull her weight or she wouldn't be on the murder squad. Godley doesn't have room for anyone who isn't going to take it seriously. And neither do I.
MG: She works hard?
JD: All hours.
MG: Does she mind?
JD: She cares about getting a result. Too much, sometimes. She puts herself in harm's way without thinking about it.
MG: Are you referring to the incident where she was attacked and almost killed last year?
JD: That was before I joined the team. I wouldn't have let her within a million miles of that situation. I'd have told her to keep out of it.
MG: Does she follow your orders?
JD: Yeah, or she ends up on the naughty step. I just wish I could get away with spanking her. [pause] Actually, can you leave that last bit out?
MG: It's a transcript. I'm going to write down what you said.
JD: You're not a f—ing robot, woman. You can cut out a bit if you like.
MG: Moving on. There are references to discipline problems in DC Kerrigan's file – anger issues, disagreements with colleagues. Have you seen any behaviour that would give you concerns about her?
JD: She's got a temper but she keeps a lid on it when I'm around. Despite my best efforts.
MG: Remarkable self-control.
JD: Pardon me?
MG: What about her background?
JD: What about it? She's a Paddy.
MG: Her extended family in Ireland see themselves as nationalists. They believe in a united Ireland. Has she ever talked to you about that?
JD: If she did I wasn't listening.
MG: Does it ever cause you problems, given your own history in the Army? You served in Northern Ireland, didn't you?
JD: A long time ago. And no. No problems. She gets a bit of hassle now and then, but she's good at brushing it off.
MG: And sexist remarks?
JD: Those too. [Subject began to walk around the room] She's got to expect that kind of thing though. It comes with the territory.
MG: The territory?
JD: Investigating murders is hard work. It's a boys' club. She's an honorary member but she doesn't fit in.
MG: Why not?
JD: Because half the squad want to kill her and the other half want to shag her.
MG: Start with the ones who want to kill her. Why?
JD: She gets the big cases. And solves them, which hurts if you don't rate her. I take it the shagging bit is self-explanatory.
MG: Please move away. You're crowding me.
JD: Don't flatter yourself, love. Are you finished?
MG: Almost. [Shuffles papers] There was a reference here to a secret relationship with a colleague. Is that –
JD: Not me.
MG: I didn't think –
JD: Not that I wouldn't. Well, I wouldn't, but I've thought about it. Not thought about it. That's wrong. But I spend a lot of time with her. And she's all right. Is this going in the transcript?
MG: As I explained, everything you say will be in the transcript.
JD: F—.
MG: I was asking about an affair with a colleague.
JD: Look, what does it matter? You want to know if she's good at her job. Yes. Is she popular? Yeah, she is. Is she good to work with? Yes. Does she work too hard? Probably. Does she mind? I doubt it. She's not got the experience yet but she's getting there. What I'm saying is she's a bloody good copper. And that's what counts. What time is it? [Inaudible]
MG: I wasn't finished.
JD: I am. I've got work to do. Happy typing.
[Subject left the room]
MG: Interview ends.
Friends & Colleagues
DC Rob Langton
Rob's originally from Manchester – he's tall enough that I have to wear heels to look him in the eye and that's pretty rare. He's got Welsh forebears, hence his black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. I'm not sure whether the abundant charm he generally uses on women – to very good effect, I might add - is also down to them.Despite the fact he usually looks pretty scruffy, Rob's organised – he's always got a spare pen, like a proper boy scout, and he does his best to keep me on the straight and narrow. Mind you, he's not a saint. He drives as if he's just behind the lead car on the last lap of the Grand Prix – and is always giving me grief about the fact I can't park properly.
He's the kind of bloke that when someone's cocked something up, they get Rob to sort it out. He's that sort of officer – diplomatic when he needs to be, clever without needing to shout about it, tough enough when it's called for. And he's got the useful knack of walking away from disastrous situations with his reputation not only intact, but enhanced. I wish I had some of his skill and more of his luck.
I'd say our relationship is... complicated. Really, really complicated.
Derwent
DC Josh Derwent's been in the force for 15 years – prior to that, he was in the army (he joined up at 18). Which is probably where he studied so hard for all those charm exams. Honestly? He's my new boss, and he's the most trying man I've ever come across. I know Godley rates him (because he's told me so), but I'm failing to see why. He redefines the word 'blunt' and seems to spend his entire time trying to wind me up – whether it's with a bit of casual misogyny, being patronising or putting me down every time I try to voice an opinion. I wish I could ignore him but I can't help wanting to persuade to change his mind about me. Hell will freeze over before he'll admit he's underestimated me, though.He's average height but thick through the neck and shoulders, and muscled like a bulldog, mainly because he trains for marathons. You'd certainly think twice before getting into a fight with him.
