Nine Lives

by Anita Waller

  The longer grass, away from the well-worn path, soaked Winston’s boots, but Max barked again and Winston could tell master and dog were pretty close. The bark wasn’t a bark of ‘let’s play’, it was more a bark of help requested.

  He dropped down towards the water and saw the little dog, facing a naked woman, barking at her as if he could wake her. Winston knew that wasn’t going to happen. ‘Here, Max,’ he said softly, and tapped on his knee.

  Max looked at the woman, and hesitated. Training took over and he left her, walking back to his owner. He waited until his lead was attached, then tried to pull Winston back towards the woman.

  ‘I know, Max, but this isn’t for us.’ He took out his mobile phone and dialled three nines. He knew of the four other bodies that had been found next to the river, but all crime scene tape had gone now, and this stretch of the river hadn’t really been affected anyway, other than the search he had noticed at the weekend. His shop wasn’t going to be open yet, he acknowledged, when the nice lady on the other end of the nine nine nine call asked him to wait until police arrived.

  Erica answered her phone shortly before six. She asked that her team be informed, and she wanted the refreshments truck on site all day.

  Flick handed her a coffee, then sipped at her own. ‘Do we know anything?’

  ‘Not yet, other than that chap with the little dog found her.’

  ‘The one walking away from us over the field?’

  ‘Yes, he owns the local newsagent’s, and needs to open up. I’ve asked him to say nothing, and we’ll go and chat to him later. He’s a bit shaken, but fine. The dog found her.’

  ‘Ivor here?’

  ‘In the tent. There’s an IX carved into the hand, and her fingertip is missing. I don’t expect anything to be any different to the others.’ Erica sounded tired. ‘It’s one step forward and two steps back all the time, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is. You okay?’

  ‘Tired. It took ages to get to sleep. Frannie had the day from hell, and she tossed and turned all night, and I was worried this would happen today. It was a perfect night for it. But we knew, didn’t we? Admit it, we both expected to be called out.’

  Flick gave a brief nod. ‘We did. Could we have prevented it? Should we have had patrols up and down the riverbank?’

  ‘We couldn’t have prevented her death. This river is merely the display cabinet. They’re dead before they get here. At the best, we would have driven her to find a different place to pose her. I feel so angry about it. Once again nobody’s seen anything. The chap who found her actually lives on the main road, but because it’s a main road the odd car parked on it won’t be noticeable. That’s what roads are for, cars.’ She sipped at her coffee. ‘When we eventually catch this cockwomble of a woman, I’d love half an hour in a room on my own with her. And we will catch her, never doubt that.’

  ‘I don’t. Cockwomble?’

  ‘My grandmother was Scottish. It was a major part of her vocabulary. Come on, let’s go see if Ivor has anything to tell us.’

  The text from Frannie asking if she was okay lifted Erica’s spirits. She said she was and that she would ring later, then took a deep breath before entering the autopsy suite. Ivor had promised a speedy one as they needed to identify the woman as soon as possible.

  Ivor gave a small wave of his hand as Erica took her position on the viewing platform. She was alone. Flick had gone to write the report of their morning’s activities and it briefly crossed Erica’s mind that she had been pretty quick to volunteer for that task. Although, when the alternative was an autopsy…

  She listened as Ivor began his preliminary findings, and he started with the right hand, confirming it was IX on the palm, and the tip of the right little finger had been removed post mortem. He gave an approximate time of death as between eight and ten the previous night, she was between twenty and twenty-five years of age, and there had been no sexual activity although she had recently given birth.

  Erica felt a shiver run through her and she leaned forwards to speak into the microphone. ‘How recently, Ivor?’

  He looked up. ‘Three, maybe four weeks.’

  ‘Ivor, see that I get the full report, will you? I need to start the search on this one right now.’

  He held up a thumb in acknowledgement, and she slipped quietly out of the viewing area.

  There were six people in the briefing room and she gathered them in front of the whiteboard.

