Amy Cooper Forever

by Craig Mullins

  “About an hour or so, they were quick due to the nature of the crime Ma’am.”

  “Can you give me your statement of events from when you got here – if you’re up to it?” She wanted to get as much information as possible while SOCO were gathering their evidence. She removed her note book and started to write as he talked.

  “I got a call at 8:15am at which time I was at Station Road filling station in Ormesby, the request was to attend the Belle Vista chalet park in Hemsby and to meet the manager at chalet sixteen. I responded that I would attend and after I finished fuelling I drove to the park. Once there–it was then 8:29am–the manager told me that he had had a complaint with this chalet, it was that morning at eight o’clock when the neighbouring holiday makers reported a strange smell coming from next door, the curtains were drawn so they couldn’t see in, they tried knocking but got no reply. The manager said he had checked the log and a couple had booked in the previous afternoon and paid cash. Mrs. Heart signed, but there was no record of them signing out. The manager explained that he was not on duty the previous day so never saw the couple. The receptionist has been contacted and is due to come in this morning. The manager told me that he had tried knocking but got no answer.

  I asked if he had the key for the chalet and before I asked him to unlock the door I requested that the onlookers go back into their accommodation. As the manager opened the door the smell hit me, and I instructed him to remain where he was, I shouted through the gap who I was and that I was coming in. On opening the door the scene before me was nothing like I had ever seen.” He was visibly shaken by what he had witnessed and D.I. Price knew this kid could be no more than his early twenties.

  “Take a breather son, we can carry on later if you’d like, you’re doing great.” She knew that rushing him would not get the information she wanted, her colleagues were prone to harass and belittle the uniformed officers but her approach always yielded better and more reliable intel.

  “No. it’s fine. I stood just inside the door and radioed in that I would need the coroner and SOCO here straight away. The body was on the breakfast bar about ten feet from the door, a quick glance around the room told me the layout consisted of the main living area, an ‘L’ shaped room with a kitchenette and the breakfast bar. Just inside the door to the left was a door leading to a bathroom, the door was open and I couldn’t see anyone in there, across the room were two further doors each leading to separate bedrooms

  . Again both doors were open, and the beds were both fully made. I took out my baton and was careful where I placed my feet, I wanted to secure the scene and make sure the perpetrator was no longer there.

  “Did you check the body to see if they needed help?” She was concerned that he may not have followed protocol.

  “No Ma’am, it was obvious that she was beyond help, you will see what I mean when you go in. After making sure the scene was secure I came out, I made a note of where I had been in the chalet and waited for the Coroner’s office to send someone and then for SOCO. While I waited I didn’t move from the chalet, I wanted to make sure no one else entered.” He finished, his face even paler than when she had arrived if that was possible.

  “You did everything you should have.” She flipped her notebook shut and walked into the tent where she was met by the lead Scene of Crime Officer, a genial man who she had worked with many times before, Ray Herbert was a stalwart of the department, he was dressed in full personal protective equipment, a Tyvek suit, gloves, overshoes and mask.

  “Hi Sian, there is a set of clothes there for you if you’d like to see the scene.” His familiarity with Sian had progressed over many years, the pair had shared many horrific scenes and he knew she would want to explore the scene for herself. Not that she didn’t trust his team, she felt that pictures never did the scene justice, she wanted to see, feel, smell and hear what the victim and perpetrator would have experienced. “I should warn you, this is one of the worst, hope you didn’t have a big breakfast this morning, though it looks like the perp had his own kind of feast.” He laughed as he replaced his mask and left her to don her clothes.

  Five minutes later she entered the chalet, she then understood the comment about her breakfast. A quick look showed three fully clad scene of crime officers going about collecting evidence. Her main focus was on the body laid out on the breakfast bar. Looking at the SOCO in the bathroom she asked “You finished with the body Ray?”

  “Yeh, it’s all yours, I should warn you it ain’t pretty.”

  “Thanks.” She walked over to the body, took out her notebook again, she started her scribbling once more. The body was female, probably late teens, naked. The chest was cut from stem to stern. The bones had been cut roughly with what she would guess were bolt cutters. The cracked and splintered bone ends told her that a saw hadn’t been used. There was no finesse, this was a hastily executed procedure.

  She noted that the cavity was missing one vital element–the heart–all other organs appeared to be intact, though the post mortem would confirm that. The girl was beautiful. The position of the body was such that two thirds of the body lay on the countertop, while the legs from the bottom down were hanging over the edge. She made a note in her book to ask the pathologist to check for sexual assault as the legs were splayed out. She turned to look at the opposite work surface and this was where the real horror was.

  Taking her time she scanned from one end to the other, a wooden chopping board with a ten inch cooks knife stained with blood, along with some pieces of meat. She thought to herself please don’t let that be the poor girl’s heart. Behind the chopping board were the skins of maybe half a dozen shallots and a block of butter with quarter missing. The butter had already melted and much of it had spread across the counter.

