‘Once we have all we can get we’ll feed it into CATCR and CrimCom here. We can also access HOLMES, InterCat and other databases in the USA, the UK and the equivalents in other countries,’ Adams said.
Can we have another look at these murder scene pics, Bob? Put them up on screens one and two, eight images,’ he continued.
Fraser complied.
‘As it happens we were discussing your murders when you called, reviewing one of our current cases. Someone suggested a similarity between it and a nasty unsolved in the Daintree. Ring any bells for you?’
‘I seem to recall … last month, wasn’t it? One of my people said something similar, oddly enough. Have they identified that body yet.’
‘I spoke to Cairns last Friday and no, they hadn’t,’ said Warne. ‘If he was microchipped it’s gone. Same with fingerprints, palm prints and so on, all gone, eaten or rotted away, they think but the hands look as though they may have been burned too. No DNA record ... now that is very strange. The lab’s trying dental but he had near perfect teeth and the only work he had done, a molar implant, was not done in Australia, Asian maybe, about a year ago. They’re still waiting on a response from InterCat. He must have come in on a tourist visa but we don’t seem to be able to find him yet. The ME’s report shows he was tied up with a thin wire rope and tortured before his throat was cut. They’re sending the body down here for another autopsy. Their equipment isn’t quite as sensitive as ours here.’
‘Why wire? That’s a bit odd.’
‘Well, it gets pretty wet and humid up there. Maybe he, the murderer, didn’t want the rope to rot away or be gnawed by rats. Or maybe that’s all he had with them. It says there were traces of mud on the wire. It could be a tow rope. You need them up there in the wet season.’
Donna Price broke in, ‘Warne, you said before “not really”. Does that mean they have some idea who he was?’
‘Could be. They think the chap was staying in one of the rainforest lodges at Cape Tribulation. He’d paid in advance for a week’s stay, said he wanted complete seclusion to finish writing a book. They went looking for him when he didn’t turn up at the office to check out but there was no sign of him. His bag was gone and the room was clean. Not only clean but apart from actual furniture, cleaned out. Even the bedding, towels, crockery—all gone. Not a fingerprint, not a hair … nothing. Name on the register was Neil Laker, no ID scan, but the resort manager gave a description of him and said he had a posh accent, meaning English.
‘The body was spotted by a couple canopy surfing … they were looking at their vids that evening and saw the body. Do you want us to follow up, sir?’
‘No, we’ll leave it for now. The only real similarity is the tree. And maybe the torture, if it was torture,’ said Adams.
‘Now let’s have a closer look at this one. Bob, the reports on the Richardsons. And I think we all might have a copy of the Medical Examiner’s report, thanks. Give me your thoughts after you all read them.’
The medical report gave an horrific picture of what had been done to the couple. They had been tortured: all the woman’s fingernails on one hand were missing, his toenails likewise. Their fingers and toes were scorched black, probably a laser torch, the report said. Their tongues had been severed while still alive and both had been sodomised with some large rough object, judging by the lacerations. His belly had been sliced open as was hers, mercifully after death.
They had been tied together and their arms wrapped around each other and tied at the wrists. Their legs were joined and tied together at the ankles. His penis was missing, possibly dropped there and eaten by some creature. The ME had speculated that they had been stabbed to death but there was too much damage to show with what. There was no sign of microchips as the skin on their arms had been flayed and burnt.
Price said, ‘There’s nothing here about the rope used to hang them up or what was used to tie their hands and feet together.’
Kerry Jacobsen responded, ‘That report just came through as I was leaving and there’s a follow up on the door-to-door too. I’ve got it on here. Can I use this network pad?’
‘What’s that you’ve got?’ Nick asked as Jacobsen brought out a small silver object about the size of a credit card with a mirrored surface. He placed it on the pad and it immediately glowed.
‘It’s a Tyle, sir.’
‘A tile? What does it do?’
