Killer Smile

by RC Bridgestock

Dylan stopped and swung around to face the detectives and they both stood perfectly still. ‘Get me samples of the condoms they sell in the pub while you’re at it,’ he said.

  ‘Any particular flavour boss?’ said Ned in a hushed tone.

  ‘Just do it smart arse,’ Dylan said, his expression unchanged.

  ***

  It was known in the force as the ‘Death Notice’. Dylan marched out of the police station with a walk of a man who was going to deliver that knock on the door, by a police officer, that no one wanted to hear. DS Vicky Hardacre followed solemnly in his footsteps.

  PC Bullock, the designated Family Liaison Officer, opened the gate of number 4, Spring Bank Road and strode head down with the CID officers up the path.

  Dylan stopped at the glossy red front door, checked the number and before he knocked he glanced over his shoulder at the two women. The knock, when it came, was loud and clear. There was a humming of insects. Dylan stared at the door for a moment or two waiting for it to be answered. After a moment or two Vicky noticed his broad, taut shoulders visibly drop. He knocked again and this time it wasn’t as forceful. He tilted his head upwards slightly, raising his eyes sufficiently to be able to see through the small arc of a window. Still there was no reply. Dylan tried the handle. The door was secure. A path directly under the lounge window appeared to continue around to the rear of the house and the three walked it in a singular line, taking a cursory glance through the window pane as they passed. All looked quiet inside. At the back door Dylan knocked again but his knocking was met with silence.

  Dylan stepped down from the doorstep and at that moment a lady suddenly appeared on the doorstep of the adjoining house. ‘What’s all the banging about?’ she shouted.

  The three officers held up their warrant cards and before they could speak she had walked to the chest-high privet hedge and continued in a softer voice.

  ‘Who are you looking for? Davina’s out on her bike and you’ve just missed her partner Gary. Can I give them a message?’

  ‘There’s been a serious incident on the canal cycle path which has proven fatal. We need to speak to Gary as a matter of urgency,’ he said.

  The lady’s face drained of colour and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh my,’ she said.

  ‘Stay where you are and we’ll come around to you,’ said Dylan, locating the iron gated access to her garden.

  Vicky stayed talking to the neighbour as Dylan and the FLO made their way next door. With a light touch of her fingers PC Bullock guided her indoors. She felt a faint tremor go through her. ‘They’re in training to do a sponsored bike ride to raise money for the children’s hospice,’ she said.

  ‘What’s your name dear?’ asked PC Bullock pulling out a kitchen chair.

  ‘Mrs Crowther,’ she said. ‘Jean, Jean Crowther.’

  Davina’s next door neighbour appeared to be having difficulty breathing. ‘Shall I pop the kettle on?’ said PC Bullock.

  The four sat around a breakfast table by the window. ‘It’s this weekend, the Three Peaks Cyclo-Cross.’ Mrs Crowther half smiled briefly, as she wiped a lone tear that had escaped her watery eyes.

  ***

  The team had been given a positive identification of their victim and the clothes she wore when training. There was no doubt in Dylan’s mind their victim was Davina Walsh. Mrs Crowther stood, walked to her dresser and picked up a teddy bear key fob. She held one hand to her breast and the other out towards the police officer. ‘Gary gave me this so she could get in the house. You will probably need this now?’

  Giving someone distressing news was hard and so was leaving them alone but, satisfied that Mrs Crowther was okay the three officers thanked her for her help and headed towards Harrowfield Fire Station.

  ***

  The fire station was devoid of its fire engines. ‘They’re out on a shout,’ Frank Jessop the officer in charge of the watch told Dylan. ‘Do you want to come in and wait?’

  ‘I’d like to have a word with you first if I may?’ said Dylan.

  Dylan could see the older man’s eyes fill up as he sat opposite him in his office explaining the reason for their visit.

  ‘Bloody hell, what a shock. Davina... She’s a grand lass... Murdered you say? Christ Almighty... Davina’s only recently lost her mum and that’s why they’re doing the bike ride to raise money in her memory, quite a few of the lads from here are involved. Do you want me to stay with you whilst you break the news to Gary?’

