Small Mercies

by Small Mercies (epub)

  She waited impatiently while the officer spoke to the figure who had been addressing the group. She knew him slightly. Chief Inspector Alan Cowley, she recalled. She’d had a few dealings with him, and found him efficient if a little brusque. She watched as he concluded his briefing and made his way across to her.

  ‘Annie Delamere, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well remembered, Alan,’ she said curtly. ‘This is Sheena Pearson. Can I ask you what the hell’s going on?’

  Cowley blinked at the repressed anger in her tone. ‘I wish I knew. I’ve only just arrived myself—’

  ‘There should have been a senior presence from the start,’ Annie said. ‘After what happened yesterday.’

  ‘With the benefit of hindsight…’ Cowley stopped, clearly recognising that his usual PR emollience wasn’t going to work here. ‘No, you’re right. We underestimated the risk. I’m sorry.’ He nodded to Sheena. ‘Delighted to meet you, Ms Pearson. I wish it could have been in other circumstances.’

  ‘So do we,’ Annie said. Her anger had lessened a little, and she at least felt gracious enough to acknowledge Cowley’s honesty. From everything she’d heard, he was a sound enough copper, and no doubt struggling with scant resources as they all were. He wasn’t a smooth operator like Stuart Jennings and had probably progressed as far as he was likely to in the force, but he’d always do a decent job. Whatever mistakes had been made, he looked in his element now, confidently marshalling a team to deal with an undoubted crisis.

  ‘The shot was fired at the rear of the hospital, I understand?’ Cowley said. ‘We should have had more people stationed out there.’

  Annie had noticed a large map of the hospital estate set on the wall of the reception for the benefit of visitors. She led Cowley and Sheena over to it. ‘We were planning to leave through this entrance.’ She pointed a finger at the map. ‘I’d left my car in the pick-up bay so we could get Sheena out quickly. The bullet hit the window here. So it looked to me as if it was fired from somewhere in the car park out here.’ She gestured towards the relevant area on the map.

  ‘We’ve got the site sealed off,’ Cowley said. ‘If there’s anyone still out there, we’ll get them. One way or another,’ he added, ominously.

  ‘My guess is that they’re long gone,’ Annie said. ‘After the first shot, there was no sign of any movement. There were only a few minutes before you began to arrive, but I’m guessing it was probably enough.’

  Cowley nodded. ‘We’ll get the CCTV cameras checked urgently. There must be decent coverage of the car parks outside.’ He paused. ‘I hope this doesn’t sound too insensitive, Ms Pearson, but the main question at the moment is whether this person has a personal grudge against you, or whether they’re a more general danger.’

  ‘They’re a danger either way,’ Annie pointed out. ‘Even if Sheena was the target, other people could easily have been hit both today and yesterday.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Cowley said, morosely. ‘So I think we have to assume there’s a significant public risk. Okay, I’ll relay that up the line.’ He allowed them a faint smile. ‘Let the senior ranks earn their money for once, eh? I’d better get back to the operation here but you’ll both need to give a statement. We’re taking one from the porter who was with you too. For now we’re mostly concerned with securing the premises. There’s still a chance our shooter might be outside.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Annie said.

  ‘Thanks,’ Cowley said. ‘I have a feeling we’re going to need it with this one.’

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Jesus,’ Jennings said. ‘Do you people always attract trouble like this?’

  ‘It’s a knack.’ Zoe Everett was clearly focused on navigating the single-track road in the thickening mist. ‘Some people collect stamps.’

  Jennings had just taken a call from Annie Delamere, updating him on events at the hospital. His first response had been, ‘So I guess you’re not going to be in for a while, then?’ Even he’d realised his words had sounded graceless in the circumstances. But that was what happened when he was extracted from the warmth of his office and forced to attend a crime scene in the back end of nowhere on a day like this.

  Annie had responded, quite reasonably, that she’d be back in as soon as she’d been allowed to leave the hospital site and had managed to get Sheena Pearson home and under appropriate protection.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Jennings had agreed, wearily. ‘In other news, it looks like we have a second one.’