He's got a reputation for being obsessively hard working and infinitely aggressive – although he listens to Magic FM for preference, which must mean he has a softer side. His other appealing qualities are impatience and sarcasm, being a total control freak and being belligerent. He does a lot of it to get a reaction.
He's given to saying things to me like, 'You don't have to say anything at all. Just stand back, look pretty, and let me do all the work.' He thinks I've got too much empathy, and I care too much – he really doesn't approve of that. But then he also says that he hates cases where you've got a witness who's obviously spinning a tale and no one challenges them on it. When he's not being a total dick, he likes to play fair, which is interesting. I had him down as the type to want to win at all costs. Godley reckons he's not easy to get to know, but he's decent. And he rarely makes a mistake about people – if Godley thinks he's worth having around, I'm going to have to find a way of making it work...
Godley
Godley, aka 'Superintendent God', used to work on the Central Task Force. He went grey early – his hair is almost white – but it doesn't make him look old: quite the opposite. The combination of his silver hair and blue eyes is a bit of a winner, plus he's also tall and broad-shouldered. To tell the truth, he's film-star handsome; he must be aware of the effect he has on people, but he seems to be utterly without vanity.For such a high-profile senior officer, he's not the sort to court attention either. His statements are businesslike, his press conferences orderly, and if he's got nothing to say, he says nothing.
Godley demands total dedication from his team, but would hate the idea of anyone worshiping him; he has no interest in commanding a cult following. He's quiet, discreet, with a sharp, focused intelligence. And he's a details man. He seems calm, but then I've seen him lose it, too – really dramatically. I think if push came to shove, he'd probably cross a line or two to get what he wanted.
Liv Bowen
Liv's the newest detective on our team, and the only other female. She's Rob's partner – I'm trying not to be jealous. She's really beautiful, with long hair and a dancer's body, and she seems to have a good sense of humour from the number of times I've seen her make Rob laugh. I haven't had a chance to get to know her yet. Okay, I haven't tried. She's come from an intelligence job in Special Branch and she's supposed to be one of the best DCs around. I don't envy her, though. If I'm struggling to be taken seriously, then I don't know how she's coping.As with any woman in the force, there are a lot of rumours about her social life. Goes with the territory, I suppose. I'm doing my best not to join in. We should really stick together, given that we're the only women on the team. And really, I could use a few more friends in this business.
Constable Maeve Kerrigan
I'm 28, I've been a copper for six years and I'm a DC (Detective Constable). Despite the fact I was born and brought up in England, everyone loves to give me flack for being Irish (can't get away from it with a name like mine). I've heard every possible Paddy joke you can think of – I've learned to ignore that, and all the sexist gibes too, even from other members of Superintendent Godley's team. They seem to think I get special treatment because I'm a woman – God, if only. I feel like I'm constantly trying to impress him. I still don't really know why he picked me out of the borough and added me to his squad – but I'm determined not to let him down.
I've got a brother, Dec, who's four years older than me. He seems middle-aged already – he got married when he was 25 and he's got two daughters. He lives in Croydon, not far from my parents. My mum and dad are from ordinary backgrounds – they live in a semi-detached in Cheam; my mum worked as a doctor's receptionist for 30 years and my dad was in insurance – and my mum, in particular, can't understand why I want to be a police officer. She'd love me to be a doctor, or a lawyer – something she could boast to the rest of the family about.
But for me, there's nothing like being a police officer, especially a detective. I get to investigate the biggest crimes, the worst things that can happen, and if I do my job properly, the people who commit the crimes are taken out of society. It's not even about justice being done – it's about making sure that ordinary, decent people don't have to live in fear. It's an important job. It saves lives.
I do long hours – I'm always determined to get the job done. Superintendent Godley's complimented me on being thorough. And when I do go out, I find it quite hard socialising with people who aren't on the force. It's the endless questions:
'Any interesting cases lately?' 'What's the most hideous thing you've ever seen on duty?' 'Do you wish they still had capital punishment?' 'Can you sort out this speeding ticket for me?'
It's the same with boyfriends – they can't really understand the long hours, unless they're a policeman too. I think that's why I like Rob Langton so much – he really gets it. But in the meantime, I have to put up with obnoxious, arrogant Derwent, who's always trying to get a rise out of me. Having him as my partner is really testing my infamous temper...
If there was one thing I was learning about the killer we were seeking, it was that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, whatever that might be...
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