‘Obviously, I will need a copy of the photographs so I can conduct my interpretation, but I think it’s safe to conclude that no one could survive that amount of blood loss,’ Derek said.
‘The lack of blood spatter is leading me to initially conclude that perhaps the body was covered with something during the attack. I’d hazard a guess, having witnessed the extreme chemiluminescence from what appears to be the head area, that the victim has sustained a fatal head injury. The drag marks would suggest whatever he has been wrapped in has then been used to convey him to the dump site.
‘Once the rest of the flat has been examined, I suggest we repeat the luminol process throughout, and this will at least give us some indication as to whether the body has been removed via the front or back door.’
Derek tugged at his face mask, breathing heavily in the heat of the small flat. ‘Common sense dictates the rear door would have offered the murderer more privacy, but obviously we need that confirmation. It may also provide us with additional footwear marks, so we can interpret the number of people involved.
‘I’ve had a cursory look in the bathroom and noticed some diluted bloodstains in the bathroom sink, which will need marking up later. There’s no sign of a towel in there, so I assume our suspect, or suspects, have washed their hands and taken the towel with them. Obviously, I will return tomorrow and examine the rest of the flat further in accordance with your strategy, Kym. I’ll bring one of my subordinates to assist and speed up the process.’
‘Thank you for your input, Derek, much appreciated as always,’ Kym said. ‘Right, I think it’s time we call it a day. Ewan, Ushra, thanks for your help. Elaine and Maya, I know it’s been a long day for you ladies. Chris is on the late shift this evening and I’ve asked him to update your exhibits onto the database. So, get yourselves back and straight home. I’m going to amend the forensic strategy based on what we’ve seen today. We’ll look at recommencing at nine in the morning.’
Efficient as ever, Kym left the flat with Derek Billing following her. He made several attempts to engage her in conversation while they wrestled out of their scene suits, but Kym dismissed him with brusque, one-word answers before finally announcing she needed to head back to Beech Field so she could brief the DCI on their findings so far.
Derek watched her go. ‘Oh my, what a woman,’ he said as he ran his hand across his head, flattening his hair down then wiping his face as if smoothing his whiskers. He watched Kym drive away from the scene with a lecherous grin on his face. Maya and Elaine exchanged a smirk, bid farewell to the lab technicians and after signing out of the scene log, headed back to the station. Both of them wondered when and where Ryan Johnson’s body would be found.
44
Arriving at work the next morning, there were even more vehicles in the car park than the previous day. Maya wondered if this meant there had been a development in the Ryan Johnson investigation. This was confirmed by the fact that Chris, who should have been on a midday shift, was already in the office. He looked tired and in need of a shave. A pot of untouched porridge was on the next desk to his elbow.
‘Got a job on?’ Maya said, as she switched on the kettle.
‘Yes, love. Ryan Johnson’s body was found last night. The search teams were about to call it a day, but he was spotted in the waterway at the back of his flat. He’d been wrapped in tarpaulin as well as a large bedsheet and weighed down with bricks and covered in shrubbery and whatnot. His PM is scheduled for later on, so I thought I’d stay with it as I recovered him last night.’
‘What condition is he in?’ Maya asked as she lowered herself into the chair next to Chris.
‘He’s relatively well preserved, probably due to the fact he’s been wrapped up like a Christmas present, so nothing’s had a chance to nibble on him. From the neck down, he’s barely got a scratch other than a few defence wounds to his hands. His head has been smashed to smithereens, cracked open like an egg, poor bastard.’ Chris shook his head sadly and Maya felt for him, he’d certainly had his fair share of bodies in all the years he’d worked as a SOCO.
‘You not eating your breakfast?’ she asked, nodding at the porridge.
‘Nah, can’t face it, love. Looks like bloody baby food. I’ll pick up a sausage-and-bacon sandwich on the way to the mortuary.’ He smiled, brightening up at the thought.
‘Here, I’ll get the scene photos ready from last night to show you.’