  ‘Another one?’

  ‘Another naked body with its throat slashed.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be that much of a laugh, would it? Zoe and I are heading out there now. Christ knows where we are.’

  ‘Somewhere between Buxton and Ashbourne,’ Zoe added. ‘Beyond that, I’m just following the satnav.’

  Jennings had finished the call with Annie and sat watching what was visible of the passing landscape. Mostly it was just hedgerows and trees looming briefly out of the rain, with the occasional glimpse of the open moorland beyond. Even on a fine day, this would be a remote area. On a day like this, with the weather closing in, it felt a thousand miles from anywhere.

  He hadn’t exactly expected a quiet life when he’d moved over here – a posting in Major Crimes was never likely to result in that – but he hadn’t expected things to be quite so eventful. Mutilated naked corpses. MPs under fire. For a while now, he’d had the sense the whole country had gone off the rails, that the calm and measured society he’d grown up in had been replaced by something much less stable. Passing through this bleak landscape, it felt as if some of that might be coming even closer to home.

  Ahead of them, through the thickening drizzle, he could see the steady pulse of blue lights. ‘Looks like we’re in the right place, then,’ Jennings observed.

  Zoe slowed the car. Ahead, the road forked, with the main road curving over to the left and a rougher track diverging off to the right. A faded sign read ‘Higher Wenlow Farm’ with an arrow pointing along the track. ‘That’s the address,’ she said. ‘Should have brought a four-by-four.’

  Jennings nodded. ‘And, as ever, they’ve picked the right bloody day for it. Some of our killers have no consideration. Let’s go and see what’s going on.’

  They bounced their way down the track into a cluttered farmyard. There was a large open barn to their right, housing an array of farm machinery. Ahead of them was a large if shabby-looking farmhouse, with two patrol cars parked outside, lights still flashing. Jennings climbed out into the cold afternoon. He pulled up the hood of his heavy waterproof, but he could already tell it would offer limited protection against the persistent rain.

  A uniformed officer was hurrying towards them, slowing as he recognised the identity of the new arrivals. Jennings nodded to him. ‘Afternoon, Dick. You drew the short straw, did you?’

  PC Dick Kenwright grinned and nodded. ‘Story of my life.’ He was a large red-faced man with a strong Derbyshire accent, very much the copper you’d want beside you in any difficult situation.

  ‘What’s the story?’

  ‘Farmer here found the body. Or at least his dog did. Out on the moorland out back.’

  ‘What you’re telling me is that I’ve got further to walk?’

  ‘Aye, there is that. And nothing pleasant to see when you get there, by all accounts.’

  ‘So I understand. Where’s our farmer?’

  ‘Back in the house. He knows you’ll be wanting to talk to him.’

  ‘We’ll take a look at the scene and have a chat with him on the way back.’ Jennings turned to Zoe. ‘Shall we go for a stroll?’

  ‘Perfect weather for it,’ she said.

  They left Kenwright and made their way along the side of the farmhouse. Jennings noted that, although they were presumably on private land, the route they were taking was a designated footpath. That might prove significant when it came to investigating quite how and why the body had come to be up here.

/>   After a few minutes, they arrived at a line of fencing that marked the edge of the farmyard itself, with a gate set across the path ahead of them. Jennings peered into the drizzle. ‘Wonder how much further it is?’ he said, morosely.

  ‘Too far,’ Zoe said.

  The path ahead looked uninviting, overgrown and muddy from the rain. Jennings trudged forward, trying to keep to the drier edges of the path. As they walked, the ground descended and then rose again. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the bleating of sheep, but everything was lost in the blur of rain and mist. Then, as they trudged upwards, a thicket of trees loomed unexpectedly out of the rain. As they drew closer, Jennings saw that the woodland was partly obscured by the white bulk of a crime-scene tent. Tim Sturgeon, the crime scene manager, was standing inside the entrance, talking earnestly on a mobile phone. They climbed towards him, and he waved a greeting and gestured for them to enter, mouthing ‘Be with you in a second.’

