Crimesight

by Joy Ellis

  ‘I’m okay, Tommy. But I hear what you’re saying, and maybe I’ll have a chat with someone when I’ve caught the man who did this.’

  ‘You think it’s a man?’ he asked, adjusting the hood on his protective suit.

  Kate didn’t answer. Surely a woman couldn’t…?

  ‘I only say that because of the nice touches.’ He looked around. ‘Especially the flower vases and the neat way the victim’s clothes are hung up.’

  Clothes? Rather than contaminate the scene, they had only conducted an eyeball search.

  ‘Look, over on the far wall, that row of metal lockers. The victim’s clothes are all hung and labelled. Our killer couldn’t have been more helpful. Not only do we have first names, we have the clothes that these poor souls went missing in. Some are very fragile, little more than rags, but others are almost pristine.’ He looked around the underground room. ‘The atmosphere and the low temperatures down here have slowed up deterioration considerably. It will take a while to get answers to all your questions, you understand that, don’t you, Kate?’

  She nodded. ‘I do, but you also know that the man, or woman, who did this, was probably in this very room as recently as this morning, and now they are out there, somewhere close, and because of what they have just lost, I don’t have to tell you how dangerous they are.’ Kate stared at him earnestly. ‘I don’t have long, and if Emily doesn’t recover, I only have you to help me.’

  ‘And I will.’ Tommy Thorne gave her a rare smile. ‘I know the things that concern you initially, Kate. Identification, and cause and manner of death. Everything else will follow on progressively.’ His smiled faded. ‘One thing I do know, and that is from just the briefest of glances at our victims; one is very much older than the others.’

  ‘What is the significance of that, I wonder?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but we have one twenty to thirty year old corpse. I’ll give you a much closer estimation after we’ve carried out a post- mortem, but that one is definitely the oldest, so maybe she was the cause of all this.’ Tommy raised his thick, bushy eyebrows in wonder. ‘I keep thinking I’ve wandered into one of those weird modern art exhibits. You couldn’t stage anything more grotesque if you tried. It’s just too full of ambiguities to be real.’

  Kate knew exactly how he felt. ‘Can I take a look in those lockers?’ She raised her carefully gloved hands, and pointed to her own carefully zipped-up protective suit.

  ‘Of course you can, but you will notice that although there are thirteen victims, including your one survivor, there are only ten sets of clothing.’

  ‘It’s still a fantastic piece of luck, Tommy. It will help to identify them so much faster.’

  Tommy nodded, then said, ‘There’s one thing that I don’t like about this place, apart from blindingly obvious.’ There was a negative note to his voice that worried Kate. ‘What do you smell? If you disregard the stench of decay?’

  ‘Antiseptic? Bleach? Some sort of industrial cleaning fluid?’

  ‘Mm, exactly. And look at the floor. This is an underground storeroom, albeit disguised as a hospital ward, and there’s no dirt, no fluff, no cobwebs. I’ve got more dust-bunnies floating round my lounge, and my wife is verging on fastidious when it comes to housework.’ Tommy gave a little shrug. ‘I’d say this place is as near to sterile as he or she could get it.’

  ‘Which will play havoc with your search for evidence?’

  ‘I’m not saying that. Our methods are far more sophisticated these days. It’s almost impossible not to leave traces. We’ll just have to work a little harder than normal. And on that note, I think I’m ready for my team to come in now, so if you have no objection, we’ll crack on?’

  Kate agreed immediately. It was one of Prickles little idiosyncrasies, to do a preliminary assessment of the site alone, before he allowed the Soco’s to enter. He had told her once that he always liked to give the victims the opportunity to talk to him privately; before the cameras, the tweezers, the vacuum cleaners, the dusting brushes, the evidence containers and the body bags arrived.

  She walked towards the door. ‘Whatever you need, Tommy, just ask. Additional lighting, man-power, extra vehicles, anything. No-one will dare scream, “Budget!” this time.’

  Tommy nodded. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as we find anything that will assist you.’