They were soon joined by Amanda, Elaine, Kym and Nicola. They all gathered around to study the photographs of Ryan Johnson.
Looking at the heavy staining on the sheet that had covered him, it appeared that Derek Billing’s observation that he had been covered up during the attack was correct. The back of Ryan’s skull had been smashed open, revealing part of his brain, which resembled a jellified cauliflower. His face was swollen and protruding as the impact of the head injury had caused his features to engorge.
Everyone remained silent as Chris flicked through the series of images. Even someone with his and Elaine’s length of service, were still saddened at the loss of such a healthy young person having had their life snubbed out by an act of sheer, mindless violence.
Maya shuddered at the sight and found herself thinking how glad she was it wasn’t Spence that she was looking at. She was glad he wasn’t mixed up in the same kind of circles as Ryan Johnson had been. She would have been devastated to think of him ending up like that.
Kym returned to her office and everyone began preparing for the day. The silence was interrupted by the arrival of DCI Chambers.
‘Good morning, is Kym available? I have an update and I also need to take another look at the scene photos of Johnson,’ she said, as brusque and efficient as ever.
Kym emerged from her office and gestured towards the door.
‘Do you want to come in, ma’am?’
Chambers smiled. ‘It’s okay thanks, Kym. I have an update I can share with your team. The early phone analysis has come back from the digital forensic unit. Johnson had an app on his phone relating to the fitness tracker we assume he was wearing. The data from that app shows an increase in heart rate at approximately 1900 hours on the twenty-first of July which was five days ago.’
Everyone was silent as they processed the new information, until Elaine tentatively raised a hand like a nervous schoolgirl.
‘Forgive me, ma’am, but could you elaborate a bit further? I’m not up to speed with all these apps and technology. You’re speaking to someone who is still blown away by the fact you can spell out “boobies” on the upside-down screen of a calculator.’
Chris and Maya howled with laughter as Kym shook her head disparagingly at Elaine.
‘In basic terms, we think the fitness tracker may have provided us with a time of death. It’s all circumstantial at this stage still, but we think the increase in heart rate occurred during the attack on Johnson. Following this, the app hasn’t recorded any other movement or heart-rate data,’ Chambers said.
‘It’s the modern-day equivalent of a stopped-watch scenario from Agatha Christie’s day,’ Maya suggested.
‘Exactly,’ Chambers said, smiling at her.
‘Here we go, ma’am, I assume this is what you needed to know.’ Chris swivelled the computer monitor towards DCI Chambers and Kym also leant towards the screen. The close-up of Ryan Johnson’s right hand displayed a black fitness tracker strapped to his wrist.
‘Perfect.’ Chambers nodded. ‘Thank you, Chris. We’re having a briefing in thirty minutes,’ she said to Kym before leaving the office.
‘I’m going to accompany you to the PM after the briefing,’ Kym said to Chris. ‘Ladies, ring me on my mobile with any updates from the flat,’ she said, addressing Maya and Elaine. ‘We’ve a lot to get through, people, so let’s go.’
With a clap, she headed back to her office.
45
Maya worked with Elaine a further three days at Ryan Johnson’s flat. The revised forensic strategy saw them painstakingly recover trace evidence, as we
ll as swabbing handles and light switches for DNA. Maya wrote out exhibit bags and updated Elaine’s scene notes. This way it took half the time, as the writing-up process took longer than physically recovering each piece of evidence.
They then turned their attention to swabbing and fingerprinting the beer cans in the lounge, as well as recovering cigarette ends from the ashtray in the kitchen. The pair also recovered various items of property, which were to be submitted to the lab for fingerprint treatment. They also considered items such as the post in the hallway, which could be chemically enhanced to reveal any latent footwear marks.
Certain materials were more suitable for chemical treatment to enhance any latent fingerprints, rather than being subject to conventional powdering techniques. The chemical treatment used depended on the nature and porosity of the material, but typically included ninhydrin, superglue or acid black. The lab technicians were as conversant in which type of chemical treatment to use, in the same way as the SOCOs knew which type of fingerprint powders to use on various substrates.
