No stone unturned

Chasing the clown

Quiet night so far, isn’t it?

Yeah an’ we’ve still got seven hours to go before the shift finishes.

The two uniformed officers in the night duty patrol car were chatting whilst driving past a council estate in Georgia, and all was quite I the residential street, in contrast to the numerous clubs, bars, restaurants and buzzing nightlife, just down the road. And so the van bearing the logo kiddies party dates stood out as it failed to give way for a pedestrian waiting at the zebra crossing.

Is he on another planet? Said the officer driving.

Bit late for kiddies party his colleague joked. Go pull him over, we’ve nothing better to do at the moment.

As they drew closer the van driver began to accelerate.

Away from them and suddenly, without indicating, took a sharp left down a side street.

He’s trying to avoid us. Turn the blues and twos on, said the officer at the wheel as he sped after the van and turned into the side street. ‘Where’s he disappeared to? There’s no way he would have made it to the other end of the road without us seeing him.

As the police car moved slowly down the street they saw the van parked up between two cars with its lights off. On their approach the driver ducked down, seemingly avoiding their headlights, and the officers could clearly see the van’s logo silhouetted in the patrol car’s blue flashing light:

A van with balloons and a clown head painted on the side.

My kids would run a mile if they saw that bloody clowns face, said the officer driving as he pulled up in the middle of the road, give me the creeps I wouldn’t hire them….

He got out and walked casually towards the driver, shining his torch into the van, and tapped on the window, indicating for the woman to open it. As the window was slowly lowered the driver put up s hand to shield her face.

Leave the keys in the ignition and step out of the vehicle please.

Why?

Because I’ve asked you to and you’re acting suspiciously.

The driver suddenly grabbed the ignition keys and tried to start the van. The officer yanked open the door, pulled the woman’s hand away from the keys and dragged her out of the vehicle while his partner, seeing what was happening, hurried out of the patrol car to help.

Hands where I can see them’.

I was just having a rest. I’ve been working all afternoon.

The officer quickly had the driver face down on the pavement with her hands cuffed behind her back while they patted her down, discovering a worn leather wallet, which contained a few five-pound notes and a library card in the name of Sara Linton.

Just stay still Ms Linton. Is that your name?

‘yeah, Sara Linton.’

Linton didn’t argue, but remained calm, as one officer pulled her up from the pavement and pressed her against the side of the van, while his partner returned to the patrol car to check on its registration plates and the identity of its driver.

‘You’ve been working, you say?’

‘yeah’.

‘Do you live round here?’

Linton straightened and half turned. The officer pushed her in the small of his back.

‘just stay where you are. This shouldn’t take long.’

‘Damn’

‘this your van, is it?’

‘it belongs to a friend. I just help him out.’

It turned out that the van was neither insured nor registered to Linton, and the MOT was out of date. The control room radio operator informed them that there had been a number of overnight break-ins in the area, leading the officers to suspect that Linton might be involved and could be using the vehicle to carry stolen property.

‘why were you trying to avoid us?’ asked the police driver.

‘I wasn’t. I didn’t even see you. I’ve parked up here cos its near home.’

‘What’s in the back of the van?’

‘For f**k’s sakes, just party gear, balloons, pumps and stuff like that’, Linton replied, becoming noticeably more agitated as she tried to turn towards the officers.

‘So we wont find any nicked gear then’?

‘No way’, Linton said as she suddenly started to gasp for breath and mutter something inaudible as one officer started to walk to the rear of the van.

The officer opened the back door of the van and leaned forward with his torch the suddenly jumped back startled as a helium balloon with the grotesque clown’s face on it wafted almost mockingly out of the van. Composing himself he continued his search, making out a number of cardboard boxes with something large wrapped in black bin liners between them.

The officer leaned in closer so he could reach the edge of the bin liner without getting into the van. He pulled at it gently, then gave it a hard yank, at which part of the bin liner came away easily. The beam of his torch fell on what appeared to be matted blond hair covered in wet blood.

Cautiously he leaned further forward and pulled away more of the bin liner. Now he realized that what he was looking at was multiple body parts seem to be of a woman.

Easing himself from the van, he radioed for immediate backup, before turning back to his fellow officer and Linton.

‘well, well, Linton’, he said. ‘what sort of party have you been to tonight?’

During the journey to Atlanta police station Linton stopped muttering, even appearing to accept her situation in a resigned, offhanded manner, and on arrival was booked in just after midnight on Friday, 12 October 2012.

She said that she was thirty-eight and had no permanent address because she was living rough. She was given a clean police-issue tracksuit to wear, then after her DNA sample and fingerprints were taken Linton was allowed to speak with the duty solicitor on the phone, who advised her to say nothing and informed her that Trey Callahan would attend the station in the morning to represent her. Linton was then placed in a cell for the night. She asked for a cup of tea, but made no reference to why she had been arrested.