  ‘If you would? There is never an easy way to break news like this but sometimes a familiar face helps.’

  Frank Jessop looked at Dylan with eyes full of sorrow. ‘Have you got the bastard who did it?’ he said, shaking his head gently to and fro. ‘This is going to destroy him... I’m ... I feel... What can I say?’

  ‘No, we’ve no suspects at the moment. Is there anything else you can tell us about Davina? Has she any other family?’

  ‘No not that I know of. Her dad, he’s been dead a long while. She’s had it rough; a young lass looking after her poorly mum. Look, let me try and get Gary back here a bit quicker if I can. Let’s get this done. I’ll get Harrowfield Outer Station to pick up our calls for now…’

  ***

  Gary was a pleasant looking young man. He had a ruddy, weathered face and was clean shaven. At some stage in his past it was apparent from looking at him that he had his nose broken; in fact his lean, strong body could have been that of a boxer. Dylan stood and introduced himself and the other officers to him. Understandably he looked puzzled. ‘What’s all this about?’ he said. He was still dressed in his weatherproof trousers, minus his jacket but he still held his helmet at his hip. ‘What’s up,’ he said meeting their serious faces with a frown. ‘I submitted my report for the fatal fire weeks ago, Frank?’

  Gary’s boss got up from behind his desk, pulled up a chair for Gary to sit down and closed his office door.

  ‘Now you’re worrying me,’ he said with a nervous laugh. Frank couldn’t look Gary in the face. Gary followed his boss’s shaky movements back to his seat.

  Dylan detested this part of his job. He knew the next few words that came from his mouth would change this young man’s world forever. They would cause him unimaginable pain no human being should ever have to endure. For Dylan, telling someone their loved one was dead, murdered, never got any easier. People reacted differently, he could never predict the response. He took a deep breath. ‘Gary, it’s not about the fire. I’ve got some terrible news for you and there is no easy way... The body of a young lady was found earlier this morning on the cycle path near the Anchor Inn. We believe it to be that of Davina.’ Dylan could hear his own voice shaking.

  Gary’s face became contorted, his complexion turned the colour of milk. He sat still. He blinked his eyes. ‘It can’t be. Why are you saying that?’ His eyes had a blind look as though his vision had turned inwards.

  Dylan talked, although he knew by Gary’s expression he heard very little of what he said. Dylan explained what Davina had been wearing when she was found, described her bike and revealed the contents of the waist pouch found strapped to her body – almost as if Dylan himself needed reassurance that the body that had been found was Davina Walsh. He told of how he and the officers present had visited at his home address, and he relayed the conversation they had had with their neighbour Mrs Crowther. Lastly he passed Gary the key they had been given. ‘There will have to be a formal identification of Davina’s body but we wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this unless we were sure it was her, Gary.’

  ‘I told her not to go training today,’ Gary’s eyes lifted from where they had focused, on the wooden floor, between his legs. The keys dangled loosely from his hand. He looked directly into Dylan’s eyes with a pleading stare Dylan was accustomed to from victim’s families.

  ‘Why’s that?’ said Dylan.

  ‘A cold... she’s full of cold...’ Gary’s voice grew louder and bitter. ‘Why did she have to be so pig-headed? She was so determined to keep
up with her damn training because she didn’t want to let the team down,’ he said. He brought his hands up to his head and grasped it as though it would explode. ‘I shouted at her.’ His voice cracked. ‘Can you believe I told her she’d kill herself?’ His voice became a whisper. ‘I’m sorry... I just can’t... She didn’t listen, she never bloody listened...’ he said. Unchecked tears ran down his face. ‘Cycling’s second nature to Davina. She frightens the hell out of me how fast she goes...’ his focus flew up to the ceiling, he shut his eyes and was still. For a few moments Gary was quiet and he appeared to be holding his breath.

  ‘You don’t have to apologise. Never apologise. We can only imagine how you’re feeling. Davina died instantly, but Gary, I have to tell you this wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t her fault. We believe Davina was murdered.’