‘Yes, a T-Y-L-E. It’s a new minicomp, a VersaTyle, that’s the brand.’ He pressed his thumb on the side of the small tile and as they watched, a keyboard was projected on the desktop. A holo screen slid out and up, hovering a little to one side.
As they watched it connected to the network around the table, then beeped softly to signal readiness.
Jacobsen touched a couple of keys and the new information appeared on the screens of the others. Suddenly he had three or four of them over his shoulder saying things like, Where did you get that? How much was it? Can you get me one?
Adams broke in. ‘Come on, people, this is a murder investigation, not an electronics fair. Evaluate the new material, not the means of delivery.’
They slithered back to their seats, casting covetous looks down the table.
‘Okay, okay. I’ll ask for all of you. So, Kerry, where did you get the VersaTyle?’
‘Well, sir, it’s just about to be released on the market … next week, in time for Christmas. My nephew’s an e-man, in the research arm of Versa Electronics outside Parkes. He had a hand in developing it so he sent me one for an early Christmas present.’
‘Versa …Versa Electronics, I’m sure I’ve seen that before. Oh yes, our duplicators are Versa DoppelGangers. Parkes—where’s that?’
‘It’s about 350 kilometres west. When I first booted up the Tyle it came up with all this stuff about Parkes, the history of the old radio telescope and the Versa plant there. I can shoot it through to you and you can look at it later, if you like.’
‘Yes, do that, but now let’s have a look at what’s in those reports.’
They read through the report of the ropes used but there was very little there to give much hope. Standard zylon ropes available at any number of superstores or online. The knots were also standard, no esoteric fancy stuff there. The noose wasn’t tied with a hangman’s knot; it was used to suspend the bodies, not to strangle them.
The crime scene team had come up with nothing new. The track had been thoroughly swept by a vehicle using hover mode and trailing branches; the pile of discarded foliage had yielded nothing of use. No footprints, no fingerprints, no tyre tracks, no nothing. In fact the only unusual thing was the closed gate.
‘I wonder why they closed the gate. It would have taken some effort to do that.’
‘Yes, the park ranger I spoke to said those gates hadn’t been moved for about ten years. Last time he remembered was after the big bushfires in ‘58. They closed access to all the national parks throughout the Blue Mountains to give them time to regenerate.’
‘I think maybe they closed the gate so no one could drive in. You might not find the bodies unless you were walking,’ someone suggested.
‘That’s a thought. What about the search of the Richardson’s house … anything of interest there?’
‘Oddly enough, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a house so empty of personal stuff. No photographs, no correspondence or personal emails, just the usual statements and bills on their computer. No diary, a small electronic address book, local names only, not many clothes. A lot of cosmetics, the usual drugs and medicines. The only odd thing was a large supply of tanning pills and hair dye, black hair dye, a couple of wigs.
‘We asked the housekeeper about this absence of personal stuff but she said she’d never been upstairs. Just in the kitchen, living room, dining room and the small guest bathroom. Her own rooms, small sitting room, bedroom and ensuite, are on the other side of the kitchen. They used robots for the rest of the house. The Richardsons were pleasant but impersonal, secretive. No real commu
nication, no cosy gossiping over a morning cuppa.’
‘Sir, do you think we should go and have a shufti at the site? Maybe talk to Jim Lawrence again?’ asked DI Gold. ‘I notice a mention of an old house not too far away. Could have been someone there, you know, keeping out of sight. ‘
‘Mmm, worth a look, maybe. I’ll arrange for us to get up there tomorrow morning. Is there anything else we need to look at now?’
‘Nothing that can’t wait. No requests in the pipeline. In fact the whole state’s been very quiet this past week. An accidental death in North Sydney, Lavender Bay, I think, a bloke fell and drowned in his bath or something.’
‘No, nothing much my end either,’ said Price. ‘A woman stabbed her cheating boyfriend up in Rockhampton. A girl, a model, reported missing in Perth, may turn out to be murder they think. No calls for our input at this stage. The citizens are being remarkably restrained. Let’s hope it means a quiet Christmas.’
