Fever of the Bone

by Val McDermid

  ‘And the castration?’

  ‘Judging by the blood loss, I’d say post mortem, but not by long. He’d have bled out if he’d still been alive.’

  ‘Amateur or professional?’

  ‘This is not the work of a surgeon. Nor of a butcher, I’d say. Your killer used a very sharp blade, a scalpel or something similar with a small cutting edge. But in spite of that he still didn’t get it off in one clean slice. He didn’t hack at it, but it took him three or four separate movements of the blade. So I’d say this is not something he’s had a lot of practice at.’

  ‘First timer?’

  Grisha shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say. But he was thorough, he didn’t just slash at it. Have the penis and testes turned up? Were they at the scene?’

  Carol shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Trophies. Isn’t that what your Dr Tony would say?’

  Carol gave a tired smile. ‘He’s not my Dr Tony, and I would never be crazy enough to second guess him. I wish he was here to weigh in with his tuppence worth, but that’s not going to happen this time out.’ Her voice was edgy.

  Grisha stretched his neck so his head moved backwards, like a man avoiding a blow. ‘Whoa, Carol. What’s he done to upset you?’

  ‘Not him. Our new Chief Constable, who thinks if I want profiling expertise I should stay in-house.’

  Grisha’s mouth made an O shape. ‘And we don’t like that idea?’

  Whatever Carol was planning to say was overtaken by a knock at the door. The familiar ginger curls of DS Kevin Matthews appeared round the edge of the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said, wincing a smile at Grisha.

  ‘You looking for me?’ Carol said, getting to her feet.

  ‘Yeah. There’s another teenage lad on the missing list. Central patched it straight through to us.’

  Carol felt a heaviness in her stomach. There were times when this job felt too much to bear. ‘How long?’

  ‘His parents thought he was having a sleepover. Only, he wasn’t.’

  Long enough, thought Carol. More than long enough.

  CHAPTER 16

  Julia Viner sat on the edge of a generous armchair, poised for movement, her fingers constantly working in her lap. Wiry dark hair threaded with grey was pulled back from her face to reveal fine-boned features and olive skin lightly scored with fine wrinkles. Her eyes were sharp and dark, like those of a small bird accustomed to the gloom of hedgerows and suspicious of the light. She wore a full skirt and a fine woollen jumper in dark burgundy. Kathy Antwon sat on the arm of the chair, one hand on Julia’s shoulder, the other thrust into the pocket of her jeans. Carol could see the bunch of her fist through the material. She had the angry scowl of someone who is afraid but daren’t let herself acknowledge the fear. Her light brown skin was flushed darker along the high cheek-bones, her lips pressed tight together.

  ‘What do you need to know? How can we help you find Seth?’ Julia asked, her voice tense.

  ‘We need you to be absolutely honest with us,’ Carol said. ‘Sometimes parents don’t want to tell us the whole story when children go missing. They don’t want to get their child into trouble, or they don’t want to admit that they have rows, like every other family in the world does. But honestly, the best thing you can do for Seth is not to hold anything back.’

  ‘We’ve got nothing to hide,’ Kathy said, her voice rough and heavy with pent-up emotion. ‘We’ll tell you anything you want to know.’

  Carol glanced at Kevin, who had readied his notebook and pen. ‘Thank you. The first thing we need is a recent photo of Seth.’

  Kathy jumped to her feet. ‘I’ve got some I took at the weekend. They’re on my laptop, hang on, I’ll get it.’ She hurried from the room. Julia looked after her, her expression slipping momentarily into bereavement. She’d pulled herself together by the time she turned back to face Carol. ‘What do you need to know?’ she repeated.

  ‘When was the last time you saw Seth?’

  ‘When I left for work yesterday morning. It was the same as any other morning. We had breakfast together. Seth was talking about some history homework project he wanted me to help him with. My degree is in history, you see. He thinks I know everything about anything that happened before the middle of last week.’ She spoke on a faint, breathy attempt at a laugh. ‘Then I left for work.’

  ‘Where is it you work?’ Carol said.

  ‘I run the education department at the city council,’ she said.