  ‘Murdered?’ Gary’s eyes grew wide. ‘Murdered? Why? Why would anyone want to murder Davina?’ He sprang up from his chair. Overturned it lay between him and Dylan. His face crumpled. ‘It can’t be her ... It just can’t be... you must be wrong. She’s my world.’ Gary looked as if something had broken within him.

  ‘Gary, I’m heading a major investigation to find out why and by whom,’ Dylan said.

  ‘I don’t understand? Am I missing something? Did they think she was carrying money?’

  Dylan could only raise his shoulders. He sighed deeply and shook his head slightly from side to side. ‘At this point I don’t have an answer for you.’

  ‘How did she die?’ Gary appeared to be more composed as he made a groping gesture towards the desk and he rested for a moment when he found it. His hands spread out upon it, he faltered for a moment or two.

  ‘She died of a serious injury to her throat,’ said Dylan.

  Gary turned.

  ‘Someone cut her throat?’ Gary’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked over his shoulder to his station officer. ‘I can’t cope with this Frank,’ he said, panic flashed across his eyes.

  Frank Jessop rested his elbow on his desk, put his hand to his forehead and covered his eyes. ‘You and me both lad,’ he replied wiping his eyes with a handkerchief that was swiftly retrieved from his trouser pocket, ‘you and me both.’

  ‘I’m sorry. We have to tell you what happened because we need to ask you some questions about Davina,’ Dylan said.

  Gary swallowed hard and waited in anticipation. Dylan righted the chair and gestured that he should sit down.

  ‘It appears that Davina has teeth missing and we are wondering if they came out when she fell from her bike?’ Dylan continued.

  ‘Must have,’ Gary said reaching inside his pocket for his wallet. ‘Look,’ he said pulling out a picture of Davina and pointing to her perfect smile. ‘She had beautiful white teeth, no fillings, no nothing.’ Gary stared at his girlfriend’s picture that he held so tightly that the top of his thumbnail turned white.

  ‘He’s right, it was one of the first things you noticed about her when you met her, her beautiful smile,’ said Frank.

  Gary looked agitated. He sat bolt upright and looked Dylan straight in the eyes. ‘I have to see her. Where is she?’ He jumped to his feet once again as if his chair was on fire.

  ‘Of course,’ Dylan said gently. ‘We need you to officially identify her. She’s in the mortuary at Harrowfield Hospital. Being a fire officer you’ll know it can only be brief, through the viewing room window at this stage. Again, I’m probably teaching you to suck eggs but this allows us to secure uncontaminated evidence which is very important to help us catch who did this to Davina. As soon as she has been examined by the pathologist you’ll be able to spend more time with her.’

  ‘I can take you to the hospital,’ said Frank. ‘I don’t want you riding your bike.’

  ‘We will arrange transport for you both,’ said Dylan.

  Gary’s eyes were agonised and questioned Dylan. It was apparent that he was in shock and in a very lonely place with his thoughts.

  ‘We know Davina’s parents are not alive but does she have any family that we need to inform? And what about you Gary? Do you have someone who we could contact to be with you?’

  ‘No... My parents... they’re local. God, this is going to give them a heart attack, she was a daughter they never had... Davina was the kindest, loveliest, most thoughtful person that ever walked the earth...’ Gary’s tears freely rolled down his cheeks. He began shaking uncontrollably. Frank got up from behind his desk and walked towards him, stopping only to wipe away his own tears. He put a comforting arm around Gary’s shoulders.

  ‘Come on son,’ he said.

  ‘Why Frank? Why Davina? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Who would want to kill her?’

  The sadness in the room left no one untouched. Dylan focused on the job in hand and nodded at Vicky and PC Bullock. They stood.

  ‘DS Hardacre and myself will be at the hospital to meet with you shortly,’ said Dylan. ‘After the post-mortem I will sit with you and explain what we know. I can assure you that I won’t keep anything from you throughout the enquiry no matter how upsetting it maybe.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Gary softly. ‘I appreciate it.’

  ‘PC Bullock here is your family liaison officer and she will be available to you at all times. She will be in constant touch with me and the rest of the team throughout the investigation.’

  ‘I can take you in my car to Harrowfield Hospital Mortuary Gary, Frank ?’ said PC Bullock.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Gary, looking at Frank.

