Page 6 of Deadly Cry
Kim held up her ID. ‘EPT meeting.’
The woman pointed towards a set of double glass and wood doors. Kim nodded. She’d used the conference facilities many times before.
The Hackett Suite was the smallest of the nine meeting rooms, and the door was wide open when she reached it.
A few people stood around the room, self-consciously holding small white cups from the stack beside the silver tea urn. A couple of people smiled or nodded in her direction as her eyes rested on the hastily written place cards folded in front of chairs at the table. Beside the name cards were briefing packs.
She decided to forgo the coffee, already tasting the cheap bitterness that couldn’t be saved by any amount of milk or sugar.
She took a seat at the card marked ‘WM Police’. They hadn’t known who was coming so had been unable to state her name.
She counted six cards excluding her own. She took a moment to match the people standing to their designated seats.
Nikita Jackson, a severe woman with a crew cut, was obvious as the representative from West Midlands Ambulance Service. She had gravitated to an overweight man Kim knew to be Clive Young from the Fire Service. Both were called in for any event where crowds were expected and injury or incident was a possibility. They would decide the level of manpower that would be committed to the event.
Bill Platt, the events manager for Dudley Council, was busying himself pouring a refill from the hot-water urn. He paused every few seconds to push his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose.
She’d never met the two other people in the room. The man leaning against the wall, scrolling through something on his mobile phone, she guessed was Christopher Manley, founder of TSS, otherwise known as Total Security Systems. The private company provided remote CCTV services, commercial and residential key-holding services, manned guarding and event support. Three years ago, they had won the contract to provide event security to Dudley Council. She had assumed the owner of the company would be older, but he looked to be late-thirties.
One more name: by the process of elimination, she guessed the woman with a shock of natural blonde curls falling all over her face was Kate Sewell, agent of Tyra Brooks, the celebrity.
That left one person; they had been seated opposite her at the rectangular conference table.
And every head turned towards the door as West Mercia Superintendent Lena Wiley entered the room.
Kim wasn’t surprised to see that the woman’s commanding demeanour was no less evident in person than it had been on the small screen she’d been watching in the café an hour earlier.
Similar to herself in height, Lena Wiley possessed a presence that demanded attention. While not overweight, there was a solidity to her physicality that offered a reassurance. It wasn’t masculine, but it was assured, confident.
Kim knew little about the woman except for a couple of rumours she’d heard. Apparently, there was a standing joke that her personal assistant was only ever issued a weekly pass for the car park, as Lena hadn’t kept anyone in the position beyond that period of time since taking the job. Having held the record of staff turnover rates for West Mids until a few years ago, Kim knew better than to judge her for that alone. She’d also heard the superintendent got results and wasn’t afraid of authority. Not bad qualities as far as Kim was concerned. Ultimately, she had risen to a decent rank when the odds of doing so were not on her side. Kim respected that.
Superintendent Wiley offered a nod that encompassed everyone in the room before disregarding the place tags and taking a seat at the head of the table.
Kim noted the irritation on the face of the council events planner, whose job it was to coordinate both the event and the meeting.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Lena said as everyone else just took the seat closest to them. The security company owner was now sitting directly opposite Kim.
Councilman Platt coughed.
‘Thank you all for coming. As you already know, we have an event this Thursday—’
‘Unless the details have changed since the last meeting, I’m sure we can forgo the waffle,’ Lena Wiley interrupted. ‘And the people not present can refresh with the briefing packs.’
All eyes in the room were on the visiting police officer. Kim.
Platt reddened. ‘Of course, but—’
‘I suggest we run through the plan of action as already noted and any questions can be raised at the end.’
Although her following pause indicated she was awaiting his agreement, the room already knew who was running this meeting.
Kim guessed that Lena Wiley hadn’t got to where she had by being a pushover, and if the woman’s direct approach got her out of this meeting and back to her real job sooner, she’d happily cheer Wiley on.
‘Okay,’ Lena said, tapping her finger on the briefing pack but not opening it, ‘Ms Brooks will be handed over to us at one p.m. on Thursday. We will escort her to Kingfisher Shopping Centre at Redditch, where she will sign for an hour and—’
‘Or until the crowd has gone,’ Kate Sewell interjected. ‘Tyra will sign every last book.’
Lena glared at her but said nothing about the interruption.