  That went some way to explaining how they afforded the sprawling ranch-style bungalow on its corner plot in the section of Harriestown known as the Ville. Back in the 1930s, it had been the home of De Ville Engineering Works, a vast sprawl that had built engines for planes, commercial vehicles and racing cars. In the 1980s, the last of the de Villes had seen where the future lay and exported the whole business to South Korea, selling the site to a local builder whose daughter had just married an architect whose heart belonged to Frank Lloyd Wright and the American Southwest. The result had been a landscaped development of forty houses that became an instant hit with style magazines round the world. Nobody could quite believe it, but those who had bought their houses off-plan soon found they had acquired some of the most sought-after real estate in the north of England.

  ‘And I’m a graphic designer,’ Kathy said as she returned carrying an open laptop. ‘That’s how we ended up here. I designed all the original brochures for the Ville, so I knew to buy in ahead of the crowd.’ She turned the screen to face Carol, revealing a full-screen head-and-shoulders shot of a smiling dark-haired boy with his mother’s olive skin and dark eyes. His hair was long, roughly parted on one side and falling halfway across one eye. A scatter of spots across his chin, a chipped front tooth and a slightly crooked nose finished the thumbnail sketch Carol was already drawing in her mind. ‘That was taken on Sunday.’

  ‘Is it possible for you to email it to my team? That’s probably the quickest way to get it out there.’ Carol was already fishing in her pocket for a business card.

  ‘No problem,’ Kathy said, putting the laptop on a side table and running her finger across the mousepad. Carol handed over her card, which included the generic email for MIT. They all waited while Kathy set the upload in motion. ‘Done and dusted,’ she said, returning to her partner in the armchair. Carol, acutely aware of Seth’s eyes on her, hoped the screen-saver would cut in sooner rather than later.

  ‘DCI Jordan was asking when we last saw Seth,’ Julia said, reaching up to clasp Kathy’s hand.

  ‘After Julia left for work, I walked down to the bus stop with Seth. Usually he goes off to school on his own. It’s only a three-minute walk to the bus stop. But we were low on bread and I decided to walk across to the supermarket. So we set off together. The bus arrived almost as soon as we got to the stop, and I waved him off. That must have been about twenty to nine. He’d already arranged to have a sleepover with his pal Will, so he had clean pants and socks and shirt with him.’

  ‘And as far as you know, he was at school all day?’

  ‘When he didn’t come home today as usual, I called the school,’ Kathy said. ‘They told me he hadn’t been in at all today. So I asked about yesterday. And he was in all his classes. I admit, I wondered if he’d sneaked off somewhere with his girlfriend and Will was covering his back. It wouldn’t have been like either of them, you understand? They’re not wild lads. But you wonder, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s only natural. We’ve all been teenagers,’ Carol said. ‘I certainly didn’t tell my parents all I got up to.’

  ‘So I checked with Will and with Lucie, his girlfriend. That’s when I found out he wasn’t at Will’s and never had been. Will said Seth had told him yesterday morning that he wanted to take a rain check, he had other plans.’

  ‘And Will didn’t ask what those other plans might be?’

  Kathy’s brows furrowed. ‘Not that he’s telling me. He might be a bit more forthcoming to someone with an official reason for asking, though.’
/>
  ‘That’s not fair, Kathy,’ Julia protested. ‘You’ve no reason to believe Will hasn’t told you all he knows.’

  Kathy rolled her eyes skywards. ‘You’re so trusting. If Seth told him not to say anything, he’s not going to tell me, is he?’

  Carol let the moment settle, then said, ‘Have you heard anything from Seth at all since he left yesterday morning? A text? An email? A phone call?’

  The two women checked with each other, then both shook their heads. ‘Nothing,’ Kathy said. ‘Not that that’s unusual. He doesn’t usually make contact unless there’s a reason. Like a change in arrangements. Which he didn’t communicate to us this time.’

  Kevin cleared his throat. ‘Is his girlfriend at home?’

  ‘Yes. I spoke to her on the landline at her house,’ Kathy said. ‘The last she saw of him was at lunchtime yesterday. They ate together in the school canteen - they’re in different streams so they didn’t see each other in class. But he didn’t say anything to Lucie about not going to Will’s. She still thought the sleepover was on.’