  Further inspection revealed some mushroom stalks, empty double cream container and an opened bottle of Madeira fortified wine. On the gas hob was a pan with congealed sauce and a couple of pieces of meat still in it. To the right of the hob a plate with a knife and fork neatly laid across it and the plate itself cleared of all food. “Ray, did what I think happen here really happen?” She didn’t want to admit to herself what she knew to be the truth.

  “It would appear so Sian, I’m no expert but the missing heart from the body and the remnants left on the board would indicate it. The sick bastard ate her heart, not just ate it but took the time to prepare a meal. And he came prepared, that knife is the best part of two hundred quid, and the pan is chef quality, what I don’t understand is the crude destruction of the rib cage with an unsuitable tool. You’ve taken the time to prepare the meal but you rush the butchering of the body, it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Hopefully the pathologist will be able to give us some more insight, anything I need to know about the sick bastard that might have done this?”

  “There are some partials but my guess is they’re the girls, none on the knife, cutlery or plate which would indicate he wore gloves. And why not take the knife and pan with him – was he disturbed?”

  “The manager said no complaints were made last night.” She pocketed her notebook and went back out into the tent where she disrobed and headed back out into the day. P.C. Thorne had been relieved by another young officer; she nodded to him as she passed. She was glad to be out of there, the warm summer breeze filled her lungs with clean air, the stench from the chalet was a mixture of the cooked meal and the coppery scent of blood. She hoped there would be plenty of trace evidence gathered as the sick bastard needed to be caught.

  There was no indication who the victim was, no I.D. was found at the scene, all they had to go on was her description, and until someone reported her missing there would be nothing more to do except find the man that perpetrated such a crime.

  TEN

  “What do you think Pinky? Should I do it?” Chef asked.

  “Why not, I know you can’t be paid for it but at least there will be a lasting record of your exploits, you never know it could lead to a spin off cooker
y book.” He laughed. “What time is she due here?”

  “Nine o’clock, they want me to do two three hour sessions, one this morning, then back in here for lunch, and another this afternoon. Apparently she’ll record the whole thing on video and take notes at the same time.”

  “Where will you have the interview?”

  “Boss man said it will take place in the old operating theatre, it’s the closest secure room. The camera will be set up when I get there and there will be a metal table bolted to the floor, to which I will be shackled both hands and feet. It won’t be the most comfortable experience but I get to spend six hours with a woman, I can imagine all the dishes I could make from her. And like you said the public will get to know me, and believe me there are more people that have my tastes than you might think. You only have to look at how popular my feast nights were, for every person sat at the table, twenty had been turned down.”

  “Why did you turn people down?”

  “Something about them wouldn’t feel right or I just didn’t like them, simple as that.”

  “Well I think you should do it, and enjoy it. Maybe spill a few names, I know you told me I would be surprised at some of the people that attended your meals, people whose names I would recognise.”

  “I always promised them that I would never reveal their identities.”

  “That was then, this is now, how many have visited, how many have tried to get you out, you owe them nothing.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

  It was eight thirty, with Chef gone at nine he should get quite a bit of writing done. He chatted with Chef for the next twenty-five minutes until two burly men came for him. They went through the usual ritual of securing his hands through the small hatch before they told him to move to the rear of the cell and face the wall. Once he had done as requested they unlocked the door and entered, while one attached another set of shackles to his ankles the other ran a chain between the two pairs. In less than five minutes Chef’s cell was empty and he would be gone for three hours.

  Pinky took his manuscript from his desk, along with his pencils and pads. He had forgotten he had abruptly finished half way through a chapter. He went over what he had already written and started at the last paragraph.

  I should probably explain at this point that I have a fear of heights, I know probably not the ideal venue for a first date, but we were here now and there was no going back. With a bit of luck Amy wouldn’t be keen on heights either, plus we had the animals to look at too. We went up to the booth to pay and Amy said she would get us both a ticket as her mum and dad had given her plenty of money. But like a gentleman I insisted on paying, today wasn’t going to cost her a penny. Working for Pete paid reasonably well for someone my age, not brilliant, but I didn’t spend my money on much so had built up a bit of a nest egg. And I was quite happy spending it all on Amy.

  After a short discussion she allowed me to pay, and once through she grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the Vampire rollercoaster, her excitement was infectious, I had no idea what the ride was but the word rollercoaster conjured up one image–dangling high above the ground. We joined the end of the queue, and I was grateful that there appeared to be about a half hour wait. With some luck she wouldn’t want to wait, but as we stood in line she kept a tight hold on my hand and went on about how she had waited ages to come here and go on the ride.

  For some reason I kept quiet about my fear of heights, and as we neared the time for us to get on it hit me like a bullet – I loved her, that was why I was prepared to do anything for her even if that meant overcoming my fears, if she was beside me I could accomplish anything. I remembered it like it was yesterday, we were sat in the carriage, the rail above us, in the queue she had informed me that the rollercoaster hung below the rail rather than on it. She gripped my hands in hers and I think she was as scared as I was, the thing moved and we were off, with my hand held between hers we had reached the summit and started plummeting down towards a tunnel leading underground, all of a sudden her hand went into her lap still clasping mine, I felt the bare skin of her thigh and my mind was no longer focused on the ride. I was no longer afraid.