Between them, and with continued assistance from Ewan, Ushra, Derek Billing and his assistant, they combed every inch of the one-bedroom flat in search of evidence. Doctor Granger had concluded that death had been a result of blunt force trauma to the head and suspected a hammer was likely to have been used as a weapon, although they were yet to find it.
Maya had been pleased with how the examination had gone. She and Elaine worked well together, and she had learnt a lot from Derek Billing. Maya also gained invaluable experience into how Ewan and Ushra worked. She watched them use the high intensity light source to search for fingerprints on the walls of the flat and use acid black on various surfaces to further enhance areas of ridge detail.
As they were finishing up on the final day, Maya joined Ewan for a break and the two sat in the van while they shared a flask of lukewarm coffee. They were chatting about how long Ewan had been working in the lab, when she noticed his expression cloud over.
‘What’s the matter?’ Maya asked with concern.
‘Isn’t that him? The journalist that interviewed you after the Celeste Warren suicide?’ Ewan replied.
Maya turned to see the familiar sloping, pear-shaped figure. He was grinning in her direction.
‘Yep, that’s him. He’s been hanging around the last few days. I’ve been purposefully trying to avoid him, although he had the nerve to wave to me the other day, as if we were old friends. Dave “the bastard” Wainwright.’
Ewan snorted, before looking at Maya sympathetically. ‘I really felt for you when I saw that. It was a shit trick and to be fair, any one of us could have been caught out by him.’
‘Yeah, well, you live and learn,’ Maya said with a shrug.
‘According to the grapevine, Kym gave you a real bollocking for your sudden death conspiracy theory too.’
‘Ah, yes. Is that doing the rounds as much as my shame of talking to dead people?’
‘Afraid so. But the majority aren’t judging you unfairly. We’re all on the same team after all. You voiced your opinion which you’re entitled to do. And for what it’s worth, I agree with you. There is something strange about the last few sudden deaths we’ve had. I know none of them have appeared suspicious, but Karl Gorman, Jim Baron, Celeste Warren and more recently Geoffrey Doran, four of the force’s most notorious offenders have all died within weeks of each other. And you know what they say…’
‘There’s no such thing as coincidence in the cops,’ they chimed together.
‘What about this scene, Ryan Johnson. He was a known offender too. Who do you think killed him?’
‘Well, obviously they think he’s pissed off some of our local gang members during his time and so far, we’ve no one arrested, so who knows. And yeah, Ryan had a record but certainly wasn’t as notorious as the others and that’s really the only link I have between them all. I don’t know. I just feel like I’m going around in circles whenever I think about it.’
Maya frowned as she thought once again about the series of sudden deaths. ‘This Ryan Johnson job looks like a murder whereas the others have just been a classic case of sudden death. But there was something about the scene at Karl Gorman’s house which I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Just a stupid feeling more than anything. I attended the PM and Doctor Granger, who had also been at the scene, was adamant there was nothing suspicious about his death.
‘Tony Harwood from Alder Street attended Jim Baron’s death, but they’d pretty much called it non-suspicious by the time he arrived. My own mum, who’s a district nurse found him, for goodness’ sake. And you know Tony has been in the job nearly as long as Chris and Amanda, so with his experience, he would have picked up on something being wrong. Likewise, with Geoffrey Doran. Although bloody vicious, it would appear to be a random hit and run. But Celeste Warren’s death, I dunno. I mean it was obviously a suicide, but the note she left still strikes me as strange.’
‘How do you mean?’ Ewan said.
Maya went on to describe how she thought the crossing out and the wording seemed unusual. She stated she thought it was as if someone was dictating the note to Celeste, rather than it being something she had written spontaneously. She also explained about the glasses and how she had swabbed them for saliva and secured the note for further forensic testing.