‘Wrap it up and go to lunch then you can go back to whatever you were working on. I’ve got Tasmania and Victoria this afternoon ... unless … Gabriel, would you like to deputise for me the rest of this week? I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be needed on this one.’
Thomas looked delighted. ‘Of course, Nick, anything to help out. What about the other states and New Zealand?’
‘See the DCI, Brenda Kane, this afternoon; she should be here soon. She said she had a couple of things to discuss. New Zealand, that’s tomorrow … holo meeting in Conference Room C. It’s all set up for nine o’clock our time. The others … check the log. Mrs Halifax will look after the details.
‘Consultation with the Terrorist Liaison Group on Thursday. Talk to Mrs Halifax about that too. Maybe something in the wind there. Let me know.’
‘Happy to be of assistance, sir.’
Adams laughed. ‘You lazy sod. You just want to stay here in the nice, cool, comfortable building. I don’t blame you, it’ll be stinking hot out there.’
‘You reckon this is hot. You should have been up in Cairns a few weeks ago.’ Thomas grimaced at the memory and passed a hand across his forehead.
‘I’ve had too long sitting on my arse these last few weeks-bloody paperwork even if it is all e-work. About time I got my hands dirty. Off you go then. Any bright ideas put them in writing and send to my work comp or phone. Gabe, hang around, please. Jacobsen, er, Kerry, a few words if you’ve got a minute.’ The three men sat as the others filed out.
‘Thanks for bringing this to us. Now do you think your lot could spare you? I’d like you as part of the follow up team if you are interested.’
‘Yes, sir. I’d like that.’ Jacobsen paused then said, ‘I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Would you have a word with my boss?’
‘Yes, I’ll fix that. We’ll get started tomorrow so unless you hear otherwise trot along here at about eight-thirty. Oh, and can you contact Penrith and let them know we’ll be making a courtesy call … or should I? No, I’ll leave that to you.’
Adams walked him out to the outer office where Mrs Halifax was staring at her computer screen intently. ‘Till tomorrow then. Goodbye, Jacobsen.’
Chapter 11
Once he’d gone, Nicholas turned to Mrs Halifax, ‘Did you get all that?’
‘Of course, sir.’ She tapped her screen. ‘All in here.’ She frowned. ‘There was another blip … it was not long before Mr Jacobsen arrived. Was there anything …?’
The commander smiled. ‘I think I’ve nailed our mystery blip. I got a call from Marcus Havington on my personal phone. He’s security mad as you well know, only makes calls via his private satellite. Completely untraceable and encrypted, I understand.’
‘Oh, of course. I should have thought of that.’ Her face always softened when Marcus’ name came up and Nicholas thought she had a fondness for him. He knew the pair of them had had a working relationship back in the UK and he had been rather surprised when she had asked to be part of the relocation team. Surprised but pleased, as she was the most efficient person he’d ever worked with.
‘Go to lunch now, Mrs Halifax. Another team meeting this afternoon, Vic and Tas. Hope they haven’t got any strange bodies to report. DCS Thomas is taking over for a few days while I jump into some real work, get my hands dirty again.’
‘Can I bring you back something, sir?’
‘No thanks. I’ll just have a few words with Gabe Thomas then we’ll pop down to the canteen for a sandwich or something.’
‘Grab a seat, Gabe. I want to run a few thoughts by you. Now we’ve worked together to set these liaison groups set up for, um, nearly eight months now. I want your take on how it’s going, acceptance level in general terms, anything you’ve heard.’
Adams sat back and took stock of his 2-I-C. He saw a large, heavily built man, with a slightly battered but pleasant face. His dark hazel eyes could turn hard and dangerous in a second and had struck fear into many a bad boy in his time. His brown hair was still thick, just starting to show a little grey. His reputation as a hard man was well deserved but he was honest as the day and had never attracted anything but commendations for his performance.
