Page 109 of The Scene of the Crime

Liam looked to Chapman first, and then to Jessica. ‘Am I going back to my cell?’

‘Yes, I’ll see you get some breakfast.’ Chapman was in a hurry to get going as the custody officer entered. Chapman hurried out and Liam and Jessica both stood up.

Hesitantly, Liam put his hand out, reaching towards her as if to shake her hand.

She stared at him. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said quietly. She walked out as the custody officer took Liam by the arm.

It was 7.30 a.m. when Chapman tried calling Anderson, but there was no answer. He sent a text message saying there had been a significant development in the investigation and that he needed to search a suspect’s address and arrest him if he was there. Jessica was standing beside him as he put his phone down.

‘We need to go to Wheeler’s flat right away. He may not be there, so we might have to set up a surveillance operation. Hopefully, you and your team will find some incriminating evidence. I’ll need a full forensic search on the premises, so I’d like you to come with us and see what you’ll be dealing with.’

‘Yes, of course. I don’t expect Anderson will be very pleased, though.’

‘Sod him. He should have answered his phone. Mind you, it’s probably better he didn’t. He’d have told us to wait until he got here and wasted valuable time. I’ll see if anyone’s in the main office who can come with us. You get down to the yard, I’ll only be a few minutes.’

Chapman drove to Fred Wigg Tower with Jessica and DC Bingham, who had got into work early. On arrival, they met two uniformed officers waiting around the corner in a marked patrol car. They then all took the lift to flat 78. Chapman knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. He knocked again, but still no one came to the door.

‘Bollocks,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I’ll need a warrant to force entry. For now, we’ll set up an observation post. That’ll give us time to brief Anderson and get the warrant, then he can decide whether to go in.’

Jessica got her phone out, dialled Wheeler’s number, put her ear to the door, and listened. ‘I can hear a mobile ringing. It’s unlikely he’d go out leaving his phone behind. He could be in there.’

Chapman turned to one of the uniformed officers. ‘You got a door ram in the patrol car?’

‘Yes, guv.’ He hurried off.

Chapman crouched down and opened the letterbox. ‘This is the police, Wheeler!’ he shouted. ‘Open the door now, or we’ll force it open.’ There was still no reply, and when the officer returned with the ram, Chapman took it from him.

‘Don’t we need a warrant to enter, guv?’ Bingham asked.

‘No. Wheeler is suspected of attempted murder, and we think he’s refusing to let us in, so we have reasonable grounds to enter by force, arrest him and search the premises. Get your tasers out just in case,’ Chapman instructed the uniform officers. He swung the ram back and struck the door hard a few times before the lock gave way with a sound of cracking wood. ‘Armed police! Stay where you are, Wheeler!’ Chapman shouted, standing back to let the officers, with their tasers raised, enter first.

The contents of the hallway cupboard were strewn across the floor. The officers, followed by Chapman and Jessica, cautiously stepped over a rucksack, hoover and assorted coats, checking the kitchen and bedrooms before approaching the living room.

Chapman sniffed a few times and looked at Jessica. ‘Is that smell what I think it is?’ he asked.

Jessica nodded. ‘Let’s hope it’s an animal, not Wheeler.’

The living room had been ransacked. A man was slumped back in an armchair with a bruised face and a trail of dried blood from his nose and mouth onto the front of his shirt and trousers. Chapman looked at the photo of Wheeler then passed it to her.

‘I’d say that’s him,’ she said, looking closely at the body. Chapman put on some latex gloves and checked for a neck pulse, just to be sure. ‘Looks like someone got to him before we did,’ she said, removing a pair of latex gloves from her handbag and putting them on. She took the man’s hand and lifted it. ‘The arm muscle isn’t fully stiff, which suggests rigor mortis is on its wayout. It can last up to twenty-four hours, sometimes longer, then the stiffness disperses, and the muscles become flexible.’

‘How long do you think he’s been dead, then?’ Chapman asked.

‘It’s best to call out a pathologist. They can give you a better time of death estimate than me.’

‘At a guess?’ Chapman asked.

‘A day and a half, maybe two, tops.’ Chapman asked one of the uniform officers to call the local station and ask them to contact the local coroner’s office, requesting a pathologist attend the scene. He then crouched down and looked at the man’s trainers.

‘Adidas Ultraboost.’

‘And a pair of Sealskinz gloves are on the coffee table beside a passport,’ Jessica added. She picked up the passport and removed the folded piece of A4 paper tucked inside it. She opened the passport and showed it to Chapman.

‘It’s in the name of Colin Heart but with Wheeler’s photograph.’ She then unfolded the piece of paper. ‘A printed copy of a one-way, business class ticket for Colin Heart. Emirates Airways to Dubai for nine a.m. yesterday morning. Looks like Wheeler was in a hurry to get out of the country.’

‘Well, he won’t be getting a refund,’ Chapman said.

‘Dubai’s an odd place to go if you’re on the run,’ Jessica said, frowning.