Free Case One by Chris Ould

the outer cordon and keep an eye on the forensic team’s van. From then on the only thing to distract her was the cold in her feet and the occasional curious passer-by.
    When anyone did approach, Holly asked the same question: “
Were you near here between six and seven o’clock yesterday evening?
” And when they said no – as they invariably did – she asked them to move on as politely as possible.
    Now Holly watched as the female CSE put the evidence bags in the van and locked it. From the size and shape of the bags, she was pretty sure they contained Ashleigh Jarvis’s coat, bag and shoes, so when the CSE glanced her way and gave a friendly nod Holly took the opportunity to speak.
    â€œHow’s it going?” she asked.
    â€œWe’ve had worse,” the CSE said. She hesitated, then came a bit closer. “First serious crime scene?”
    Holly nodded. “We were here last night. One of the other TPOs found the victim’s things.”
    â€œYeah? They did well to spot them in there.”
    â€œDo you think you’ll be able to get any evidence to show who did it?”
    The CSE pulled a face. “Maybe. Problem is, it’s a communal area, so most of the samples we get will be unrelated.” She gestured towards the bin shelter. “If we find a fag end on the victim’s coat, we could get DNA from it, but we still wouldn’t know whether it came from the attacker or Mrs Bloggin’s rubbish.”
    â€œSo it’s a waste of time?”
    â€œNo, but I reckon the best chance of a result will be from the rape kit, the knickers or the rest of her clothes. If we get a foreign DNA sample there that’s going to be the best pointer towards the culprit.”
    â€œ
If
he’s on file.”
    â€œYeah, well, if they’d let us have everyone’s DNA on record… Course, civil liberties would have something to say about that.” She shrugged, then shifted. “Listen, I’d better get on.”
    â€œSure. Thanks.” Holly hunched against a gust of cold wind. “How much longer will it take do you know?”
    â€œCouple of hours probably. Sorry.”
    â€œNah, I’ll survive,” Holly said.

5.
    DRURY HOUSE
CADOGAN ESTATE
09:38 HRS
    â€œOkay, thanks for your help.”
    Oz Sitwell stepped back and made a note on his clipboard as the woman inside the flat closed the door. They were on the eighth-floor landing of Drury House because Oz reckoned it was easier to start at the top and work down.
    â€œFive for seven,” Oz said, meaning five answers from seven doors. “Not bad for a Saturday morning so far.”
    â€œSo what happens for the places where no one’s in?” Sam asked. “I mean, when do we try again?”
    â€œThat’s up to CID. If they think it’s worth spending their budget we can keep on coming back till we’ve talked to everyone in the block. Don’t think they’ll do it on this though, not unless she dies. If she does the budget’ll go up.”
    He gestured towards the next door and Sam moved with him.
    â€œThe thing I don’t get is why we need to do door-to-door in the first place,” Sam said. “I mean, if someone knows something or saw something, aren’t they going to come forward and say?”
    â€œYou’d think, but they don’t,” Oz said, with a flat shrug. “They can’t be arsed.”
    â€œWhat, even for something serious like this?”
    â€œNot serious to them, is it?”
    He took hold of the letter box flap in the next door and rattled it sharply.
    â€œCouple of years back we did a door-to-door for a stabbing in Covington. The DI’s convinced there must’ve been witnesses so we went all round the streets about five times; kept going back till we’d talked to all the residents except one… Finally we go round and find this bloke at home and as soon as we tell him what it’s