  Kate raised her hand in thanks, and stood back as the first wave of blue-suited, hooded figures carried their vast array of equipment into the underground room.

  As she walked back along the tunnel she could hear Prickle’s voice bellowing out, ‘Not like that, you great oaf! Think egg-shells and butterfly wings, not bloody sides of beef!’ It hadn’t taken long for him to revert back to type.

  Kate smiled to herself. She’d known him for years, but never spent so long in the presence of that softer side, and although she appreciated the effort he’d made, she decided that she felt more comfortable when he was yelling at her. His concern had made her feel like some sort of victim, and as SIO there was no way she could afford to feel like that. The slightest hint of weakness leaking down from the top could totally demoralise a first-class team in a nano-second. So, if there was any display of weakness, it wouldn’t come from DCI Kate Reynard.

  As she hurried back to her troops, she made quite sure that her Iron Lady façade was firmly in place again, and as she strode out into the evening air over Hobs End Marsh, she began barking orders, just like Tommy Thorne.

  On her return to Saltfleet, Jon met her in the front office. ‘Gary’s brought Benedict Broome in as instructed, ma’am. But there was something of a problem, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Why what happened?’ Concern registered on Kate’s face. There was no way they could afford to put a foot wrong with this investigation. There was far too much at stake.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing to do with Broome himself, ma-am. It was his house-keeper, a woman called Elizabeth Sewell, she collapsed and she’s now being checked out in A&E. It was when she saw the uniforms marching up the garden path. Benedict told Gary that she’s of a ‘nervous disposition’. He says that she’s under medical care from the psychiatric out-patients department at Saltfleet General. We decided to get her thoroughly checked out, just to be on the safe side, especially as we’ll most likely be wanting to interview her.’ Jon sniffed. ‘And don’t worry; we’ve made sure that we have two officers with her until we can bring her in, and neither will question her about the case, so the clock won’t start ticking until she’s released from hospital care.’

  Tommy’s odd question sprung in Kate’s mind. “Are you sure it’s a man?” In her heart she was, but she was still relieved that their people were keeping this Elizabeth Sewell under surveillance. ‘And Micah Lee?’

  ‘He’s safe at Harlan Marsh.’

  Kate checked her watch. They could detain both Broome and Lee without charge for thirty six hours; twenty four on her own authority, then the further twelve on that of the Superintendent. From what they had found at Windrush, she had no qualms at all about arresting them, she just needed to find evidence to tie them to the crime itself. And from the amount of forensic work entailed in a finding of such magnitude, they had a hope in hell of getting answers before the time limitations expired. Every second counted, but they needed a bucket load of luck too.

  ‘Okay, so next up is the debriefing of the team. Is everyone here?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. They are all in the murder room waiting for you.’

  ‘Right, I’ll be there as soon as I’ve reported to Superintendent Edwards. Say fifteen minutes tops.’ Kate felt a slight thrill pass through her. ‘And then we can interview Broome.’

  Jon glanced about to see if anyone was in earshot, then said, ‘Before we do that, there’s something I need to talk to you about.’

  Kate looked at him intently. ‘Should we be talking now?’

  ‘No, it can wait until you’ve seen the Super. It’s not something for everyone to hear, if you catch my drift?’ He said wryly.
r />   Kate nodded. ‘Received and understood.’

  Megan Edwards looked closer to haggard than Kate had ever seen her. ‘Was it as bad as they tell me?’

  ‘Probably, ma’am. Maybe worse, I don’t know what they told you.’

  ‘Whatever, I’m sorry you had to be the one to walk in on such a terrible thing, Kate.’

  She shrugged; her hard woman image still firmly in place. ‘Better me than a family man with young girls of his own.’

  ‘And you have Broome and his caretaker in custody?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be interviewing them as soon as I’ve debriefed the marsh search team. Do you want to be present for that, ma’am?’

  ‘No, you go ahead. I’ve got the Assistant Chief Constable hanging around my neck for an update. And then there’s the media to sort out.’

