When the Evil Waits by M Lee (top fiction books of all time txt) 📕

She is sitting in her office, the sun streaming through the windows highlighting the natural blonde streaks in her hair, a steely-eyed determination imprinted in her eyes.

‘I went to the University of Leeds and studied history, but I wasn’t one of your student radicals. I was more the type to stay at home, study and have a cup of cocoa, rather than be out raving every night.’

She talks about her past in the same way she discusses her present; open, honest, straightforward and frank to the point of bluntness.

‘I finished Uni and didn’t know what to do with myself. Then I saw an ad for the Greater Manchester Police fast track scheme. I applied and was accepted.’

She states the last fact modestly, but the fast track scheme is restricted to the best and brightest, the future elite of Manchester police.

‘The rest is history and a lot of hard work, long hours and being in the right place at the right time.’

Once again, her natural modesty shines through. In truth, she has displayed a forthright intelligence throughout her career which has helped her rise to the top, to join the cream of detectives. Lecturing gigs at Bramshill, the police college, have singled her out as one of the deepest-thinking cops of her generation, a go-getter and strict disciplinarian.

‘I was brought into MIT to shake it up, bring it kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Being a copper these days is not about pounding the beat and nicking the bad guys. It’s much more a management role; forming a mission, hiring the best people, setting the standards and letting people get on with their work. You know, the latest advances in DNA, CCTV, criminal profiling, computer crime, encryption, digital investigations, forensic analysis and managed resource allocation mean that the modern police force is so much more than a few coppers on the beat.’

Public opinion polls have shown that people want to see more policemen and women, for them to have a visible presence in their area.

She counters this with a simple answer. ‘But is it the most effective use of resources? Politicians always talk about putting more bobbies on the beat, but how is having a policeman on the street going to stop computer crime? Or track a criminal’s cell phone? Or analyse DNA from a crime scene? Or combat international drug gangs?’

Ever the disruptor, she asks the questions other police officers avoid. No wonder she is being fast tracked to run a major force in the near future. ‘Has it been difficult being a woman in a man’s world?’

She shakes her head vehemently. ‘Not at all. In fact, it’s an advantage. Being a woman, I bring a determination to get things done, to finish the job, not to take no for an answer.’

No wonder one of her heroes is Margaret Thatcher, along with Mata Hari, and Florence Nightingale. As eclectic choices as the person who made them.

Of course, one of her latest cases, the murder of David Carsley, enters the conversation. Despite not having any kids of her own, she cares deeply about children.

‘They should feel safe and protected at all times. The Carsley case has been one where we have interviewed over 3000 witnesses, canvassed 1200 homes in the area, and gathered over 250 different pieces of evidence. It’s an ongoing investigation which I’m certain will soon result in an arrest.’

Her eyes take on a steely gaze as she talks about her desire to find the man responsible in almost evangelical terms.

‘This man will kill again if he is allowed to stay on the streets. The job, the vocation, of myself and my officers is to make sure he is taken down and put away for the rest of his natural life for this heinous crime.’

The kidnapping and murder of the seven-year-old boy from Wythenshawe happened over two weeks ago and an arrest still hasn’t been made yet.

‘A man will be charged soon.’

‘You have a suspect?’

‘We do.’ She answers firmly: again the steely tone in her voice reminds me of the late Mrs Thatcher. This is another woman who’s not for turning.

‘This man already has form for attacks on his wife and children. My Senior Investigating Officer, DCI Paul Turnbull, is sure we have the right man. It’s a question of collecting the evidence to prove his guilt conclusively.’

I ask whether it is somebody from Manchester or further afield.

Ever the discreet copper, Claire Trent shakes her head. ‘That wouldn’t be the correct procedure. We still need to gather evidence and make sure the Crown Prosecution Service agree with us there is a case to answer. But I can assure your readers and the general public, we will charge the right man in the near future.’

That is indeed great news.

And with Detective Superintendent Claire Trent in charge, Manchester is sure it has the right woman.

‘It’s a puff piece,’ said Mrs Challinor. ‘I didn’t know you were so close to arresting somebody.’

‘Neither did I,’ said Ridpath, checking his watch. ‘But I think it is going to happen soon. Unless I can do something to stop it.’

Chapter 44

Ridpath didn’t wait.

He walked straight out of the Coroner’s Office and down the steps, passing Helen Moore returning with her afternoon coffee.

‘You’re off out again?’ she asked.

He ignored her and strode out to his car, slamming the gear in and accelerating away in a squeal of tyres.

He had to talk with Claire Trent, find out what the hell was going on.

She didn’t seem surprised to see him when he turned up at her office.

‘Come in, Ridpath, and sit down.’

‘I’d prefer to stand, boss.’

‘Please yourself.’

He got right to it, there was no point in pussy-footing around. ‘What’s happening? I saw the interview you did with Molly Wright.’

‘News travels fast. I only did it this morning. I haven’t even seen the finished article myself yet.’

He passed the newspaper across the desk. She picked it up and scowled. ‘I don’t like the photo. Makes me look like some harridan from a brothel in Cheetham