Special Unit- The Mean Streets of London: Chapter 1

[Silent Hunter]

(OOC Thread)

Monday 14 July 2008, 0600 British Summer Time

The sun was ascending over the most populous city in Western Europe and there was barely a cloud in the sky.

This, for a murder detective, was not a good sign. The city of London was into day three of a heatwave and the temperatures were expected to go above 30 degrees Celsius. It is a fact that hot weather leads to an increase in violence.

It was also only two weeks before the schools broke up for the six-week summer holiday. That could cause problems.

Detective Chief Inspector Alexandra "Alex" Carlton got out of her bed, kissed her husband and got ready for work. She was an attractive white woman with peroxide blonde hair and a rather nice smile.

Attempting to balance practicality with the desire not to be too revealing for her job, she went for a white trouser suit with a pale blue blouse underneath.

She made her breakfast- porridge and a couple of slices of buttered toast and started the walk towards Basildon station.

Basildon, a large town just outside the M25 motorway that surrounded London, was most famous for the 1992 Conservative election win there, that had become a clear indicator of John Major's survival as PM. Now it was a Labour seat.

Basildon was on the c2c railway line that ran from Shoeburyness via Tilbury or Upminster to London Fenchurch Street. For a while, that line had been known as "The Misery Line", but had improved considerably.

She grabbed the first train that was heading for London. Her plan for the day was clear. She'd arrive at Limehouse, change to the DLR and get off at King George V stop for Special Unit HQ. As head of Special Unit Bravo, she was part of a team dealing with high-profile crimes in the Greater London area.

The Class 357 Electrostar, like most of the trains that ran north of the river Thames in London, was an electric multiple unit, powered by an overhead wire. There were 3 four-car units in this train, calling all stations to London Fenchurch Street.

The train stopped at Laindon and West Horndon without incident, then Upminster. It was at Barking things were different.

Barking, located in the London Borough of Barking and Dagenham, had once been part of Essex and in many ways still considered itself as such. The station was an interchange, being the start of the Hammersmith & City Line, a stop on the District Line and the terminus for part of the London Overground service.

She was reading her newspaper, waiting at Barking when two gunshots rang out from the vicinity of Platform One. She got up instantly and ran across the footbridge to that area. She saw a white man running away down the tracks and mount the fence on the northern side. She didn't get a look at him.

Lying on the railway tracks was a young black man with a shaved head, a white T-shirt and a tattoo. He also had two bullet holes- both in his chest.

She jumped down off the platform to try and save him, but it was clear that it was too late.

He uttered one word...

"Stechkin..."

then his eyes closed. The paramedics arrived in six minutes, but he was pronounced dead at the scene.

As the Transport Police started to close off the scene, she texted the other members of her team.

Murder. Barking Station. Get here now. Carlton

(OOC: Everybody else will be heading for Special Unit HQ when they get the text message).

[Hairb]

When Luc got the message, he was in his apartment on Chalton Street, about to begin his daily meditation session. He read it, sighed, and wolfed down two slices of toast. Tea would have to wait. After changing into his work clothes, he climbed into his Mini and drove to Barking train station through the traffic he had hoped to avoid. It was almost 0800 by the time he arrived at Platform 1.

Working his way through the crowd of onlookers and Transport Police, DC Gainsbourg looked for DCI Carlton, spotting her after a few confusing moments.

Luc
"Sorry I took so long, Ma'am. What's the latest news?"

[Voshkod]

Thump . . . thump . . . thump . . . . Talcum powder flew up in a white cloud around the heavy bag. Ian Tattershall was working the bag hard, jabbing, punching, throwing the occasionally roundhouse. He was in his own place now, a red place, and the bag was the target, flickering with the faces of . . . .

Deedle deedle deedle dee! His cell started to chirp. With a grunt he pulled himself back to the here and now, read the message. "Good. 'fraid it was going to be a boring day," he muttered to himself. A quick shower and coffee breakfast later he was on the way to Barking in his ill-fitting suit.

Ian shouldered his way through the gathering crowd, plowing a path. He flashed his badge to the transport cops setting up the perimeter and approached his boss.

"Morning Ma'am, Gainsbourg. Who's our corpse?"

[Silent Hunter]

Carlton had got a change of clothes- there had been quite a bit of blood.

"Dead guy is Jomo Smith. Jamaican national, in this country on a work permit, ostensibly for construction work for the Olympics. Suspicions of involvement in gang activity.

Last word was strange. Steckhin, or something like that. Sounds Russian. I speak the language, but I can't remember what it means.

Apparently some white guy shot him on the platform. Could be racially motivated".

Which was just what they needed, especially in this area.

[MrEdwardNigma]

Murder.