  ‘We have a potential major problem with this one.’ She tapped the question mark on the board that would eventually be removed and replaced with a victim photograph. ‘We don’t know who she is, her fingerprints aren’t on our database for anything, but we do know she gave birth three or four weeks ago. We need to know where this baby is, who has him or her, but most of all we need to know the baby is safe and well. Thoughts?’

  ‘Hospitals,’ Flick said. ‘First port of call, I reckon. We know she’s white so we can rule out any other races. Let’s start with Jessops, that’s the main maternity one. We’ll move on to the Northern General if we have no luck there. Let’s hope to God she’s a Sheffielder, and not from out of town.’

  ‘Okay, immediate start on this one, Flick. I feel sick at the thought that this poor little one is on its own. Let’s hope it’s with grandparents or a partner, but if it is they may not realise our victim is missing.’

  In the end baby Noah Urland came to them, tucked warmly into a smart navy-blue pushchair, without a care in the world.

  His grandparents, Victor and Pamela Urland, were out of their minds with worry. They had looked after their four-week-old grandson to give their daughter a break, but they had been unable to contact her all day. Victoria had promised to collect Noah by eleven, and simply hadn’t appeared. She hadn’t rung, and they had repeatedly rung her mobile, to no avail. They had given in at midday and driven to the police station, as scared as they had ever felt in their lives.

  The quivery, scared voice of Pam Urland explained Victoria had been going to meet friends at one of the council bonfires the previous night, but had texted at seven to say change of plan, going to a local one. She had asked if Noah had settled, and when they reassured her he had, that was the last they had heard from her.

  Erica, newly arrived back from watching CCTV of the crime scene, took them into the room reserved for when they needed quiet, and broke the news to them that a body had been found. Pamela produced a photograph, and as soon as she saw Erica’s face she knew. Her husband took her in his arms and simply held her. He clearly didn’t know what else to do.

  The baby slept on, unaware that his life had changed for ever.

  26

  The turbulent tumbling waters of the Porter had calmed; they were a million miles away from being at summertime flow, but the officers seeking clues on its banks were all aware it was less frightening, less worrying.

  Ian had been left in charge, a role he stepped into without giving it any thought, and he split up the team, sending couples into different areas. He left them to it while he went across to talk to the newsagent owner, to get his morning actions down on paper.

  The shop was empty, and Winston Leonards was sitting on a stool behind his counter, reading a paper and eating a sandwich. Max was on his dog bed, chewing happily on something that resembled an elephant tusk, but proved to be a reindeer antler.

  ‘Mr Leonards? DC Ian Thomas.’ He showed his warrant card, then took out his notebook. ‘I have a few questions, then I’ll leave you to the rest of your day. We will need you to come in and give a statement at some point though.’

  Winston nodded. ‘No problem. Tomorrow’s my day off, I can do it then.’

  ‘What time did you leave the shop?’

  ‘Around half past five, give or take a couple of minutes. I open up at six – obviously I was a bit late this morning.’

  ‘And neither you nor your dog went near the body?’

  ‘Not at all. It was obvious she was dead. Max was about a metre away fro
m her, barking at her so I put him on his lead first, then rang it in. Max barked, quite a lot, but I think it was fear. I’m pretty sure he didn’t go anywhere near her, he was too scared.’

  ‘You didn’t know her?’

  ‘Not at all, and obviously I know lots of people around here, it’s the nature of my business. Is it the same sort of death as the others?’

  Ian paused for a moment, unsure how to answer. He sighed. ‘Yes, it is. Don’t broadcast it, but I suppose it will be in the newspapers you sell tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Poor lass. And so pretty as well. At least whoever is doing this isn’t mutilating them.’

  Ian didn’t respond verbally to this, simply put away his notebook and handed Winston his card. ‘If you think of anything that could be relevant, give me a call, will you? And don’t forget to pop in and give a formal statement. Thanks for your help, and I’m sorry you two had your morning walk ruined. I wouldn’t advise going that route tomorrow, it will have crime scene tape everywhere.’ They shook hands, and Ian walked out of the shop. He stood for a couple of minutes staring across the road to the grassed area that ultimately led to the river, his mind churning things over.