  ‘Did he often have a sleepover on a school night?’ Kevin asked.

  Kathy looked as if she wanted to slap him. ‘Of course not. We’re not the kind of wishy-washy liberals who let their kids run the game. Last night was out of the usual run of things. Will and Seth are big grunge fans, and one of their favourite bands was doing a live webcast. We said they could hang out together to watch it for a special treat.’ Her breath seemed to stick in her throat and she coughed helplessly. When she recovered, eyes streaming and face suffused with blood, she gasped, ‘Some fucking treat.’

  Julia put her arm round her and leaned her head against her arm. ‘It’s OK, Kathy. It’s going to be OK.’

  ‘Is there anybody else you can think of that he might have gone to visit or gone to meet?’ Carol said.

  ‘No,’ Kathy said wearily. ‘We’ve already tried his other school friends, but nobody’s seen him since yesterday.’

  Carol wondered if there was a tactful way to broach the subject of Seth’s biological parentage and realised there wasn’t. Still, it had to be dealt with. ‘What about his father?’ she asked.

  ‘He hasn’t got a father,’ Kathy said, weariness tempering what was obviously a source of irritation to her. ‘He’s got two mothers. End of story.’

  ‘Seth was conceived via AID,’ Julia said, her arm tightening round her partner. ‘Back in the days of anonymous donors. All we know about the donor is that he was five foot eleven inches tall, slim build, with dark hair and blue eyes.’

  ‘Thanks for clearing that up,’ Carol said with a smile.

  ‘Is that all they tell you?’ Kevin said. ‘I thought you got a sort of pen portrait. What they did, what their hobbies were, that sort of thing?’

  ‘It varies from clinic to clinic,’ Julia said. ‘The one we used only gives you the bare minimum.’

  ‘So there’s no way the father could track down his kid and make contact? Or Seth could track down his father?’ Kevin asked.

  ‘It’s donor, not father. No, it’s completely anonymised. Not even the clinic knows the name of the donor. Just their code number,’ Julia said. Her patience was clearly thinning.

  ‘And why would Seth do that? He’s never shown any curiosity about his donor. He’s got two parents he loves and who love him. Which is more than a hell of a lot of kids can say,’ Kathy said, openly belligerent now.

  ‘We appreciate that. But we do have to explore every possibility. ‘

  ‘Including homophobia,’ Kathy muttered. To Julia: ‘I told you what it would be like.’ Before Carol could respond, the doorbell pealed out. ‘I’ll get it,’ Kathy said, bounding out of the room. They heard the murmur of voices, then Kathy returned with Stacey Chen in tow. ‘It’s another one of your lot.’

  ‘DC Chen is our ICT expert. We’d like your permission to examine Seth’s computer,’ Carol said.

  ‘It’s in his room. I’ll show you,’ Kathy said.

  ‘I need a word with DCI Jordan first, if you’ll excuse us?’ Stacey said.

  As Carol left the room, she heard Kevin’s loyalty kick in. ‘She’s not got a homophobic bone in her body,’ he said. ‘Two of her team, two of her closest colleagues are both lesbians. She chose them, and she trusts them.’

  Nice one, Kevin. I bet that cuts absolutely no ice with Kathy. She’ll have Paula and Chris pegged as a right pair of Uncle Toms. Carol closed the door behind her and raised her eyebrows at Stacey. ‘News?’

  ‘The wrong sort. Daniel Morrison’s home computer isn’t web-configured. He only uses it for gaming and schoolwork. He’s got a webbook for all his online stuff. And he keeps that in his backpack when he’s out of the house. So we’ve got no electronic starting point.’

  ‘What about his email address? RigMarole account? Facebook?’

  Stacey shrugged. ‘We might be able to backtrack some stuff. But he could have a dozen or more email addresses and web presences we know nothing about. It’s a big blow. There’s only so much I can do with so little.’

  ‘Any joy with the CCTV?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing after he leaves Bellwether Square. I think he must have left in a vehicle.’