  ‘Are we okay to go in?’ Jennings said. ‘Where’s the body?’

  Sturgeon finished his call and then turned to them. ‘Sorry about that. Trying to drum up more resources. Not the easiest place to work in. Yes, you’re fine to go in. The body’s up the hill in the trees. We couldn’t get the tent in there, so we’re just using one of the small portable ones. We’ve set up this mainly just to help keep dry.’

  ‘Must be fun for the CSIs.’

  Sturgeon shrugged. ‘Laugh a minute. But it’s Danny Eccles leading it. He always keeps cheerful.’

  ‘We’ll go and have a chat in a sec. I take it this is similar to our other body?’

  ‘Almost identical, from what I understand. Naked white male, probably twenties. Same kind of mutilations.’

  Jennings turned to Zoe. ‘Shall we go and talk to Danny?’

  To his surprise, she appeared to hesitate. ‘Do you mind if I stay here for the moment?’ She looked as if she were about to say something more, then stopped.

  Jennings’ first instinct was to tell her not to be so bloody daft, but he had the sense her reluctance was motivated by something more than the weather or the prospect of viewing a body. He’d seen enough of her to know that she wasn’t normally squeamish or uncooperative. Now wasn’t the moment to enquire. He’d have to have a word with Annie Delamere when she returned. Jennings had always prided himself on his people management skills, and there were times when that seemed the most demanding part of the job. ‘See you in a minute, then.’

  He made his way round the side of the tent into the woodland. The trees were clustered thickly on the summit, standing out starkly in the otherwise largely empty moorland. It was an odd, slightly unnatural location, Jennings thought.

  The smaller protective tent was in a narrow clearing ahead of him, a pale ghostlike presence in the verdant gloom. Danny Eccles, clad in some waterproof variant of his usual white suit, was emerging from the interior.

  ‘Having fun in there?’ Jennings said.

  ‘Not so’s you’d notice. Bit claustrophobic. Not much space to share with a badly mutilated corpse.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it. I hear we’ve another one.’

  ‘Take a look, if you like. Long as you don’t actually go inside. But, yeah, pretty much the same. Throat cut in the same way. Same, or at least very similar, cuts to the chest. Again, my guess is that there were made before death.’

  ‘And the killing took place here?’

  ‘Looks like it, from the amount of blood.’

  ‘Any idea how they might have got him here?’

  ‘Not sure. There’s a road runs across the moorland in that direction.’ He pointed off into the trees. ‘My guess is they either approached from there, or they brought him down the footpath past the farmhouse. But that would carry a greater risk of being spotted.’

  ‘I’ll get the roads checked out. I’m guessing the chances of any witnesses or CCTV are limited. How long do you reckon the body’s been here?’

  ‘I’d guess since last night. Yesterday at most.’

  ‘That gives us a relatively tight window to work with. What about ID?’

  ‘No sign of anything around. But this one’s also obligingly tattooed. A couple of distinctive-looking ones.’

  ‘We’ll get them checked out. But that would fit with the last one. Interesting, if so.’

  ‘Starts to suggest a pattern, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Definitely. Though God knows what sort of pattern. And it might just be coincidence. Or gang-on-gang stuff, maybe.’

  ‘Neither of them looked the tough-guy type, physically at least.’

  ‘Maybe that’s why they ended up dead.’ Jennings looked up at the rain-heavy sky. ‘Don’t know whether you’re worse off inside the tent, or out here in the rain.’

  ‘Trust me,’ Eccles said. ‘It’s worse in the tent.’

  * * *

  ‘Really does feel like the back of beyond, doesn’t it?’

  ‘We’re not that far from Buxton,’ Zoe said. ‘But you’d never know it. Don’t imagine this landscape has changed much in centuries, other than repairs to the dry-stone walling.’

  She and Jennings were making their way back along the path to the farmhouse. The rain had grown heavier and they both had their heads down under their heavy waterproof hoods. Jennings couldn’t see Zoe’s expression, and there was no clue from her voice how she was feeling.

