The Hiding Place

by Helen Phifer

  ‘Thanks, Fin, I appreciate you coming. I’ll see you later maybe.’

  He nodded but was already opening the front door. He shut it behind him a little too loudly.

  They looked at each other then grinned.

  ‘I think you’ve upset your new boyfriend.’

  She tutted. ‘He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t know why he started acting like he did. I barely know him.’

  ‘Do you like him though?’ The question came out of his mouth before he had time to censor it.

  She shrugged. ‘I do; he’s handsome and charming. He seems to know an awful lot about everything and he drives a nice car, but…’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I don’t know, I’m not really looking for anything other than a bit of fun. I’m too busy for a start, working for you all hours of the day and night.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I thought you liked being on my team.’

  Morgan put her coffee on the marble counter and walked around to Ben. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him.

  ‘I’m joking, I love working for you. I even like you, mainly because you bring me coffee but also because you’re probably the best friend I have.’

  He laughed and pulled away.

  ‘Crikey, Brookes, if I’m the closest thing to a best friend you have, you need to get out more.’

  She slapped his arm, then sat down opposite him.

  ‘So, what are we going to do?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’m going to get ready then we’re going to attend Charlie’s post-mortem, after that we are going to search hell or high water for Macy.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Morgan rolled her eyes at him.

  ‘You’ll make a pretty good DS one day, probably even DCI if you keep at it.’

  ‘What about you, why haven’t you gone for your inspector’s board exam?’

  ‘I wanted to a few years ago, but then after Cindy I realised that work wasn’t everything and who did I need to impress. I don’t need a bigger house; the one I’m in is far too big for me to rattle around in. I have no family to provide for. I figured that what I was doing was enough to keep me sane; I didn’t want any more. I wanted a bit of work-life balance, to spend more time going for walks along the fells, reading, you know, that kind of stuff.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Do I what?’

  ‘Read more, go out walking, that kind of stuff.’

  Ben laughed, shaking his head. ‘Erm, not since you arrived on my team, Morgan. Ever since you joined us, Rydal Falls seems to have catapulted itself from a sleepy, Lake District town into the murder capital of the northwest.’

  ‘Oh, Ben, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Morgan, I’m not blaming you. I’m grateful we ever met. That day when you were fresh out of training at the Potters’ house seems so far away, like years away, but in reality it’s not even twelve months. You are a huge asset to my team. You are also the cause of a substantial amount of grey hair – why do you think I shaved my head? – and a fair few more worry lines on my forehead, but they are a small price to pay to have such a brilliant detective on my team. I’m going to go home and shower because I need to change, then should I pick you up or are you driving?’

  ‘I’ll come for you, in an hour. That should give us more than enough time to get to the hospital.’

  He nodded as he walked to his car. He felt guiltily relieved that Emily’s blue Mini Cooper was nowhere to be seen and neither was the Porsche. Emily was lovely and good company, but she was a little forward and he didn’t know if it was his age, the fact that he still felt guilty over Cindy’s death or the small spark of fire he kept having to extinguish inside his chest when he thought too much about Morgan. Whatever it was, he was happy to keep their relationship as light and uncomplicated as possible, but he had the feeling that Emily wanted much more than he could give her at this time.

  Twenty-Three

  This time there was no need to walk through the busy A&E department to get to the mortuary; they went to the side door and rang the bell. It was opened by Susie, who was dressed in blue scrubs. Her magenta hair was in a high ponytail, showing a beautiful large, newly acquired, lifelike black and grey rose tattooed on the left side of her neck; a pair of earbuds were pushed firmly in her ears. She grinned to see them both.

  ‘Morning, the boss is just getting ready.’

  They stepped inside, and she closed the door behind them, locking it.

  ‘Your hair looks amazing and that tattoo is gorgeous, Susie. Who did it?’

  Morgan felt Ben’s eyes boring into her and she knew he was thinking WTF, but he was a bit old-fashioned and Morgan loved tattoos.

