Page 8 of The Scene of the Crime (Jessica Russell #1)

She could hear the caller struggling to breathe. ‘I need to ask you some questions. To answer, press once for no and twice for yes on any button on your phone. Do you need police assistance?’

The caller pressed twice. The handler asked if the caller was injured and received another double press.

When asked if they had been assaulted and if the assailant was still on the premises, the caller indicated yes.

The handler, realising the caller might be in a life-threatening situation, raised her hand to get the attention of the duty chief inspector, who came over and connected his headset to the handler’s unit. The handler continued the conversation.

‘I can see your mobile phone number but can’t pinpoint your location. Please whisper your address, then I can dispatch the police and an ambulance to you.’

The caller started to speak for the first time, but their voice was weak and their breathing shallow, making it hard to understand the reply. The handler could pick up a few words and asked the caller to tap yes or no again to her questions.

‘Did you say Victoria Park?’

There was another double press.

‘Is that Victoria Park Road in Hackney?’

The caller pressed yes again.

‘I know it’s hard, but I need your house number . . .’

The caller started to speak, but his voice was rasping, making it difficult to hear the number.

‘I heard the numbers three and eighty, but I need the last number again,’ the handler requested.

The caller groaned as he tried to give the number, then cried, ‘No, please don’t . . .’

The handler and chief inspector could hear repeated thuds, like a fist beating against a chest, intermingled with the agonising screams of the caller, who was clearly being beaten or stabbed. Then the phone went dead.

The young handler was visibly distressed and slow to respond, so the chief inspector took over and put out an urgent response call on the radio.

‘All units Central East from Control . . . suspects on premises Victoria Park Road, Hackney. The exact address is currently unknown, but it is believed to be between 380 and 389. Approach with caution, as suspects may be violent and armed. Victim unknown but male and may have life-threatening injuries. Ambulance also en route.’

Two vehicles initially responded, with one stating it was in Bethnal Green, approximately three minutes away, and the other about five minutes away. A police dog unit and an armed response vehicle said they would attend but were some distance away.

The chief inspector updated the officers travelling to the scene, informing them that the mobile cell mast identification showed the call coming from the Hackney Wick end of Victoria Park Road, which would suggest the victim lived in one of the expensive terraced houses opposite the park.

PC Sally Simpson, with full headlights on, was driving the closest vehicle, and said they would start house-to-house visits from 380 to 389.

The chief inspector instructed the second vehicle to check the even numbers from three hundred and eighty upwards, which, from mapping data, didn’t overlook the park and were further up the road from Hackney Wick.

The other two vehicles attending were to split up and assist the officers at the odd and even numbers on arrival.

‘I just hope they find him alive,’ the young call handler said, close to tears.

The chief inspector gave her a comforting smile. ‘Those are the sorts of calls we all dread, but you handled it well, so don’t let it get to you. You can finish duty early if you want. I can also arrange counselling if you need it.’

‘Thank you, sir, but I’ll be fine. I want to stay and know the outcome.’

‘OK, but take a few minutes off first. You did a good job and remained calm while dealing with the caller. Believe me, there was nothing more you could have done . . . but be prepared for the worst.’

*?*?*

PC Sally Simpson drove slowly up Victoria Park Road past the odd numbers.

None of the premises had lights on. She reversed, parked outside number 385, and her colleague, PC Andy Reid, hurriedly opened his passenger door and started to get out.

Sally grabbed his jacket. ‘Whoa, not so fast, newbie. You don’t go flying into these situations .

. . the suspect might be armed and still be on the premises. Let control know we’ve arrived.’

‘Sorry.’ Since his initial training, he had only been on patrol for three weeks, and this was his first night shift. His heart raced as he nervously made the radio call, then looked to Sally for advice.

‘You start at 380. I’ll go to 389. If you see anything, don’t go charging in or shout. Call me on the radio quietly or wave if you can see me. Use your torch to check the ground and door for blood as you go.’

Reid, eyes wide open, nodded and got out of the car.

As Sally approached 389, she flicked on her torch and proceeded up the three stone steps to the front door.

