The Dead Dog Day by Jackie Kabler Page A

Britain in winter, eh?’
    Gary looked glum. ‘Exactly. And could easily be stuffed in a bag afterwards too, so it’s not going to help us much trying to track down everyone who was wearing black that day. Which incidentally, was about seventy per cent of the people in the building. What is it about media types and black? Anyway, nothing else, forensic-wise, apart from the tape residue which appears to come from a standard roll of duct tape, available anywhere. No sweat, saliva, fingerprints, nothing. Bloody annoying.’
    Adam sighed. ‘A forensically aware killer then, maybe. Or somebody who just got lucky. OK. So. CCTV. No CCTV in Kendrick’s office or in the newsroom itself. Good shots from the front of the building of people coming in early for work, but no solid reason to suspect any of them at the moment. We still haven’t identified that lurker have we?’
    Again, a murmured ‘no’ from the group.
    â€˜Also CCTV from the rear entrance and the east side of the building. Again, nothing much of interest, except the trickle of people coming in and out as you’d expect. But for some reason, the bloody CCTV cameras covering the west side, where Kendrick’s office is, were conveniently not working. Coincidence or design?’
    â€˜Bleeding coincidence,’ said Gary. ‘Fairly sure of that, anyway. Apparently it had been playing up for a while, according to security. Sod’s Law. There aren’t any main entrance doors on that side though, just fire doors and delivery areas. But it means we have no shots of her actually coming down. And no shots of anyone who might have entered or left the building via any of the doors on that side. The CCTV footage from further up and down the street has been checked too and there’s no sign of anything suspicious. A few people wandering along the road in the minutes after it happened, but just looks like people heading to work. And of course, we have no reason to think the killer left the building. Could have just gone back to his duties once he’d shoved her out. Got to be a cool customer, given he did the deed just feet away from a roomful of people.’
    He cleared his throat and flicked through his notes again.
    â€˜House to house enquiries – well, mainly office to office in that area – turned up sod all as well. Most of the offices with a line of sight to the TV building were still empty at 8 a.m., bit of a slow-down in the run-up to Christmas, and the few staff we did find who were already in didn’t see anything. Well, they wouldn’t would they, unless they were staring out the window at the right time? And, of course, even though it was eight o’clock, it’s still almost dark at that time in December. It was just a few days before the twenty-first, the shortest day of the year. Also, the window the victim was pushed out of is positioned at the back of the building, so it wouldn’t have been easy to spot her coming out even if anyone did happen to glance that way at the right time. And the river runs behind the building, but there’s a big wall, so no chance of anyone viewing anything from that side at all.’
    Adam perched on the corner of the nearest desk, scratched his blond head and sighed.
    Gary continued. ‘Of course, we do have CCTV from the reception area and the three lifts inside the studio building. But there aren’t any in the emergency stairwells, so it’s feasible that if somebody with murder in mind did come in from outside, they could have used the stairs to get up to the seventh floor. We’re going through all the CCTV frame by frame, but it’s a big job – huge, busy building, hundreds of people arriving for work between about 3 a.m. and the time of the murder. They start early in TV land, it seems. And as we have no idea who or what we’re looking for, I’m not sure how valuable it’s going to be, unless we spot anyone