  Susie removed an ear bud. ‘What?’

  ‘I love your hair and that tattoo. Where did you get that done?’

  ‘Aurora Tattoo. It’s only around the corner, on Brock Street. They have the most amazing artists working in there. If you want one ask for either Emma, Sammi or Kerryn. It’s so cool, it’s in the basement of an old church, you’d love it, Morgan. I always wanted to be a tattooist but I’m not very good at drawing, then this job came up and I thought working with dead people was probably the next best thing.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll take a look.’

  Ben was staring at Susie, wide-eyed, as if she was from a different planet, and Morgan glared at him.

  Declan appeared at the doorway and smiled. ‘Is Susie telling you about her fantasies again? She can’t draw a line straight on a dead body that isn’t moving; God forbid she ever tried to tattoo anyone who was alive.’

  Susie stuck her tongue out at Declan, and Morgan was happy to see the pair of them were getting along much better than the last time she’d been here, when Declan had done nothing but complain about his new assistant.

  He rolled up his sleeve to show them his latest tattoo: a black and grey lion with the greenest eyes Morgan had ever seen.

  ‘She’s right though, they are amazing; Sammi did mine. Come on, Morgan, show us yours. I know you have a few.’

  Ben spoke before Morgan began rolling up her trouser leg.

  ‘They’re all very nice but can we get this over with, please?’

  Declan nodded at Morgan. ‘Yes, of course we can. Just a bit of banter, Ben, to ease us into the next couple of hours. Which are going to be horrific, by the way.’

  Declan addressed Morgan, ‘He’s jealous because he’s boring and isn’t one of the cool club, aren’t you, Ben? Hey, maybe you and Morgan can get matching bestie tattoos and go together.’

  Morgan stifled the laughter that was threatening to explode from her mouth because Ben looked as if he was about to burst into flames, his face was so red.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, I’m getting carried away. I blame these two kids, such a bad influence. I don’t know how you stay on the straight and narrow, Ben, working with this one.’ He winked at Ben, who finally cracked a smile and his shoulders dropped a little.

  ‘Me either, it’s tough.’

  Declan clapped his hands together. ‘Right then, down to business it is. Would you both like to get suited up. Wendy and her very quiet colleague are already here. She’s an early bird that one; they were waiting by the door when I got here.’

  Morgan went into the changing room first, followed by Ben. They both began to wash their hands, and then put plastic aprons and gloves on. There was a narrow door which led into the mortuary. Morgan stared at it for a few moments wishing that something nicer was waiting behind it. Sighing she opened it, stepping inside and shivering at the difference in the temperature, as cold air was being blasted around the large, brightly lit, sterile room. Wendy and Isla, the new CSI, looked at them and nodded.

  Wendy said, ‘I’m photographing; Isla is bagging up. Isla, this is Morgan and that’s Ben, both of them are from CID.’

  Isla smiled at them. Along the back wall was the bank of fridges where the bodies were kept. Morgan glanced at them then back at the empty steel table in the middle of the room. The
radio was playing Smooth FM. Declan walked in and went straight to the radio, turning the station over to Radio 1.

  ‘I don’t think Charlie will want to listen to the sixties golden hour.’

  Morgan felt her heart tear a little and a lump form in her throat. God this was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she was glad to be here for Charlie; they hadn’t managed to help her when she was alive but they could do whatever they could to find her killer.

  As Susie went over to the fridges, Morgan felt her whole body tense. The heavy clang of scraping metal as she opened a door echoed around the room, setting Morgan’s nerves on edge. Susie pulled out the drawer with the small body in the middle of it. Both Susie and Declan wheeled it over to the table and lifted her effortlessly onto it; her shrouded body looked far too small to be lying on the huge cold table that could quite easily accommodate heavy adults. No one spoke, but all of them stared, until Wendy’s voice broke the silence.

  ‘This is so shit.’