Alvin was exited. Carlton hadn't bothered sending him any specifics, she never did. Detective Chief Inspector Langley, her predecessor, had done much better as far as Alvin was concerned. He had been in the habit of calling up Alvin personally and giving him all the details. Well, all the details the Inspector had noticed, off course. As soon as Alvin would arrive at the scene he'd usually find about double the amount of clues the inspector had found, even though Alvin always arrived last and he'd given the other medics plenty of time to mess about with the corpse.

Alvin "The Flash" Cramer was bound to be late now too. He was stuck in traffic, and not likely to get unstuck soon. People said Alvin was crazy for driving to work in a city like London, but Alvin didn't mind the traffic jams. He took a sip from the juicebox he was holding. He needed the vitamins at his age. 62 going on 63. Perhaps he should retire this year?

He messaged Carlton, his skilled, bony fingers darting over the buttons of his cellphone.

Any details about the murder? Cause of Death? Peculiarities?

[Silent Hunter]

Carlton received the text and sent back a reply to Dr. Cramer.

GSW. Two shots. Something about a Stechkin

.

[Hairb]

DC Gainsbourg made a sour face.

"And if it were gang movitated, Ma'am, things would hardly be any better. We could be seeing reprisal attacks in that case too. How solid are his gang links?"

[Silent Hunter]

DC Gainsbourg made a sour face.

"And if it were gang movitated, Ma'am, things would hardly be any better. We could be seeing reprisal attacks in that case too. How solid are his gang links?"

Carlton sipped a water bottle. It was 25 and getting hot.

"Nothing that would stand up in court, but probable. Kingston- the one in Jamaica- have a file on him, as do the Scorpions in South Africa.

Plenty of witnesses, but I suspect many will turn out to have been in the toilet".

She inwardly sighed. She needed people to come forward, ideally. CCTV would have to do.

[Voshkod]

"Yardies against the Mafiya? That wouldn't make for a good week now, would it?" Ian started to walk over toward the fence the shooter had vaulted, checking the ground carefully.

[MrEdwardNigma]

"Gunshots?" Alvin said. He seemed dissapointed. Gunshots were hardly ever that interesting, though he could remember that case five years ago when a man had made a gun out of a steering wheel lock that could fire bits of metal that looked like simple shrapnel. That was quite the case.

Dr. Alvin Cramer carefully took his laptop from the backseat of the car and put it onto the seat next to him. He quickly accessed the internet and looked up "Stechkin" in several of the more reliable search engines. He also looked it up in the police files and several other special databases. Maybe it matched a criminal. Or maybe not...

Stechkin APS (Avtomaticheskiy Pistolet Stetchkina, Russian: Автоматический Пистолет Стечкина) is a Russian selective-fire machine pistol. It bears the name of its developer, Igor Stechkin.

The gun with which the man was shot? It seemed likely. Traffic was still not moving. He sent Carlton another message, although she really should have figured it out by now.

Stechkin is a gun. I'll bet the bullets match. Strange last words.

[Hairb]

Luc paused a moment.

"It occurs to me, Ma'am, that Stechkin might be a name. We should certainly check the files to see if there are any Stechkin's involved in gang activity here."

Carefully checking where he walked so as not to disturb any evidence, Luc moved closer to where the young man had been shot to try and make sense of the scene.

[Silent Hunter]

"Yardies against the Mafiya? That wouldn't make for a good week now, would it?" Ian started to walk over toward the fence the shooter had vaulted, checking the ground carefully.

Ian saw footprints on the dry ground. They were a pair of trainers, but nothing spectacular.
----
"That might be an idea. No, now I remember. Stechkin is the name of a firearm. It's a Russian machine pistol", Carlton responded.

The man had clearly been pushed onto the track. He looked slightly stoned- had he been alive.

He was wearing some gold jewellery. There were no indications of robbery.

"Luc, get the CCTV, please", she asked.

[MrEdwardNigma]

"That might be an idea. No, now I remember. Stechkin is the name of a firearm. It's a Russian machine pistol", Carlton responded.

((Did she just take credit for Alvin's imput? ))

[Silent Hunter]

((Did she just take credit for Alvin's imput? ))

((OOC: No, she figured it out before she got the text message. SMS is by no means an instant process)).

[Hairb]

"Yes, Ma'am."

Luc headed over to the Stationmaster's Office to inquire about the CCTV footage. Something troubled him about moments of rapid change like this... until the overseas leads were investigated, next of kin consoled and interviewed, pleas for information made, everything would remain so... yes... up in the air. He remembered his cup of tea, now certainly stone cold back at home. This was not the start to the week he had wanted.

[Silent Hunter]

"Yes, Ma'am."