  The car came to a halt, my hand still clasped in hers though unfortunately no longer in her lap. No sooner had we exited the ride and we were off again, this time to the magic carpet ride, a large platform in the shape of a flying carpet. This was suspended on what could only be described as a large wheel, the idea was that as the wheel turned the carpet was elevated to the top, before descending back to the ground. We stood and watched while we queued, the worst bit was when it reached the top the terrified riders were held there and the carpet ever so slightly tilted forward. But with Amy by my side it would be fine, beside if it meant I got to touch her bare skin it would be worth it.

  By the time we reached the front and had our ride we were both feeling a bit thirsty and hungry. I suggested that we maybe get an early lunch before everybody else, then have a wander around the animals before hitting the rides again. I thought that this way my lunch wouldn’t be in any danger of returning once we were airborne on the rides again.

  We found a burger shack - this was Amy’s idea – I had never seen such a petite girl eat so much, she ordered a double burger with mushroom and bacon, large fries and a chocolate milkshake to wash it down. I had the same but there was no way I was finishing my milkshake after all that food, Amy not only finished all of hers but the third of my milkshake too.

  “How do you stay so slim?” I asked. I couldn’t believe she could eat what she did and not have an ounce of fat on her.

  “Good genes I guess, I’ve always been able to eat what I like.”

  “How’s school?” I just wanted to keep her talking. I could listen to her all day. She had a soothing melody to her voice, she could recite the telephone book for all I cared as long as she kept talking.

  “It’s okay, I do well enough, I’m hoping to go to Uni to study Forensic Science. But to do that I have to get three A-levels, which shouldn’t be a problem, or if not that I would love to do midwifery.”

  “So forensic science, what’s that? Investigating crime scenes and stuff, would you really want to see dead and broken people?”

  “It wouldn’t have to be like that, I could just work in a lab, you know like testing DNA and working out why someone died. It not all like you see on telly where they ask for tests to be done and then they get the results in minutes, in reality it can take weeks to get results.”

  “Where will you go to Uni?” I panicked when she mentioned Uni, she would be gone and mixing with boys her own age and interests. I knew it was a bit premature, she was only fourteen and I had at least four years to make her mine for ever, I lot could happen in that time.

  “Don’t know yet, it’s a long way off.” I think she sensed that I was a bit disappointed that she would be going to Uni. “What about you, what are your plans?”

  “I have no idea, at the moment I’m happy working for Pete, I’m learning a trade and he has talked about sending me to college one day a week to get some qualifications. I had thought of joining the army a little while back [This was a blatant lie, the idea of going to war terrified me.] but realised that I just didn’t believe in a lot of the reasons the country goes to war over.”

  “What about the police, have you never thought about joining them? I like a man in uniform.” She said.

  As we sat there at the wooden bench the sun was beating down ferociously as it approached midday, I suggested that we make a move to the animal section of the park as there may be shade, we had barely stood up and started walking when she took hold of my hand. We walked like this all the way round the animals, occasionally breaking as she ran off to be the first to see the cute Red Panda, but the instant I caught up she would once more take it again.

  The day was perfect; we left the park at around six and stopped for a fish supper on the way home. We ate it in my car out of the paper wrapper. She sat in the passenger
seat with her right leg tucked under her left and her food in her lap, every time she shifted in her seat I got a flash of white panties as her skirt rose ever higher. I really hoped we could do this again, I was afraid to ask and yet I couldn’t bear the thought of taking her home and not knowing when I would see her again.

  We disposed of the wrappers in the bin outside the chippy and set about our journey home once more, all the time I was driving I thought about asking her if we could go out again, each time I went to ask something stopped me. I didn’t know if it was the fear of rejection or the fear that she would say yes. All I knew is that I had to keep seeing her. Eventually as I pulled on to her driveway it came out. “Would you like to go out again sometime?” There it was I had said it, it was out there and there was no taking it back.

  Without even thinking she replied, “We could go to the new cinema complex in Milton Keynes, it’s supposed to be brilliant, can I pick the film?”

  “Of course you can, I’ll give you my number and you can call me when you want to go.” I hastily scribbled my number on the back of an old car park ticket, and included my name just in case she forgot whose number it was. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and thanked me for an amazing day and she was gone, I watched her walk up to her front door with her key in her hand, I couldn’t help but think I knew exactly what was hidden beneath that denim skirt. I could still feel the warmth of her thigh on my hand from the rollercoaster this morning.

  I drove straight home and up to my room, my parents weren’t home, and masturbated while the images of Amy were fresh in my mind, not that I thought they would ever fade.

  ELEVEN

  “Pinky, tell us about your childhood.” Benjamin Fitzwilliam a.k.a. The Crafter asked. It was a little after nine in the morning and for the last two days Pinky hadn’t written a word, well he had but they all ended up in the bin. He was suffering from writer’s block so was glad of the distraction.