  Declan answered. ‘It is, but we are here to take care of her the best possible way. Charlie might not have stood a chance in life, but we will make certain that between us all, we catch whoever did this to her.’

  Everyone nodded in agreement. Declan and Susie began to gently unwrap Charlie’s body. Morgan had to force herself to keep looking at the table when her pale, cold face was visible. She blinked a couple of times.

  ‘Well hello again, Charlie, it’s me, Declan, we met yesterday and I told you I was going to take care of you. You’ve been a very brave girl. I hope you understand that what we do today is out of necessity; we have to find out what happened to you, sweetheart.’

  Wendy was openly crying, and it took Morgan every piece of strength not to join in with her. Ben was looking away. Susie carried a box of tissues over to Wendy and patted her back as she offered her one.

  ‘Sorry, I just… I have a niece the same age and—’

  Declan gave her a couple of minutes to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

  She held her head up high and nodded. ‘Right, I’m ready.’

  No one judged her; they all felt the same way.

  Declan smiled at her. ‘We’ll let you photograph her before we remove the clothes and the bandage. Let’s hope that whoever bandaged her head left us some nice DNA evidence behind, so that we can catch the bastard as soon as possible.’

  Morgan was praying that wrapped inside that bloodstained crepe bandage was a hair with a follicle to extract DNA from. It would be a miracle and save them lots of wasted time. At the back of her mind was an image of Macy, who had snuck out of the house when she shouldn’t, to go and buy a bar of chocolate. How many kids had done the same without a second thought? She used to sneak out of Stan’s house to go and meet her friends. You didn’t think of the consequences such a small action could have. Macy had got herself a bar of chocolate and gone straight home to eat it. She hadn’t expected to be abducted by a child-killing monster, neither had Charlie.

  ‘Well the X-ray was right.’ Declan pointed to the left side of the skull. ‘Death was caused by blunt-force trauma, which looks to me like it happened perimortem.’ He looked around at everyone, took in their confused expressions. ‘It means this injury, which is catastrophic by the way, was caused around the time of death and was the cause of death. If it didn’t kill her immediately, it wouldn’t have taken long. See the fractures in the skull; they were caused by the velocity of the blow. The cranium is a complex structure of bones that protects the brain and is made up of three layers: the outer table, which is the hard outer layer of bone; the inner table, which is the inner layer of hard bone; and the spongy layer between the two is called the diploe. Whatever caused this blow has caused the outer, inner and the diploe to shatter; radiating fractures have spread outward from the site of impact.’

  Ben, who was trying to look everywhere but at Charlie’s fractured skull, asked, ‘So, what do you think caused it?’

  ‘Hard to say. There are many objects that could have been used but there are no distinguishing marks which can be identified. Sorry, I’m not being very helpful, am I? It was definitely a heavy blunt object. I’ve seen similar injuries in the past. She’s either been hit by a heavy object or—’

  ‘Or?’ Morgan asked.

  ‘Or she could have been hit by a car or a van, something with those big metal bull bars or a heavy-duty bumper would have had sufficient force behind it to cause that kind of injury. Although there doesn’t look like there are any other injuries except for that linear abrasion on her right arm.’

  He picked up her arm to examine the long, thin scratch.

  ‘This was caused by the relative movement of a pointed object on the skin. Something like a nail, a thorn maybe; it could even be an animal scratch. Susie, get this swabbed, please, just in case our killer accidentally scratched her and left us some nice DNA behind. It’s definitely not from a high-impact collision, there would have been a lot more abrasions and cuts if it had, I’d also expect to see lots of bruising if that had been the case. The head injury would have to have been more of a slow-motion impact.’

  Morgan instantly thought about Brett’s pickup; it had a big chrome bumper running around the front of it, she was sure it did. Had he gone to see Charlie and somehow accidentally ran over her head then panicked?

  Ben asked, ‘What about time of death?’