  ‘Surely we’re not going public this soon?’ Kate gasped. ‘Hell, I need a bit of space before the frenzy begins.’

  She threw Kate a tired half-smile. ‘Cool down, detective. You know that I’ll hold it off for as long as I possibly can. I just need to be ready to jump in before someone leaks it. You know that I can’t keep the lid on something of this magnitude for long. We’ve got half the Fenland Constabulary out on Hobbs End Marsh, and whereas it’s hardly the metropolis of the Fens, people do notice, and they talk, and they ask questions, and if we don’t give them something to satisfy them, they put two and two together and come up with bloody five.’

  She was right. For all Kate knew, some web-foot had already seen pretty blue lights out on the fen and rung the local rag. ‘Sorry, ma’am, but buy me whatever time you can. Just enough to get the owner of Windrush interviewed and either held or released, which ever turns out to be applicable?’

  Megan Edwards nodded. ‘I’ll do that. Oh, and I’ve asked the other CID teams to re-organised their workloads and offer you whatever support you need, especially with the identification process. Just liaise with them directly, they are all yours.’ She straightened up, and something of the bristly old Super returned to her eyes. ‘Now go and sort out your debriefing, and don’t forget the new directive on psychological trauma. There’s confidential screening and a counselling service available, and it’s down to you to actively encourage anyone who is affected by this to talk to the shrink as soon as possible.’

  Right, blow everything out of proportion, and make the ones who have got it all sorted out in their heads believe that they should be basket cases. ‘I’ll make sure they know their options.’ Kate turned to make her escape.

  ‘Just keep me abreast of every new development, Kate. Everything, as it occurs.’

  ‘Wilco, ma’am.’

  The debriefing took considerably less time than she had thought it would.

  Kate was no expert, but the signs that she picked up from her officers were healthy ones. She was, after all, dealing with seasoned police men and women, not a bunch of impressionable school kids.

  As back-up, she had asked Rosie to keep an eye open for anyone who she considered to be struggling, but she agreed with Kate; to most of them it was just another job, a bit more gruesome than most, but hey-ho, we are the front line. Kate knew that when they got home and took their uniforms off it could be a different story, but already the grim jokes had started to do the rounds of the mess room and under the circumstances, she took that to be a good thing.

  ‘Who is at the hospital with Emily?’ She asked.

  ‘A uniformed WPC and one of DI Osborne’s detective constables, Guv. They have instructions to ring you directly there’s any news.’ said Rosie. ‘The last report was that she’s still in Resus, and they have no idea whether she’ll pull through or not.’

  For Emily, and for the other twelve victims and their families, Kate prayed that she would recover. Just a few words, just one name, or a description, and they could nail the bastard that did this.

  The room slowly emptied, until Kate was left with Jon and Rosie. She glanced at the clock. It was just after nine. ‘It’s too late to do a house to house tonight, Rosie, but I want you to organise one for first thing tomorrow. Get a couple of uniforms go out to Roman Creek and call at all the properties in the surrounding area. There aren’t many, but they need to check them thoroughly, okay?

  Rosie nodded in affirmation. ‘Will do, Guv.’

  ‘Tell them to be careful. There’s nothing to say this is the work of Broome or Lee, it could be anyone at all. So they should tread carefully and report anything unusual.’

  Rosie left the room, leaving Jon and Kate alone.

  ‘So, sergeant, you wanted to talk to me?’

  Jon leaned back in his chair balancing it with his heels. ‘When you went back underground with Prickles, I walked out over the marsh for a while, trying to clear my head. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of hundred yards when I heard whispering. Believe me, in the shadowy evening, it was seriously weird.’

  Kate looked at him with suspicion, ‘And was it the ghosts of Hobs End Marsh?’

  ‘No, it was you.’

  ‘Me?’ Kate exclaimed.

  ‘It took a while to realise that you and Prickles were right beneath my feet, in the tunnel. There must be air ducts or shafts or something that reach the surface, but they distort the sound and it’s so strange, Kate. Now I know why the marsh has such a reputation, and why only Gary’s sister heard voices. It would depend where you were standing as to whether you heard them or not.’