‘Well, I have to admit the first few months were a bit … iffy … and there’s still a bit of resistance from some areas, but on the whole I think most of them are glad of a bit of extra input when they’re stuck. I can’t say I personally would have been told if there was anything serious, anyone plotting against us, as it were, but I keep my ear to the ground. No, I’d say it’s shaken down pretty well. So far we’ve had a one hundred percent success rate. That double murder on the Gold Coast back in August, we cleared that quick smart. The other seven or eight cold cases were really a doddle. I suspect they were tossed at us to keep us quiet and busy, test us out.
‘Then Hopkins and I sorted out that so-called terrorist plot.’ He laughed. ‘I shouldn’t laugh really, kids playing some computer game. Jack really got stuck into the little buggers, scared the shit out of them. Don’t know how we’ll go on the Daintree murder and this current one but it’s early days.’
‘Thanks, fair enough all round then. Now, I’m thinking of doing a bit of restructuring. How old are you, Gabe? Fifty-six? You’ve got what, fourteen years to early retirement? Plenty more if you extend.’
‘I … is something wrong. Do you want me off the team?’
‘Far from it, no, I’m thinking about keeping you in the office permanently. More or less taking over the rest of what I’ve been doing. You’re good with the meetings, the paperwork—all the bloody stuff I hate. You know everybody, everybody knows you and most importantly, you and Mrs Halifax have an excellent working relationship.’
‘Well, I don’t quite know what to say, except I’m in favour. Can I ask why, Nick?’
‘Frankly, I’m sick of sitting on my backside in an office all day, no matter how pleasant the surroundings. You know I’ve always been hands on and I want to get back to that. I’ll have a word with Commissioner Sherwood but I’m sure he’ll go along with it. If so we’ll make it official tomorrow. Now, let’s go and see what the caff has dished up for lunch today.’
‘I think the specials are mystery loaf and chicken surprise today,’ said Thomas with a grin. ‘Isn’t it amazing. Here we are in a land of milk and honey and the police canteen is the same as any police eatery in the world. Bloody awful.’ He laughed.
Nicholas Adams merely grimaced and headed for the elevator.
They settled for sandwiches and more coffee.
Nicholas decided to risk a personal remark. ‘What’s with you and Mrs H? Anything I should know about? You don’t have to answer.’
Gabe looked down at his cup and said nothing for a few seconds. ‘Her husband was in the Peacekeepers, same squad as me. We ran into an ambush … he and some others were killed. As his CO I had to go and tell her and the other families what had happened. She was very young, mid twenties, and I never forgot how courageously she took the news. Not a pretty girl, but something compelling about her.
‘So what about now?’
The big man sighed. ‘No, it’s too late now. But I like talking with her occasionally.’
Adams said no more about it and brought the conversation around to a discussion of where they were going next with the two cases before going back to the office. There was more than enough there to keep them busy all afternoon.
Chapter 12
Next morning Nick Adams arrived early, anticipating being away most of the day. He spent a half hour or so going over the reports from the previous day, then called DS York.
‘Has anything new come in on the Richardson murders, York? Other than crank calls? I’ve been going over the case files again and I’ve come up with something. Get hold of Fraser and come up to my office, would you.’
‘Yes, sir, he’s here with me and so are DI Gold and Mr Jacobsen. We’ll be up in a few minutes.’
Ryan York said, ‘Looks like the boss has found something new in this case.’
Jacobsen said, ‘Blowed if I know what it can be.’
‘That’s why they pay him the big bucks.’
‘Are you special unit people on the same pay scale as us plebs?’
‘Yes, standard pay scale, my friend. But a lot more than I was getting back in London. And the bonuses are … blue skies, warmth, plenty of food.’
‘Food? What do you mean?’ Jacobsen sounded surprised.
‘All food in the UK is strictly rationed. Very severe penalties for black marketing in anything … food, fuel, clothes. By severe I mean severe … life on a prison farm on one of the northern islands, or the death penalty in some cases. When given a choice most prefer the death penalty.’
STRANGE BODIES (a gripping crime thriller) Page 5