Kelly was like him: she needed something to keep her busy. He knew she was desperate for these results to complete her investigation into the disappearance and death of the girl on his slab. As a coroner, he was independent of the government, but equally, he was held to their guidelines, and they didn’t much care for the verdict of suicide: it didn’t help keep the figures down, and the number of suicides amongst kids was frankly shameful. It was the biggest killer of ten to twenty-five-year-olds. She hadn’t told him her theory about the girl’s death lest it cloud his judgement, and that was admirable. He approached the cadaver with an open mind. All he knew was what the forensic reports from the crime scene said: that she’d been found frozen in a ditch.
He approached the bag and unzipped it while his assistant busied himself with making sure Ted had everything to hand: sharp scalpels, his striker saw, a hand saw and various other instruments. It was a sterile environment, though not for the protection of the patient, like in a normal working theatre; rather for the safety of the staff. Corpses carried a multitude of dangerous pathology, and Ted’s gloves and mask were to reduce the risk to himself. The zip made a loud buzz that echoed around the mortuary room, and Ted caught his first glimpse of Faith Shaw in death.
They hadn’t rearranged her body during her defrosting, and she was just as she was when she’d been placed in the bag. He knew that establishing the time of death from tissue damage would be virtually impossible, and he’d have to use the contents of her stomach. The reports said that she’d eaten a hotdog at around 8 p.m. Digestion took three to four hours, and so the remnants of her last meal would tell him much about whether her body had fully digested it, and at what stage she’d frozen.
The freeze-thaw cycle wreaked havoc on cells. When the ice crystals formed during the freezing process thawed, they caused cell membranes to rupture, and also created changes in proteins and enzymes, leaving behind organs that didn’t look like they would normally. It was a pathologist’s nightmare. Ted hoped that the slow defrosting process would have minimised any molecular and DNA damage, but he wouldn’t know until he cut her open and examined her internal organs. First, though, he had to conduct his external inquiry.
It was quite clear that the body had not started to decay, and so the girl must have frozen soon after death. She was known from a phone call to have been alive at 8.47 p.m., and the snow had started to fall around nine o’clock. The beginning of the decomposition process was called the ‘fresh’ stage; Ted couldn’t see any evidence of it, though the more minutes that ticked by, the more the corpse would deteriorate, as the cycle of decomposition after thawing was greatly sped up. Faith’s lips were black and her eyes were staring; though they’d collapsed a little, he imagined them full of life. He picked detritus out of her hair with tweezers and searched carefully for foreign bodies. He examined her ears and eyes, and inside her nasal cavity. Then he turned to her mouth. As he opened her jaw and pulled her lips back to peer down her throat, his attention was caught by red marks on her gums. They were accompanied by tiny cuts and abrasions on the inside of her lips. He pulled her top lip back and forth a few times, and nodded his head: it had been forced so powerfully against her teeth that it had broken the skin, and the marks were preserved beautifully; he could even tell which tooth had made them.
He considered the markings and concluded that they were consistent with something being held over the mouth for an extended period of time. But that wasn’t all; it was quite clear that something had been shoved into the mouth cavity. The damage to the gums was consistent with violent rubbing, and her maxillary frenum was torn. It reminded Ted of his girls, and how much blood the damn flap of skin joining the top lip to the gum produced when they bashed themselves on a bike handle or a door. He looked closer, and spotted what he thought was residue of frozen spittle, or perhaps congealed powder or food. He scraped a sample off and placed it in a tube.
His assistant photographed the wounds and he moved on to her neck, clavicle and chest, cutting away her upper garments to continue his analysis. There were slight bruises on her chest, indicating again that she’d been held down, and he had them photographed.
Picking up one of her hands, he noticed that the girl had extensive damage to her fingers. Several were broken and bloodied: classic defence wounds. He scraped underneath her nails and gathered a significant amount of matter, including several fibres. He continued downwards and had her trousers cut away, though they were halfway down her legs to begin with. He’d already ordered a rape kit and now set about swabbing her.