Luc headed over to the Stationmaster's Office to inquire about the CCTV footage. Something troubled him about moments of rapid change like this... until the overseas leads were investigated, next of kin consoled and interviewed, pleas for information made, everything would remain so... yes... up in the air. He remembered his cup of tea, now certainly stone cold back at home. This was not the start to the week he had wanted.

The Stationmaster was waiting in the office, holding the CD in her hand.

She was dressed in the c2c uniform and had a smile on her face.

"You a copper?" she asked.

[Voshkod]

Ian pulled a small piece of yellow tape out and marked the footprints for later analysis. He snapped a few pictures, and then went carefully to the fence, looking for snagged fabric or, even better, snagged flesh. Nice rusty fence, hurried shooter, might be some blood here.

[Hairb]

"Indeed, Ma'am. DC Gainsbourg. I'm with Special Unit."

Luc showed her his ID.

"We will be requiring this morning's security footage, all of it. Also, the names of those staff member's on duty at the time of the shooting. Were you yourself present?"

[Silent Hunter]

"Indeed, Ma'am. DC Gainsbourg. I'm with Special Unit."

Luc showed her his ID.

"We will be requiring this morning's security footage, all of it. Also, the names of those staff member's on duty at the time of the shooting. Were you yourself present?"

"I've got the discs and the security log here. I've also got something very helpful".

Behind her, he could see a printer working.

"That's a list of all the Oyster card users this morning. I think the guy might have used his own Oyster card. A registered one".

The Oyster pre-paid fare payment system had been a valuable help in crime-solving. Those with the Oyster card often had their name and address on it.

[MrEdwardNigma]

((OOC: No, she figured it out before she got the text message. SMS is by no means an instant process)).

((Really? Don't we have some kind of better equipment, being the special forces and all? Instantaneous communication is very important, after all. Also, I assume I found no mention of a criminal, case or an organisation called Stechkin anywhere, right?))

Alvin had accessed the CCTV tapes from his computer ((which, I believe, is possible as an authorized officer, correct?)) and had them spinning in a loop on his screen now. He had also opened a second window where he could see what was currently going on. He took another sip from his juicebox as he turned on the police radio. An armed man fleeing in a city like London? There might be some buzz about that.

As he manoeuvred through traffic, Alvin's other hand quickly sent two more messages. The first to Carlton, the other to some of his informants.

Forward details, please. TXT or email, either is fine.

Any Stechkin sales lately? I even need intell on the minor ones. You know there's a decent pay in it, boys.

[Silent Hunter]

Ian pulled a small piece of yellow tape out and marked the footprints for later analysis. He snapped a few pictures, and then went carefully to the fence, looking for snagged fabric or, even better, snagged flesh. Nice rusty fence, hurried shooter, might be some blood here.

There was a bit of ripped denim on the barbed wire fence.

[Hairb]

"Thank you very much. Now the other staff, they are all still on duty, yes?"

[Silent Hunter]

((Really? Don't we have some kind of better equipment, being the special forces and all? Instantaneous communication is very important, after all. Also, I assume I found no mention of a criminal, case or an organisation called Stechkin anywhere, right?))

Alvin had accessed the CCTV tapes from his computer ((which, I believe, is possible as an authorized officer, correct?)) and had them spinning in a loop on his screen now. He had also opened a second window where he could see what was currently going on. He took another sip from his juicebox as he turned on the police radio. An armed man fleeing in a city like London? There might be some buzz about that.

As he manoeuvred through traffic, Alvin's other hand quickly sent two more messages. The first to Carlton, the other to some of his informants.

((OOC: You do have radios and mobiles, of course. You are Special Unit, which are special cops, but not Special Forces. You aren't a SWAT unit. The radios are at HQ, though. Good point, I'll remember that. You can telephone on your mobile, just make sure you use a hands-free kit when driving.

As for CCTV, you do have access to the rail network ones.

No criminals called Stechkin, bar a guy in prison for benefit fraud.))

Carlton rang him back.

"Flash, it's the DCI. The guy is a Jamaican. Name of Jomo Smith. Possible gang connections. Shot twice and shoved onto the tracks in the process. That platform is non-electrified, so COD was gunshot wound".

She paused to get his response.

[Silent Hunter]

"Thank you very much. Now the other staff, they are all still on duty, yes?"

"Yes, but they didn't see much. Most of them are at the barrier or in the ticket office", the Stationmaster replied.

She had a wedding ring on her finger.

"You gonna get these guys, OK? I want my kids to sleep safe at night".

[Hairb]

"We'll do our best, Ma'am. Thankyou again."

Seeing his DCI busy on the phone, Luc went back over to where his Mini was parked and grabbed the street directory off the passenger seat, before returning to the scene of the crime. Looking up his present location, he took note of the streets north of the trainline. Residential, for the most part, with a school further north along Longbridge Rd.

