An Intangible Pattern - Fate Bound.

A break in the case

Officer Yates knocked on the door  and went in.
Detective Inspector Howell had his feet on the desk, leaning back in his chair.
“Were you sleeping?” asked Yates apologetically.
“No…” sighed Howell wearily, lowering his feet from the desk and swinging forward in his chair, “...just resting my eyes.”
“I made more coffee. There was a call in from the MET, I said I'd get you to call them back”
“Yeah? What did they want?”
“They found Jeremy Cameron. Dead.”
Howell was suddenly alert. He immediately leaned over his desk and lifted the phone off the handset, all the while scrambling around his desk for a notepad, “Have you got the extension?”
“Yeah, here.” Yates dropped a scrap of paper in front of him.
Howell listened impatiently to the dial tone as he opened his laptop and began to type an incident number into CRIS. He motioned Yates over to sit next to him as he identified himself to Inspector on the other side.
“Good afternoon, is that Detective Inspector Jamieson? This is Detective Inspector Howell. I believe you tried to reach me earlier this afternoon?”
“Yes. Have you had time to look over the Incident report?”
“I'm looking at it now.”
Howell scanned through the crime scene photographs. It wasn't pretty. 
“Are you sure this is Mr Cameron?” He asked, scrutinising the images of the ruined corpse lying in a pool of dark, dry blood.  Where Jeremy's face should have been, there was a gory mass of mangled flesh. A gunshot had blown open his skull and his face had been gnawed by rodents, indicating that Jeremy had lain there for some time
“Pretty sure. We were able to identify him from a passport and tattoos on his back and forearm. We're still waiting for the lab to confirm, but I thought it better to let your team know as soon as possible."
“Any leads?”
“Not yet. we’re still waiting for forensics. Though we did find fake passports. Good ones. I'm not ruling out a professional hit.”
“I see. Who found him?”
“The call came in from a payphone, a bunch of teenagers by the sounds of things, but they didn't stick around, just gave the address and ran off.”
Howell grimaced, “That will be a few sleepless nights I imagine.”
“Yeah. We reckon he's been there for a month at least, but it could be longer. It was a cold winter.”
“CCTV? Witnesses?”
“We're working on it, but it's a derelict building and it's been empty for a long time: there's a few cameras but no patrol.”
“The last sighting we had of him was in October. I'd check the last four months, it seems like the sort of place he would lie low. He had sustained injuries to his nose and eye socket. I don't know if there's much left of his face, but if you can, take a look at the fractures: it might give you an idea how long after our incident he was killed. Bare in mind he's an alpha, they heal quicker than most.”
“That's a good idea. Do you have any ideas who would want him dead?”
“Well, if you're right and this was an organised hit, then I do have someone in mind. Someone with deep pockets. Can you let me know as soon as you have confirmation from forensics. I'll start processing a search warrant now. I don't want to waste any time.”
“I will. Thankyou for getting back to me so quickly.”
“No problem.”
Howell hung up the phone, his demeanor lively with renewed determination.
“We’ve got an in! There might be just enough probable cause to sieze Dr Courentin’s electronics. If we can convince them that we're looking for evidence he orchestrated this murder, we can look for links to formula 52 as well.”
“I don't know… do we have enough?” frowned Yates dubiously, handing Howell his coffee.
“I think it will be good enough.” He accepted the cup and adjusted his seat, eyes flicking left to right intently as he absorbed the details of the case.