  ‘So she was hearing real people underground! Gary will be pleased to hear that.’

  ‘So should we, because it could answer the question of the singing.’

  She nodded slowly as the frightening picture became clear. ‘The killer actually sang as he walked the tunnels to the Children’s Ward?’

  ‘Well, we know that he’s been coming here for years, and smugglers before him, so that gives substance to the superstitions.’

  ‘The lights on the marsh at night could be connected too. If there are shafts coming up from the tunnel, and we already know that he ran power from the barn down to the subterranean room, maybe there were light points up on the surface sometimes?’ Kate grinned at him. ‘Well done, detective! You’ve just scuppered the Ghostly Legend of Hobs End Marsh!’

  Jon drew in a long breath and looked at her sheepishly. ‘Possibly, but there’s something else I need to tell you.’

  Kate tilted her head and looked at him suspiciously. ‘I don’t like that tone.’

  ‘Do you remember when Jamie Durham was dying, he mentioned someone standing over him and then he heard angels singing?’

  ‘Yes, but we’ve covered that. It was just the ramblings of…’

  ‘No, Kate, it wasn’t.’ Jon stared at the floor. ‘Someone really did find him, and left him to die. And as he walked away, he sang, like an angel. I heard it myself.’

  ‘You damn well went back!’ Kate exploded. ‘After I expressly told you not to!’ Her eyes flared with both anger and worry. ‘What the hell were you thinking, Jon? One of these days, one of your spirits will prove too strong for you. Do you want to be found wandering on the marsh, jabbering gobbledegook? God, that place is miles from anywhere. Where are your brains?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I just needed to know what happened to that poor kid.’ He looked at her apologetically, his dark eyes resembling that of a puppy Labrador that she had once owned. Kate’s anger turned to exasperation and she decided that when she chose her next team, they would all be as ugly as sin and hence much easier to chastise.

  ‘But the thing is; it could be the same man who took the girl’s bodies down the tunnel, and he left a partial print in the dirt on the boathouse floor. It wasn’t good enough for forensics to identify the make, but they’ve calculated the size.’

  Kate’s mind raced. ‘But we still can’t use it as evidence. Jamie was murdered by Cullen Payne, so there’s no link to this case. Plus, other than the dead boy, only you ever heard this beast sing, and even that wasn’t in real time.’

  ‘I know, but if we
find do him and he owns workmen’s boots, forensics might be able to tie them to the print. At least we will know, and then maybe we can do something about it.’ Jon paused. ‘Just like we normally do with our ‘inadmissible’ evidence.’

  ‘Problem is, in this county every man and his dog owns boots.’ Kate rubbed her chin with her forefinger. ‘But still, it’s a point.’ She wanted to go into it deeper but she also knew that they were on a tight time frame for holding their detainees. ‘Look, let’s get the interviews over and we’ll talk this through again. Unless you’ve got anymore nasty surprises for me?’

  Jon’s stilted reply took a few seconds too long.

  ‘Oh hellfire, Jon! You have, haven’t you?

  He gave a small nod and winced. ‘But right now we are getting close to the watershed for the interview. And it isn’t mind-blowing, it can wait.’

  Kate flopped down into a chair. ‘No. Five more minutes won’t make that much difference.’ She pointed to the chair opposite. ‘Sit, and tell.’

  Jon sat. ‘On my way back across the marsh and I heard singing again, but not from underground.’ He raised his eyebrows at Kate. ‘It was in my head, you know? Then I felt someone stroke the back of my neck, kind of ruffle my hair.’ Jon automatically touched his neck as he spoke. ‘I thought it may be the wind, but there was no breeze, and then I recognised the touch.’ He gave a shaky sigh.

  ‘Who’s touch..?’ Kate prompted.

  ‘Oh, it’s not important, but it was the spirits who touched me. They want to help us, I know it. There are so many souls in that underground room, and they need retribution.’