The body was turned over and he spent another twenty minutes gathering fibres and residues, as well as photographing her from different angles. It was the girl’s last chance to speak, and he desperately wanted to allow her to shout out from the highest rooftops: This is what happened to me, now you know!
Finally, it was time to eviscerate her body. He cut from clavicle to belly button and opened the precious cavity designed so astoundingly well to protect her vital organs. He used a striker saw to get through her sternum and set about the task of breaking her ribs. It was gone ten o’clock at night, but he was unconcerned with time. He’d see the whole operation through tonight, no matter how long it took; Kelly would be awake until he finished, he had no doubt about that. He was to call her with any news. Sometimes during an autopsy it became abundantly clear what had caused the demise of a human being, but at other times it was a puzzle that could only be pieced together when all the histology, toxicology and pathology was collected and brought together. He was hoping that this body would yield some answers for him so he could at least give Kelly something to work with.
It was almost midnight when he finished and left his assistant to wash down the slab. Slices of organs had been placed on slides, whole organs had been weighed and photographed, and he’d done about as much as he possibly could. He’d even examined those areas of the body that weren’t usually bothered with, such as her spleen and bowel. An investigation of her stomach had revealed it to be full: a soupy mass of pre-digested bread and sausage sat there waiting for her digestive juices and enzymes from her pancreas to attack it in preparation for moving on to the intestine. It meant that she had died sometime between 9 p.m. and midnight.
As for cause of death, it was unclear; they’d have to wait. He called Kelly.
Chapter 60
Kelly couldn’t sleep. Too many things whirred around her head. She guessed it to be still night-time but was surprised when she looked at her phone that it was 4.30 in the morning. Her mother always called it the witching hour, when demons and ghouls roamed the world.
She sighed and sat up in bed; there was nothing else for it, she might as well get up. She thought about Luke and Sadie spending the night in the cells, and what they’d done to their friend. Blackman had gone AWOL again, and she had entered his details on the PNC nationwide for immediate arrest with caution.
She went downstairs. There was no one else in the house. Johnny had taken Josie to see a movie and had gone home afterwards, guilty that he wasn’t spending enough time with her. Most parents in north Cumbria had suddenly become paranoid about the welfare of their children. Kelly experienced the same acute desire to protect those around her, and it manifested itself in visiting her mother. She’d gone to see her late last night and found her comfortable, but weak, and hooked up to a drip. She was also receiving regular doses of morphine from a syringe driver in her wrist.
She refilled the coffee machine (a Christmas present from Ted) and popped a pod into it. When she switched it on, it made percolating noses reminiscent of a Parisian bakery. Kelly figured that she would’ve been good at night-shift work, as the small hours seemed to suit her: they were quiet and private, giving her the head space she needed to tackle her job.
Her mind went back to her conversation with Ted. Faith had given up some of her last secrets, and now it was up to Kelly to find out what had happened to her after her so-called friends left her alone in the forest. Her suspects were var
ied. It could have been Bailey, Luke or Danny Stanton, though she was unclear how he was involved yet; he was awaiting interview in Dover. They already had Bailey’s DNA, and she was hoping that some of it had been found on Faith, but with freezing, one could never be sure. She wanted as many answers for the family as possible.
She decided that if she finished her coffee and had a long shower, by the time she’d dressed and stopped off in Penrith for another coffee, it wouldn’t be too early to pay a visit to Sadie Rawlinson in her cell. She knew from speaking to social services that teenage mental health was at breaking point, and children with mothers like Belinda Rawlinson, who were whacked on drugs for most of their existence, stood little chance of breaking the chains of learned behaviours. But she refused to dwell on it. Sadie was key. The girl had cracked halfway yesterday and then clammed up in the middle of a full-blown comedown.