  Frank nodded as he wiped his eyes. ‘Yes.’

  ***

  Dylan walked out of the fire station a different man from the one that went in. Each death notice took its toll. That was one thing that wouldn’t be disputed by any of his colleagues.

  On the way to the mortuary Vicky was unusually quiet. ‘The bastard who did this needs catching and fast,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m glad you did that. I don’t think I could have talked to him without bursting into tears myself,’ she said as she looked across at Dylan.

  ‘Murder causes devastation for families and friends of the victim... and,’ he sighed, ‘the survivors are the ones who are left serving a life sentence.’

  Dylan was deep in thought.

  ‘We need to speak to the coroner’s officer before Gary and Frank get to the hospital. I want him to get a sheet draped on top of the body bag. Have it opened just enough so Gary can see the upper part of Davina’s face to identify her. Tell Geoff Painter he’ll need to get the lights dimmed in the viewing room. I don’t want Gary to see her toothless, swollen mouth. After the post-mortem, when she’s been cleaned up, then he can see her.’

  PC Bullock was an experienced officer and she had spent hours with bereaved families. Dylan was pleased he had her on board for this investigation. He made a mental note to ask her to obtain a photograph of Davina for the press and one that Gary liked. He knew that once he gave it to the media it would appear in all the newspapers and be shown on the TV news.

  Dylan parked in the hospital car park and whilst Vicky went to get a parking ticket he took the opportunity to ring Jen. Maisy had banged her leg at the play gym, he was told, but his wife had kissed it better and she was straight back on the apparatus.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ said Dylan smiling. ‘Tough as old boots.’

  ‘You had time to speak to Hugo-Watkins yet about the promotion board results?’ Jen shouted over the screams of the tots at Jimmy Tumble Gym.

  ‘No, not yet but I have a date for my debrief at HQ with the Assistant Chief Constable.’

  ‘How they can profess, in all honesty, to having a transparent, equal opportunity police service is totally beyond me,’ said Jen

  Dylan smiled. ‘Me neither, but we’re in a disciplined service and they can do pretty much what they want, so for now I’m still an Inspector and I’m happy doing what I do,’ said Dylan.

  ‘You’re too bloody soft. You know what they’ve done borders on corruption.’

  ‘Yes, well, right
now I need to be focused on this murder enquiry and not some pointless paper exercise. Seeing a young corpse on a post-mortem slab has a way of bringing home to you just what matters, and that’s definitely not worrying about what rank anyone holds in the police force. I don’t know what time I’ll be home tonight. I’m at the mortuary waiting for the PM to start.’

  ‘Really? Oh, God, the girl on the canal, it’s murder?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘That’s my day mapped out tomorrow too then when I’m back at work.’

  ‘We are in the process of getting the incident room up and running. Just for your info I’ve pulled Vicky in on it. DC Ned Granger as Exhibits Officer, PC Bullock Family Liaison Officer and DC Andy Wormald is working on it too for now.’

  ‘I heard snippets about it on the radio but there was no suggestion of a murder enquiry.’

  ‘The press office will be putting a statement out very soon I expect. We’re just waiting for her boyfriend to ID her.’

  ‘You got some mints for the PM and a bottle of water?’

  Dylan’s eyes flew to the compartment in his car door and put his hand in his pocket to ensure his mints were ensconced. ‘I have yes, thanks,’ he said.

  Extra strong mints were Jack Dylan’s way of dealing with the putrid smell of the mortuary. He knew only too well how he could be stood for hours at the side of an examination table once the post-mortem began.

  ***

  The identification of Davina Walsh was positive. Gary was only saved from collapsing on the floor by Frank his station master and friend. Tears were shed and now PC Bullock was with them in a private room at the hospital whilst he answered the coroner’s officer’s questions. A formal written statement of identification was required.

  Dylan spoke to Gary briefly.

  ‘I couldn’t see all of her face,’ said Gary to Dylan. ‘I suppose that was on purpose. PC Bullock said she needs cleaning up.’

  ‘You didn’t need to see any more of Davina to recognise her did you?’