Page 20 of The Scene of the Crime

‘Unlike my boss,’ he smiled.

‘Sounds like you’re not his biggest fan,’ she said.

‘I don’t dislike him, but he always thinks he knows best, which can be a pain. Why does Taff call Jessica “Draig”?’ he asked, changing the subject.

‘Because of her red hair. Draig is Welsh for dragon. She accepts it from Taff, but I wouldn’t start calling her Draig if I were you.’

‘The last thing I want to do is offend her. Her hair is rather striking, though . . . do you think she’d be OK with Ginger Ninja?’

Diane shook her head and picked up her scene examination case. ‘I better get to work on the BPA.’

‘Sorry, what’s BPA?’

‘Blood pattern analysis.’

‘Right, I know what it stands for, but what does it involve?’

‘Basically, it’s the interpretation of blood patterns to recreate the actions that caused the bloodshed. I examine the bloodstains’ size, shape, distribution and location to form opinions about what did or did not happen . . . and I take swabs for DNA.’

‘I can do the packaging and exhibit labels for the swabs if you want.’

Diane was wary of his offer and his desire to be close to everything they were doing.

‘I’ll need to ask Jessica. She’s never keen on too many people being in a crime scene due to the risk of contamination.’

He gave her his most winning smile. ‘I’ll suit and boot up, and I promise not to get in your way.’

A few minutes later, Jessica opened her eyes, picked up her iPad and started making more notes. Diane approached, speaking in an undertone. ‘The ferret’s at it again. He wants to assist me in the kitchen and bag and tag the exhibits.’

‘He’s certainly persistent,’ Jessica replied. She turned to Chapman. ‘Thanks for the offer, DI Chapman, but I feel three of us in the crime scene is enough and—’

He interrupted her. ‘I’m not here to spy on you and report back to Anderson, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just that I feel like a waste of space hanging around twiddling my thumbs waiting for the house-to-house enquiry results. I’m just trying to be helpful, that’s all.’

Jessica had a sense he was being genuine. She looked at Diane, who nodded. ‘The crime scene suits and other protective equipment are in the van.’

Chapman smiled. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. But I have another request . . .’

Jessica frowned. ‘And what would that be?’

‘Can you all please call me Mike?’

‘OK, Mike,’ Jessica said.

‘Good. So, what are your thoughts about the scene?’

‘I’m still working on it. I believe the intruder was male, but I’m not ruling out more than one person.’ She picked up her crime scene case and walked towards the house.

Jessica went downstairs to the basement, which covered the same square area as the ground floor and consisted of three rooms. The middle section at the bottom of the stairs had an eight-seat home cinema with a large, motorised screen, ceiling-mounted projector and red velvet reclining chairs. To one side, there was a commercial dual-zone double-door wine fridge filled with an impressive array of champagnes and red and white South African wines. Next to the refrigerator was a cabinet filled with bottles of spirits and liqueurs with a popcorn machine on top. To the right of the cinema area was a well-equipped gym, with a sauna and shower room.

Jessica went to the front room, an oak-floored study with a bay window about five feet down from street level. There was a large, modern oak computer desk with a mini-PC and two monitors on it. Jessica looked at some of the paperwork on the desk. It seemed to be mostly invoices and orders for South African wines with Johan De Klerk’s name and address on them. On the left side of the desk was an overturned photograph frame. Jessica wondered if the intruder had knocked it over. Wearing latex gloves, she gently turned it over. It was a picture of a man gleefully smiling while holding a rifle and crouching down beside a large dead animal. Standing next to him was a woman who, from the expression on her face, didn’t look happy about it. Jessica thought the animal might be an antelope of some kind. It had vertical white stripes on its torso, a white chevron between its eyes and long twisting horns. She sympathised with the woman in the photograph. As far as she was concerned, wild game hunting was barbaric.

Jessica searched the internet on her iPad for a picture of Michelle Belsham. She found a good one of her outside the Old Bailey and could instantly see that she was the woman in the hunting photograph. She was tall and slim with piercing green eyes, high cheekbones and long glossy black hair. Jessica thensearched Johan De Klerk and found a site dedicated to his wine import business, featuring pictures of him in a South African vineyard. It was also clearly him in the hunting photo. Johan De Klerk was handsome, with blond hair, blue eyes and a rugged face. He was about six foot five inches tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique.

To the side of the desk was a two-drawer filing cabinet and the digital locking metal safe that had been forced open. Jessica took some photographs of the safe and then enlarged the area to get a better look at the indented striation marks on the door and frame, which could be helpful for comparison if the implement used to force it open was recovered. Jessica heard Taff calling her. ‘I’m in the study room,’ she called back.

A few moments later he joined her. ‘Just wanted to let you know I’ve finished the video and photography, downstairs and upstairs. I’ll examine the main bedroom now if you’re happy with that.’

‘Yes, of course, crack on.’