  Declan glanced up. ‘Well rigor mortis was in full swing when we brought her here last night, so she had been dead for anything up to thirty hours. I suppose if you take it from the time of the log that was called in reporting her missing, you’ll have a good estimation. The lividity, or purplish discolouration on her back to you and me, tells us she was lying on a flat surface for at least six hours.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well it begins within thirty minutes after the heart has stopped beating. It can only be altered if the body is moved in the first six hours; after that it’s fixed because the blood vessels begin to break down. Hopefully, when we examine her stomach contents there may be something in there that will give us an indication and a better time frame. The digestive system stops working after death, creating a time capsule of a victim’s last moments. It varies, but typically it takes around six hours, depending on the food consumed after eating, for the stomach to be completely emptied of digested food. If there’s nothing in there then she didn’t die as soon as she was taken.’

  Morgan shuddered at the thought; poor Charlie. She was scribing and wrote everything down that Declan said, so they could go back to the station and work out a timeline and any clues that needed following up on.

  When Declan finally stood up straight with a groan, Morgan felt a sigh of relief. The bandage hadn’t given away anything other than what they were assuming was Charlie’s own blood, but it had been bagged up ready to be sent off for analysis. Declan took the small metal bowl containing the contents from Charlie’s stomach to the long workbench, to take a look at it.

  ‘Ah, I think we’re in luck. There are some chunks of undigested pineapple and what I think is ham.’

  Morgan looked at Ben. ‘Pizza, we need to find out what Charlie ate before she went out.’

  He nodded.

  Declan added. ‘Pizza normally digests in a couple of hours, so if she did eat it before she left her house then she died within two to three hours of eating it. Does this help narrow your time frame?’

  ‘Yes, it does. Thanks, Declan.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, Ben. Now at least we know that, thankfully, nothing of a sexual nature happened to her. The only injuries Charlie sustained were the fatal head injury, and that single scratch on her arm.’

  ‘If it was an accident, and whoever had done this had got her to the hospital, would she still be alive?’

  Declan turned to look at Morgan.

  ‘That is a very good question, but the answer is no. The impact caused such catastrophic fractures to her skull, which would have resulted in Charlie dying even if they’d rushe
d her to the hospital. There wasn’t anything they could have done to fix it. Now, if you want to leave the rest of this to us, we can fix Charlie up a little better. Can’t we, Susie?’

  Susie nodded and smiled at Morgan. ‘Yes, I’ll sew everything back together neatly. Her mum will never know any different.’

  This made her feel better. Ben turned to leave, and she followed. Behind her were Wendy and Isla, carrying the brown paper sacks containing Charlie’s clothes.

  Twenty-Four

  Detective Constable Amy Smith was filing her nails, the heating blasting hot air around the small Ford Focus whilst she waited near the entrance to Cedarwood Grove for Brett Mosely to put in an appearance. She’d been relieved not to have to go to the kid’s post-mortem – as tough and experienced as she was she still hated having to deal with murdered kids. Thankfully, it didn’t happen very often in this part of Cumbria. She’d sent Des to get coffee and something to eat. She really fancied a nice, big, gooey slice of cake but knowing Des he’d come back with two goat’s cheese salads and a bag of veggie crisps. He had a newish girlfriend he was trying to impress with his vast culinary knowledge and healthy eating, which was fine. God knows she was always trying to make better choices when it came down to her food, but there were certain limits and if he turned up with anything that contained goat’s cheese or tofu she didn’t think she’d be responsible for her actions. As if to confirm it, her stomach let out a huge growl. She saw a flash of silver in the rear-view mirror as he parked the car and waited for Des to bring her food to her. They were in separate cars so they could go for toilet breaks and coffee breaks but still be keeping watch. As the passenger window slid down, she saw a large paper coffee cup come through it along with a brown paper bag.

  She stared him in the eyes and asked, ‘What’s in the cup and the bag?’

  ‘Jesus, Amy, how about thank you so much Des for going and getting lunch, I really appreciate it.’

  ‘No thanks until I know what it contains and it better not be a soya decaff latte.’