"We should still have CSI turn this place over, just in case," he said. Cassie nodded. She produced an evidence bag and Janssen released the magazine into the palm of his hand. It was fully loaded and there was also one round chambered. The weapon was prepared. Devon Bailey had dangerous enemies or, perhaps, dangerous friends.
He placed the magazine alongside the gun in the bag and Cassie sealed it. Indicating towards the front door, Janssen crossed to the balcony and closed the door, locking it and putting the key back in its evidence bag. He then joined Cassie in leaving the apartment. The entrance door was ajar and as Janssen pulled on the handle he heard a shuffling of feet in the hall. Pulling it wide, the concierge was still there looking somewhat flustered. If he had to guess, Janssen figured he'd been at the door eavesdropping. It was probably the most exciting thing he'd experienced in his role to date.
"Are you finished?" the man asked Janssen.
"Not quite," he said. "We'll be sending a team over to examine things more closely."
The concierge seemed both interested and disappointed in equal measure at that announcement.
"Tell me, who cleans the building?"
"We have contractors for the communal areas as well as for the exterior."
"Windows and corridors?" Janssen asked. The man nodded. "What about the apartments themselves."
"We provide a service for those who require it. Some owners choose to have their own staff but most use what we provide."
"Mr Bailey?" Janssen asked.
"They use ours, yes."
"When was it last cleaned?" Cassie asked.
The concierge thought on it. "I would have to check our records. The standard is for alternate days but that can be increased if requested."
"We will also need the names of all those who have access," Janssen said. "And no one is to go into that apartment until we give permission. Do you understand?"
"Absolutely."
"Were you working last night?"
"No. My shift ends along with our service at 7PM. I was here until then."
"What about Mr Bailey. Was he here when you left."
The concierge frowned as he sought to remember. Eventually, he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I couldn't say. I didn't see him leave but it is possible he slipped out while I was otherwise engaged."
"Okay, thank you. Do you have a number we can contact you on?" Janssen asked. "We'll let you know when our technicians are coming."
The concierge produced a business card from an internal pocket and passed it over. Janssen scanned it briefly. The name of the management company was emblazoned within a stylish crest and the man's title was listed as 'Facilities Manager'.
"Thank you, Mr Dixon," Janssen said, reading from the card.
"Please, call me Ewan," he said with a ready smile.
Janssen bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Ewan. We'll be in touch later." He jabbed his thumb in the air over his shoulder, indicating Bailey's apartment behind them. "No one goes in there, right?"
"Clear," Ewan said, bobbing his head affirmatively. Cassie pulled the door closed behind them and they headed for the lifts.
Once they reached the ground floor, they said goodbye and headed straight outside. Janssen turned and looked up at Devon Bailey's apartment. Cassie thrust her hands into her pockets, evidently feeling the cold breeze.
"What are you thinking?" she said, following his gaze up.
He met her eye. "What's a guy like that, flash, money… shady… doing spending so much time in Sheringham?"
"Doesn't seem like his type of place, does it?" she said, looking around. "Hiding from something or someone."
"That's a thought," he said, bracing against the breeze coming in off the sea. "He was going and then changed his plans at the last minute. What could have caused that?"
"You'd love it if the Kemp brothers had a hand in this wouldn't you?" Cassie said.
By her tone, he knew she was only half serious. It brought a smile to his face. He turned to leave, a black SUV catching his eye parked further along the street. It looked out of place somehow. It was a BMW, nearly new with privacy glass all round. The daytime running lights were on but he couldn't see anyone in the interior. Almost as if his attention had been noted the vehicle pulled out and drove away from them. Something had piqued his curiosity but he couldn't explain why.
"Tom?"
He turned. Cassie was looking at him expectantly.
"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked, realising he'd completely missed what she was talking about.
"I said, shall we go and get something to eat now?"
"Yeah, sure," he said, his gaze drifting back along the street as he struggled to shake the sense of unease. The BMW was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Ten
"I'm pretty certain this is our guy," Cassie said, drawing Janssen's attention. He rose from his seat in the ops room and crossed over to where she sat, chewing on a mouthful of the sandwich he'd bought on their way back to the station. Cassie angled the screen of her laptop so that he could see properly. The head shot was clearly recognisable as Devon Bailey. He was younger, clean shaven and somewhat thinner in the face and upper body but that was to be expected. "This was taken when he was arrested twenty years ago."
"What for?" Janssen said, swallowing the last of his mouthful and touching the back of his hand to his mouth.
"It was an arrest for assault. He was involved in an altercation outside a central London nightclub. The victim was admitted to hospital with multiple injuries and Bailey was arrested a couple of days later along with a number of others."
Cassie sat back in her seat, reaching for the coffee cup next to her laptop. It was still warm and she cupped both hands around it.
"An arrest for assault doesn't exactly make him gangster number one," Janssen said, his eyes scanning the detail on the screen in search of more.
To Cassie, he sounded disappointed. She sipped at her drink while he turned and perched himself on the edge of her desk, folding his arms across his chest.
"It doesn't, you're right. However, reading through the investigating officer's notes, there was a suggestion that the attack was motivated by gang affiliation."
Janssen met her eye, the disappointment dissipating as she spoke. He encouraged her to go on and she sat forward, opening another tab on the screen.
"From what I've been able to find out about him, Devon Bailey was something of a tearaway from his early teens. He was excluded from the high school he graduated from on several occasions and expelled from two others prior to that. He was on our radar from the age of thirteen. He has multiple arrests throughout his teenage years and into his twenties, ranging from his first arrest for theft, then receiving and burglary. Throw in a peppering of offences for violence and you see a developing picture."
Janssen's brow furrowed as he thought hard. "Sounds like a pattern of escalation to me."
Cassie agreed. "He was moving up the ranks, starting small and building a reputation for himself."
"You said they figured the assault was gang related?"