Page 20 of Watching You

The woman didn’t wait for Connie to finish the instruction. The noise of the impact ricocheted off the bare walls like a bullet. Connie’s head turned with the blow, but her feet stayed where she’d planted them. There was a mass intake of breath.

Jane Bass, rigid and trembling, opened her mouth to speak but emitted only a fading squeak.

Connie held firm as Archie Bass’s sister tried, and failed, to breathe.

Sobs made her chest convulse but wouldn’t exit through her mouth.

Her hands were balled into fists as she brought them to either side of her face like a boxer on guard.

Connie extended her arms but did not approach.

It took a full minute for Jane to stagger forward, falling into Connie’s embrace, head on her shoulder, letting out a shriek that made every other person in the room look away.

They didn’t move until she’d finished crying, and that took time.

No one spoke. No one left the room. Connie’s decision to play the confrontation out in front of them all rather than having Jane Bass removed when she had the opportunity to do so was a very clear message: you must all bear witness to this.

When Jane finally pulled away, Salter stepped up with a box of tissues.

Jane Bass grabbed a handful and wiped until her face was dry.

The effect of the tears was shocking. Her swollen eyes blazed red, her cheeks were blotched, and her lips were bleeding where she’d bitten them.

Someone moved a chair so she could sit before she fell.

She was panting like a marathon runner and doubled over to drag more air into her lungs.

‘You have questions,’ Connie said. ‘We’ll do our best to answer them.’

Jane gulped but nodded.

‘There were all those protestors in York Place and police everywhere. It was even on TV. I’m not saying that lady who died didn’t deserve the support, but no one’s protesting for my brother. Does he matter less because he was homeless?’

‘Homeless isn’t who he was, it’s where he lived,’ Connie said.

‘We haven’t updated you only because we’ve made no progress on your brother’s case.

Usually when progress is slow it’s because of a lack of forensic evidence.

In Archie’s case, there’s too much. It’s a regular problem with people who move around, frequently stay in hostels, and use second-hand clothes and bedding.

We haven’t found a weapon and there were no witnesses.

We’ve canvassed the local homeless community to ascertain if Archie was having trouble with anyone in particular, but those enquiries also proved negative.

By all accounts, your brother was an amiable man who kept himself to himself and who had no known enemies on the streets. ’

‘So … what are you going to do? Is that it?’

‘No. That’s just the start but I won’t tell you it’s going to be easy. Figuring out motive is key,’ Connie said.

‘It does seem to me that we’ve failed to provide you with the support you need,’ Overbeck interjected.

Her voice was soft and Connie noted that the long nails had been deposited in pockets.

‘I apologise on behalf of Police Scotland for not liaising with you closely enough. Your brother is as much a priority as any other victim of crime. We have no other agenda than to ensure his murderer is brought swiftly to justice. Why don’t you come to my office?

I’ll have someone bring us a pot of tea and some biscuits. We can talk privately there.’

Jane stood, gripping a desk for support as she found her feet.

‘Okay,’ she muttered. ‘I’m … I’m sorry I hit you. I didn’t even know I was going to do that.’

Connie stepped forward and took her by the hand, gripping it hard as she leaned in to whisper in her ear. ‘Don’t apologise. It was the only thing you had left. When men hit, it’s usually because they hate. When women hit, it’s often because they love. You were entitled to wake us up.’

Overbeck escorted Jane out of the room and along the corridor towards her office. No one spoke until they were out of hearing distance.

Baarda returned to his place at the back of the room, folded his arms and leaned against a desk. Salter took up Overbeck’s position at the door, making sure it was firmly shut. Connie sighed and looked up at the board where she’d pinned the additional photos of the victims.

‘Why no progress in any of these cases?’ she asked. ‘What are we missing?’

‘There’s less to go on forensically than we’re used to,’ Salter said.

‘It’s become a pattern of late. Everyone’s watching those police investigation documentary series, so all the drug dealers and robbers have started leaving their mobile at home meaning we can’t trace their movements.

There’s been a real uptick in purchasing latex gloves.

Even teenagers stealing bikes are careful not to leave traces these days. ’

‘We just have to double our efforts,’ Connie said.

‘Let’s go back to the beginning. Find me someone who was in contact with Dale Abnay shortly before his death.

That should be possible given he was in employment.

And someone spend more time with Jane Bass when she’s finished with the superintendent.

I want a history of Archie’s regular hangouts.

As for Divya Singh, put together a map of possible vehicular routes away from the place where she was killed.

At some point that car passed a CCTV camera, and if it didn’t, the killer either ditched it or made it home.

There’s no such thing as no evidence. We just have to look a bit harder. ’