She shone her torch on the doormat and noticed a tiny smear of what looked like blood and another small smear on the doorknob.

She next opened the letter-box, shone her torch through it and could see what looked like a bloody footprint in the hallway. She called Reid on the radio.

‘Get the enforcer from the car boot asap,’ she whispered, referring to the portable battering ram.

Reid replied, ‘Received’, and on hearing their conversation, the control room chief inspector asked for an update.

Sally told him what she’d found, and the chief inspector suggested they wait for backup before entering in case any suspects were still on the premises.

Reid, who now had the red enforcer, looked to Sally for a decision.

She pressed her radio button. ‘I’ve got a taser. The victim may need urgent medical assistance, so we’ll proceed with caution, over . . .’

The chief inspector said he would direct the other attending officers and the ambulance to their location.

‘Turn your body camera on, put the door in, then get your truncheon out,’ Sally told Reid.

‘I’ve never used an enforcer,’ he said, feebly.

‘You’re much stronger than me. Aim halfway between the doorknob and the frame for maximum force, not at the doorknob itself.’

His hand trembled as he pressed his body cam on.

He held the ram towards the door, took a deep breath, swung it back, then smashed it into the door with all his might.

It didn’t open the first time, but he kept going, and on the third blow it did, revealing a long hallway with oak flooring and two sets of carpeted stairs at the far end, one going up and the other down.

Reid put the ram down, withdrew his extendable baton and flicked it open.

‘You good to go?’ Sally asked calmly. He nodded and started to walk across the threshold. Sally stopped him and held up the taser. ‘It’s ladies first, you stay behind me. Keep to the left-hand side of the hallway to avoid stepping on any suspect footprints.’

She stepped into the hall. ‘This is the police,’ she called loudly.

‘I am armed with a taser. If there’s anyone in the house, walk slowly into the hallway with your hands raised.

’ She cautiously walked a few feet into the house with her taser raised.

They waited a few seconds before moving forward again.

To their left was an open door to a large living room.

Sally used her knuckle to knock the light switch on.

They could see it had been ransacked, with drawers and their contents scattered over the floor.

‘Looks like a burglary,’ Reid said quietly.

Sally pointed to faint bloodstained footprints on the floor so Reid wouldn’t step in them.

He looked queasy as they moved forward slowly, stopping by the decorative archway which led to a large open-plan kitchen diner.

Sally repeated the taser warning and pointed to some more bloody footprints on the tiled kitchen floor by a large marble island, which they couldn’t quite see over.

Sally turned the light on, illuminating a considerable amount of blood on the floor, the island worktop, kitchen cupboards and a large fridge. Reid started to move sideways.

‘Don’t step in the blood,’ Sally warned him as they moved around to get a better view of the other side of the island.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Reid exclaimed. There was a semi-naked man in pyjama bottoms lying motionless, face down in a pool of blood.

He had a large kitchen knife embedded in his back and a gaping wound on the back of his head.

He looked as if he had been beaten and repeatedly stabbed. Reid put his hand to his mouth.

‘If you’re going to be sick, do it outside,’ Sally said as she holstered her taser and moved forward to check for any signs of life. She leaned over to avoid stepping in the blood and put two fingers on the man’s neck, then looked at Reid and shook her head. ‘Looks like he’s dead,’ she said calmly.

‘Oh my God!’ Reid exclaimed.

‘What, what’s wrong?’ Sally asked, startled.

‘I just saw his finger twitch.’

Sally heard a siren. ‘That’s the ambulance . . . go and escort them in.’ She then contacted the control room and gave them an update.

As Reid rushed outside, another patrol car pulled up. Two officers got out and headed towards the house. He told them it appeared that the suspects had gone, then spoke with the ambulance crew and directed them to the kitchen.

While the ambulance crew worked on the victim, Sally told the other officers it was best no one else entered the scene so as not to contaminate or damage any potential forensic evidence.

As they didn’t know in which direction the assailant had gone, Sally asked the officers to get further assistance to cordon off the street at least a hundred metres each way and both ends of Homer Road, which was to the right of the victim’s house.