  ‘OK. Concentrate on Seth for now. Better we try to take care of the living.’ If he is still living, which in the light of Daniel’s death, I seriously doubt. ‘His mother’s just emailed a recent photo to our address, can you get that out force-wide asap?’

  ‘I’ll do it right now.’

  ‘Thanks. Keep me posted,’ Carol said, turning back to the living room, where the atmosphere was no easier than when she’d left. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you could show DC Chen where to find Seth’s computer? And we’ll need your formal permission to search it, since he’s a minor.’

  ‘Do whatever you need to do,’ Julia said as Kathy made for the door. ‘She didn’t mean to insult you, Chief Inspector. She’s just upset, and when she gets upset it comes out as anger.’

  Carol smiled. ‘I’m not easily insulted, Ms Viner. All I’m concerned about here is that we do everything we can to bring Seth home.’

  Julia visibly drew herself together. ‘When I was driving home. After Kathy called. On the radio. There was something about a murdered teenage boy.’ Her hand flew to her mouth and she bit down on her knuckles.

  ‘That wasn’t Seth, Ms Viner. We’ve positively identified that boy, and it is definitely not Seth.’

  Kathy walked back into the room in time to hear Carol’s words. ‘See, I told you, it couldn’t be Seth.’

  ‘Always the optimist.’ Julia clung to her arm.

  ‘We’ll be talking to Will and Lucie, and to Seth’s other friends. And we’ll be putting his photo out on our website and releasing it to the media. This is our number one priority right now,’ Carol said, getting to her feet. ‘Kevin will stay with you. If there’s anything else you can think of that will help us find Seth, tell him. I’ll be on the end of a phone if you need to talk to me.’

  Julia Viner looked up at her, eyes pleading. ‘Just bring him home. I don’t care why he’s disappeared or what he’s done. Just bring him home.’

  Her words echoed in Carol’s head all the way to the car. There was only so much she could do, but that was all at Julia and Kathy’s disposal. The thing was, thanks to her Bluetooth phone, she could make her phone calls as easily from her car as from her office. And there was another lost boy she owed some answers to. Carol started the engine and headed out of town on the Halifax road.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sam was not impressed with the moody grandeur of Wastwater. He found the mountains oppressive and the dark waters of the lake depressing. Why anyone would choose to come here for a holiday was beyond him. Walking was all well and good if you were on a Caribbean beach like his sergeant was right now. But the amount of freezing rain they got here must make it more of a misery than a pleasure. And what was there to do in the evenings? Sam loved to dance. He wasn’t picky; it
didn’t have to be one particular club or one specific DJ or a distinct style of music. He just loved to feel the rhythm course through him, to lose himself in the beat and to move with an abandon he revealed nowhere else in his life. He wouldn’t mind betting there wasn’t a dance venue within twenty miles of here. Unless it was Morris dancing, which was to dancing what the ploughman’s lunch was to food.

  He’d spent most of the day huddled in his car or in the underwater search team’s support vehicle. They weren’t a talkative lot. They’d taken Stacey’s list of co-ordinates and gone into a huddle over a chart, marking sections that he assumed corresponded to the search areas she’d suggested following her consultation with the satellite-imaging experts at Bradfield University. Some had donned wetsuits and strapped tanks of air to their backs then headed for the boat with its fat black inflatable rim. Sam hadn’t the faintest idea how they would go about the search. He’d never had any interest in diving. He couldn’t see the point. If you wanted to watch tropical fish, you could check out a David Attenborough DVD and never have to leave the comfort of your own living room.

  The day had dragged wearily on. Divers disappeared under water, spoke incomprehensibly via their radio link to the control team in the support vehicle, surfaced and disappeared again somewhere else. Occasionally, the boat would return to shore and the divers would swap with another team. Sam was almost beginning to regret being so diligent with the Danuta Barnes case.

  But then towards the end of the afternoon, everything changed. It was, he thought, the fifth dive. One of the resting divers walked briskly across to his car and made a circle with his thumb and first finger. Sam wound down his window. ‘Looks like we’ve found something, mate,’ the diver said cheerily.

  ‘What sort of something?’

  ‘A big bundle, wrapped in plastic. According to our boys, it’s tied to a bag made of what looks like fishing net, filled with rocks.’