When Kelly left the house, the dark sky hadn’t yet shown any sign of changing colour, and the street was empty and black. Pooley Bridge was deserted and the road to Penrith the same. The castle shone red in the emerging dawn and she parked behind Eden House. She wondered what sort of a night the kids had had. The cells were quiet, and she went to Sadie’s and swung the grate across. The girl sat on the small cot bed, rocking back and forth.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘I want to talk to you, Sadie.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t believe that what happened to your friend doesn’t hurt you. You’ve been pretty much blamed for everything, haven’t you? I want to hear your side. If you really want Mr Blackman out of your life, you need to tell me everything you know.’
There was a pause.
‘He’ll kill me.’ It was a whisper. Kelly got the uniform on duty to open the door.
‘Not if you tell me what he did. Sadie, listen to me. We can help you get clean, we can keep you away from all of them, but you have to tell me the truth.’
The girl had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was matted and greasy. Getting her clean would be a struggle. They had drug squad briefings every month and the tide was turning in favour of the addict. Money was being poured into detox and recovery, but altruistic as it was, there simply weren’t the incentives to keep the sobriety going: relapse ran at eighty-eight per cent. It was endemic.
‘Come on, I’ll make you a hot drink and get you something to eat.’
Sadie looked up, and Kelly thought she looked ten years older than her true age, and exhausted. She stood up and let the blanket fall away from her. Kelly hadn’t noticed how skinny she was. She led her upstairs and got some food from the small kitchen. The interview rooms were warm and there was a sofa for Sadie to curl up on. She visibly relaxed and accepted a hot chocolate as well as a prawn sandwich, which she devoured. The munchies were always strong in the absence of poison. Her hands shook.
‘Withdrawal?’ Kelly asked. Sadie nodded. ‘How much do you do?’
‘Enough. Faith could take it or leave it.’ The girl’s face crumpled and the tears came. Kelly waited.
Once Sadie had calmed a little, and the tears had subsided, Kelly began.
‘I’m going to record you, Sadie.’
The girl nodded.
Preliminaries out of the way, Kelly started with the forest.
‘You went to Whinlatter for a joyride and a party?’
Sadie nodded again.
‘Tell me for the tape; I need you to describe exactly what you remember.’
‘I never used to be addicted. He gave me more and more until I was.’ Sadie put her head in her hands and Kelly thought she might lose her again. The despair was palpable.
‘Who?’
‘Mr Blackman.’
‘Where? We found nothing in his flat.’
‘He was always careful. He has another place too, but I never went.’
‘Did Faith cause a problem? Did she threaten to snitch?’
‘We used to play this game where we’d take Faith to places and leave her there. We were animals.’
‘You regret the way you treated her?’
‘Yes! She was so sweet. I was jealous of her.’ It was a heartfelt admission, but it didn’t take away the fact that Faith’s death had indeed been caused by animals, and Kelly held that thought.
‘Luke said we should do the same that night. Faith begged us not to. She knew we were in the middle of nowhere. Danny came to do a deal with Luke. Faith had been drinking, but she was saying she wanted to go home and she was crying. I don’t think they knew what to do. When she started screaming and trying to leave the car, Luke pushed her out and phoned Bobby. Just to scare her.’
‘What about Justin?’
‘He’s terrified of Luke, he said nothing.’
‘And you?’
‘I tried to get between them. I tried to get out of the car, but I was so spiced.’
Sadie looked at her fingers and picked the skin around them; they were already red and sore. Then she put her hands to her face and began to sob, rocking back and forth on the sofa. Kelly couldn’t decipher her words and tried to be gently persuasive, but she was losing her.
‘Did you see Bobby arrive?’ The picture unfolding of Faith’s last moments was causing Kelly’s gut to turn over. She switched off the recording equipment. ‘Tell me, Sadie, or I will make sure you never get out of juvenile correction. You think you have it rough now; you haven’t lived. And don’t even think about whether I have the power to do it or not; believe me, I’ll make it my mission.’ She switched the equipment back on.