‘Listen,’ Ewan said. ‘In view of the fact your DI is happy Celeste Warren’s death was suicide, they’re never going to agree to have those saliva swabs analysed for DNA. It would be a waste of money in view of the fact there is effectively no crime. And by rights, there’s nothing to justify me examining the note in the lab. But, maybe to satisfy our own curiosity, send her suicide note to me and I’ll treat it to see if any fingerprints come up.’
‘Really? I’d appreciate that, Ewan, but I don’t want you to get in any trouble,’ said Maya.
‘No problem at all. Like I said, I agree with you that these deaths seem suspicious. We’re just double-checking we’ve not missed any obvious clues. We can’t be criticised for that. And it’s not going to be a time-consuming job, so where’s the harm. Anyway, if we do get an ident off the note, it may be from whoever was with her just before she died. They may well provide us with an insight into Celeste’s mood and whether they thought she seemed depressed or out of sorts.’
‘So, either way we can ascertain whether it was the genuine suicide it seems to be or whether we are looking at a potential suspicious death. I feel like Scooby Doo on a mission for the truth,’ Maya said with a wry grin.
Ewan was about to reply until they both spotted Wainwright making his way along the scene tape towards them. He had his long lens positioned on the camera in the hope he could get a picture of them both in the van. Journalists always loved posting pictures of them in scene suits so they could caption it with exciting headlines such as ‘forensic experts combing the scene for evidence’.
‘Hoods up and masks back on,’ Ewan said, ‘let’s get back in the scene quick, Dave “the bastard’s” coming!’
46
Maya arrived home early Sunday evening feeling restless. Despite the long and exhausting hours she had worked at the scene, she couldn’t switch off and relax. The sudden sense of normality was in complete contrast to the intensity and pressure of working on a murder scene. This was one of the things that nobody had told her since she had trained to be a SOCO – how to readjust to her normal life after being exposed to such violence.
The extreme levels of concentration required under highly charged circumstances and tight deadlines was exhausting. On the few occasions she had grown weary and listless during the protracted examination, she recalled the images she had seen of Ryan Johnson’s shattered skull. This had been all the motivation she had needed to work with renewed vigour.
Maya had phoned Dominique and a forty-five-minute conversation with her mum had raised her spirits. But once she put the phone down the feeling of restlessness, loneliness even, returned. Normally, she’d relish the prospect o
f taking the bike for a ride on such a glorious evening, but it was at Dominique’s as Maya had borrowed her car and not had the chance to return it. Maya paced the flat, listlessly running her finger across work surfaces, checking for dust that she knew wouldn’t be there. Sighing, she flopped on the sofa and flicked through the TV channels, but the words and images bounced off her ineffectively. Muting the TV, she reached for a pad and pen and carefully wrote out each name in her neat, looping handwriting.
Karl Gorman
Jim Baron
Celeste Warren
Geoffrey Doran
She recalled her conversation with Ewan and their plan to have Celeste’s suicide note subject to chemical treatment. She circled Celeste’s name. Next, she drew a question mark alongside the other three names. She tapped the pen against her teeth as she thought hard. Muttering, she added Ryan Johnson to the list. The pen hovered next to his name as she deliberated over adding a question mark. Sighing, she scribbled lines through the writing before tossing the pad across the sofa. This was futile. Ryan Johnson had been a small-time crook who had been either unlucky or stupid enough to get involved with the nominals from Operation Chrysalis.
It was his involvement with the likes of Nowak and Donnelly that the Murder Investigation Team believed had resulted in his untimely death. But what if that MO was wrong and Maya was right all along about her sudden death theory. Could it be possible that Ryan Johnson was another victim? Would the discovery of his murderer provide a link to the other deaths? Ryan Johnson had been much younger than the others and was certainly no career criminal. Surely there had to be another common denominator that connected them all. But what, and how could she even begin to find out without ruffling feathers.
She was reaching into the fridge for a bottle of wine when a thought occurred to her. Before she even had time to think things through, she was changed, locking up her apartment and heading towards The Eagle. As she made her way through the door of the pub, her stomach lifted at the sight of Spence. He was idling against the bar scrolling on his mobile phone.
Definitely Dead Page 19