  As they reached the front of the house, Jennings waved to Dick Kenwright, still stationed by the rear gate. Kenwright returned a cheerful thumbs-up, not obviously fazed by his long period in the pouring rain. Jennings pressed the doorbell.

  After a moment, they heard the sound of bolts being drawn back. The door opened and a gaunt face peered out at them. Jennings showed his warrant card. ‘DCI Jennings and DS Everett. Can we have a word?’

  The man nodded and opened the door fully. He was taller and younger than Jennings had initially assumed, his thinning hair cut short. He looked anxious, his face pale in the gloomy daylight. ‘Sorry about all the security. To be honest, I’m a bit freaked out by what’s happened.’

  ‘It’s always wise to be cautious,’ Jennings said. ‘Though I think you’re unlikely to be in any personal danger, Mr…?’

  ‘Miller. Tom Miller. I’m sure you’re right. But it’s not a nice thing to find on your land.’

  ‘That’s your land out there, is it? Beyond the fence, I mean.’

  ‘Aye, all mine. Sheep-farming.’ He gestured for the two police officers to follow him into a comfortable-looking sitting room. The furnishings and decor were more modern than Jennings had expected from the exterior of the building. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ He waved them to take a seat.

  ‘No, that’s fine. We’ll not keep you long. We’ll need to take a formal statement from you in due course, but I wanted to have a chat while things were fresh in your mind.’

  ‘Not sure how much I can help you.’ Miller lowered himself into one of the armchairs opposite. ‘But fire away.’

  ‘You found this body earlier this morning?’

  ‘About half ten, eleven, something like that. I’d just let Beth – that’s the dog – out for a bit of exercise. She went racing off, like she does sometimes. But then she didn’t come back, which isn’t like her. So I went to find her and – well, there it was.’

  ‘I assume you’re up and about early. The dog, Beth, didn’t show any signs of interest in that area earlier? I’m just trying to get a sense of how long the body might have been there.’

  ‘We hadn’t been out that way earlier. I’ve got another stretch of land off the other side of the road, and we were there first thing. So that was the first time today Beth had been at the back.’

  ‘What about yesterday?’

  ‘Oh, aye. We were out there yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Beth showed no signs of any abnormal behaviour then?’

  ‘She’s a daft dog most of the time, but, no, nothing out of the ordinary.’

  Jennings exchanged a glance with Zoe.
From Miller’s account, it seemed almost certain the killing had occurred over the previous night, which aligned with Danny Eccles’ judgement. That gave them a relatively precise timing for checking out any sightings of suspicious activity in the area. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something.

  ‘Do you see or hear anything unusual yourself last night, Mr Miller?’

  ‘Nothing, I’m afraid. I’m always in bed by nine, and not much disturbs me till the morning.’

  ‘So someone could have come down the footpath and you wouldn’t have heard.’

  ‘Probably, to be honest. I mean, my bedroom’s on that side of the house so it’s possible I’d have heard if someone had come past. But, like I say, I do usually sleep very soundly.’

  ‘We understand there’s a road passes by the far side of your land. Is it possible they could have come from that direction?’

  ‘More than possible, I’d say. If you were going to take someone to that spot without being seen, it’s more accessible from that side than this. There’s woodland by the road where you could hide a vehicle, and the ground’s relatively flat.’

  Jennings nodded. ‘That’s been very helpful, Mr Miller. As I say, I’ll get one of the team to take a formal statement from you, just for the record, but I hope we won’t need to disturb you too much from here. You’re happy for us to continue our investigations out there? We’ll try not to cause too much disruption.’

  ‘Yes, of course. If you need anything, just knock on the door.’

  Miller led them to the front door. As he opened it, they caught the chill blast of the wind and rain. The weather seemed worse than ever. ‘Don’t envy your lads out there. It’s the devil’s own place at the best of times.’ Miller made it sound as if the description was more than just a figure of speech.

  Jennings was already heading for the car, waving his farewells as he pulled his hood over his head. ‘One of those days,’ he shouted back, ‘when I’m only too glad to have reached the exalted rank of DCI.’