"Ma'am, a moment? If the gunman headed north, he must have passed through at least one whole street of houses. If we had an idea of what he looked like, then surely, somebody could identify our man. A child on the way to school, perhaps?"

He ran the next thought carefully through his mind before speaking.

"Unless, of course, our gunman is already at home. Right under our noses."

((OOC: Street data from Google Maps))

[MrEdwardNigma]

((Wait, wait, we don't have access to police radio in out cars?!! Even regular patrol cars have that!))

"Jomo Smith? How did you figure that out so fast, Alex? I'm impressed. I assume the gunshots blew him onto the tracks, yes? Please don't move anything about. I'm quite stuck in traffic right now, but I'll be there soon to analyze the crime scene. Have them forward the photos to my laptop though"

Alvin pauzed briefly to take a turn right.

"Traffic seems to be getting better. Say, inspector, why are we working on this case? It seems rather low profile to me, and the COD is a bit common, isn't it? It's likely to be just a drug deal gone wrong. Small scale stuff, you know. Not that I'm excluding any possibilities"

Alvin quickly typed in Jomo Smith's name and ran a similar search for him on his laptop. He was hoping his contacts would answer soon. Things would be easier if they could identify the gun.

[Voshkod]

There was a bit of ripped denim on the barbed wire fence.

Ian bagged it and tagged it for that medical boffin to look it, then started striding back over toward the DCI. Tattershall was a big man, over two meters, and bulky. The body of a fighter with, sadly, the face of one as well. Jagged features with a prominent scar. He moved with some grace, though, perhaps like a large cat.

"Ma'am, got some footprints and some fabric, maybe from our suspect."

[OOC: If you're looking for the right physical look, think Commander Corder from the BBC House of Cards trilogy. That's also a good example of his mental state as well.]

[Silent Hunter]

((Wait, wait, we don't have access to police radio in out cars?!! Even regular patrol cars have that!))

"Jomo Smith? How did you figure that out so fast, Alex? I'm impressed. I assume the gunshots blew him onto the tracks, yes? Please don't move anything about. I'm quite stuck in traffic right now, but I'll be there soon to analyze the crime scene. Have them forward the photos to my laptop though"

Alvin pauzed briefly to take a turn right.

"Traffic seems to be getting better. Say, inspector, why are we working on this case? It seems rather low profile to me, and the COD is a bit common, isn't it? It's likely to be just a drug deal gone wrong. Small scale stuff, you know. Not that I'm excluding any possibilities"

Alvin quickly typed in Jomo Smith's name and ran a similar search for him on his laptop. He was hoping his contacts would answer soon. Things would be easier if they could identify the gun.

((You do, but you haven't heard anything- yet... I think we're getting confused timeline wise and I suggest that we post the current time in our posts. You obviously left straight away, but Carlton was preoccupied- and there was a delay on the text, especially with a lot of people texting their relatives.

Sorry, I never got to this stage on the old site...))

0809

The police radio was mostly, at the moment, to do with crime scene discussions and some checks. The man had gone to ground, or so it seemed.

The search pulled up the fact that Jomo Smith had been a DJ at a club in Forest Gate called Echo Seven, but had been sacked for unspecified reasons.

"Driver's licence and a quick computer check", Carlton responded.

" We're working this case because of location- the guy was shot in a train station, in front of thirty witnesses. It's possibly racially motivated".

Luc arrived, describing the route.

"Good point, we'll get a door to door going".

They were both interrupted by their radios. There was an armed robbery going on at the Vicarage Shopping Centre, close to Barking station. Suspect description sounded like their man.

Carlton turned to Ian and Luc.

"You heard that?"

She grabbed her radio.

"Come with me".

With that, she broke into a run for the shopping centre.

[Hairb]

Luc shoved the files, the list and his street directory in the hands of a nearby Traffic Police constable and pointed in Ian's direction.

"Give this to him, OK?" he shouted, and then took off after Carlton. Within seconds, the oppressive summer warmth began to take its toll on him. Events were unfolding much faster than he could account for.

[MrEdwardNigma]

08:10

"Send some men over to the robbery, Alex. I'm of no use there, so I'll head for the crime scene instead and take over. Besides, traffic is hell today anyways. I've got a lead on Jomo as well, I might check that out later today, if nothing comes up. God speed, Alex"

Alvin hung up, unless the Detective Chief Inspector had something else to say. This guy was going on a crime spree. Likely either a doped up degenerate, an escaped criminal or a recent immigrant. There was a chance though this was all part of a larger plan, set to go take place today. If that was the case, Alvin would have to work fast. He pulled out the siren, placed it on top of his car and turned it on. He liked a slow drive to work, but when the need arose he could manage to hurry up a bit. Alvin floored it.