‘Bobby was on the phone to Mr Blackman when he arrived. I watched from the car, but then Luke took off and left her.’
‘With Bobby?’
Sadie nodded.
‘You need to be very careful what you tell me, Sadie, because you’ve already had one case against Mr Blackman dropped by the CPS. They now think that was a miscarriage of justice, but you’re telling me that he’s behind all of this? You planted those images, didn’t you?’
Sadie nodded.
‘You wanted him out of your lives?’
She nodded again.
‘What did he do?’
‘You won’t believe me. No one will. He’s so clever and he’ll never get caught. No one will ever believe us! Mr Clean, Mr Popular, Mr Friendly. Mr Fucking Devil!’ Sadie screamed.
It was the classic mantra of an abused child, and Kelly had heard it a thousand times before. Don’t tell: no one will believe your word against mine.
‘Tell me from the beginning,’ she said. ‘I believe you.’
Chapter 61
Kelly secured warrants for both Blackman’s flat and Sarah Peaks’ cottage. She hated being double-crossed, and she’d been duped, outdone, sewn up, and whatever other phrase her furious brain came up with to spit out the rage that she was trying to divert into the investigation.
It wasn’t working.
During the period of his suspension from work, Tony Blackman had spent most of his time at the home of Sarah Peaks, his alleged friend-cum-lover. Kelly arranged for both places to be searched at the same time to avoid either of them getting a heads-up and being able to hide anything. It was still unclear if Sarah was involved; Kelly kept an open mind. Meanwhile, she went back to Luke Miles and delivered the news that Sadie had come clean.
By 8.30, her team was assembled and she briefed them on what had come together overnight. Faced with Sadie’s testimony, Luke had changed his statement again. He was informed that due to Mr Blackman’s coercion and manipulation, a plea bargain would be accepted in principle by the CPS. It was two weeks before his eighteenth birthday, and he’d be charged as a minor.
Ted called with the toxicology results: Bobby Bailey’s DNA matched the DNA from the rape swab.
‘The residue inside her gums was ketamine, and the injuries inside her mouth prove that it was rubbed into her skin forcefully enough to cause tearing and trauma. It would have entered her bloodstream very quickly.’
Ketamine was
fast becoming known as a date-rape drug. It could be snorted, injected or smoked. It was also marketed to kids as ‘Special K’ to make it sound cool.
‘How long would she have been out of it?’ she asked.
‘Enough time to be raped. Cause of death was freezing, though. I’m sorry.’
‘I need to prove that the drugs were a fundamental part of her death.’
‘What difference would that make? Bailey is dead.’
‘If the victim of drug misuse is a minor, the dealer can be convicted of murder. I told you before, Ted, I’m nailing these bastards for the deaths of Jenna Fraser and Jake Trent.’
‘Faith didn’t die of an overdose, though.’
‘No, but the drug rendered her unconscious in sub-zero conditions, and she was left for dead.’
‘Is that sufficient intent?’
‘Yes, because she died as a direct result of being administered that drug.’
‘Difficult to prove.’
‘If I can prove that the teacher, Tony Blackman, was the kids’ main dealer, I could get him for gross negligence manslaughter, because he was in a public position of power, and murder, because Faith was fifteen. There’s also oblique intent for indirect murder because her death was as a direct consequence of his actions. If – and that’s the kicker – I can get the others to testify.’
‘I’m proud of you, Kelly.’
She hung up before either of them said more.
There was still no sign of Mr Blackman as they worked on his culpability and the escalation of his involvement. There had never been any evidence that the suicide of Laura Briggs was connected to Blackman, but Jenna Fraser was another story. Emma had been doing her homework and had traced a web of texts and secret WhatsApps between Jenna and Luke Miles. She’d also found three texts from a number they now knew very well: Tony Blackman’s. He’d threatened to tell Jenna’s parents of the secret addiction that was destroying her Olympic dream.
Bitter Edge Page 25