  He returned to the shop seconds later. ‘Mr Leonards – from this shop to where you found the body – which would be the most direct route of getting there from here? The route you took with Max or some other?’

  Winston laughed. ‘Definitely a straight line almost, from here. It was a miserable morning, I wanted to get out there, let Max do his business, and get back to the warmth of the shop.’

  ‘You have CCTV?’

  ‘I do. It’s rather cranky, definitely old, but you’re welcome to check if anything’s on it.’

  Ian walked back inside the shop, dropped the latch on the door and turned the sign around to say Closed. ‘We’ll only be a few minutes,’ he said, ‘and you can open again.’

  ‘Come through into the back room, the monitor is in there.’

  Ian followed Winston through, and watched as the man’s fingers clicked on keys to bring up the picture.

  ‘What time do you want to see it from?’

  Ian thought for a moment. ‘Let’s say eight o’clock last night.’

  ‘It’ll be grainy, but here goes.’

  The picture flickered and filled the screen.

  At nine thirty-two a dark-coloured Fiesta pulled up across the road from the shop, rendering the number plate invisible; the angle was wrong and the camera too basic. But it was clearly an older-model Fiesta, and of a dark colour. Nothing happened for five minutes and then the driver’s door opened slightly. It remained like that for two minutes, then opened fully and a figure got out of the car. The gender was unclear, and dressed in black.

  The figure leaned against the car, back towards the camera, but the action was clearly that of a smoker. The cigarette was finished and tossed casually away towards where the grassy beginnings of the field met the tarmac pavement.

  ‘Shit…’ Ian breathed. ‘Can you pause it while I go and search for that cigarette?’

  ‘Want me to come with you? I’ll take you to the exact spot.’

  Against all the odds, mainly the rain, they found it. Ian carefully picked it up and dropped it into an evidence bag before shaking Winston’s hand. ‘Thanks, mate. Let’s go and see what happens next.’

  Winston restarted the recording, and the figure opened the back door. A large suitcase was dragged out and dropped heavily onto the pavement. It was hoisted upright and the handle elevated. The figure glanced all around and grabbed at the handle before wheeling the suitcase onto the grassy bank. It took a little effort to get it up the initial small slope and onto the more-level field, but that was as far as the camera’s view went.

  Ian turned to Winston. ‘I’m so sorry but you’re going to have to keep the closed sign up. I have to bring Forensics in to download this, and I need to speak to my boss.’

  Winston laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it. At this time of day it’s mostly kids who come in for sweets, and they pinch more than they pay for. I’ll write today off, I think.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Ian took out his phone. ‘Boss? Can you get somebody from Tech or Forensics to come out to Winston Leonards’ shop? Remarkably interesting CCTV footage. It’s not crystal, but clear enough for me to have picked up a cigarette end the killer threw away after she’d smoked it. And before you ask, no it’s not obvious it’s a woman, not from this camera. And guess what? She’s not superhuman. She doesn’t carry the bodies, she wheels ’em.’

  Ian and Winston were enjoying a cup of tea and a bag of crisps when Erica arrived, and she gratefully accepted Winston’s offer to make a cup for her. ‘The Tech boys are following me so I’ll hang on till they get here before looking at it.’

  She listened to them describe what they had seen, and Ian showed her the remains of the cigarette. ‘It was the only one we found in that little area, so I’d be prepared to swear it’s the one she threw away. I’ll hand it in when I get back,’ he said, and popped the bag into his pocket. ‘I took photos of the exact spot before I picked it up.’

  ‘And neither of you could come up with a description?’

  Winston and Ian looked at each other. Winston shrugged. ‘She’s tall, I would say. But I can’t say for definite it’s a woman. The figure leaned on the car roof at one point, before turning away from the camera. You’ll see what I mean. I felt tallness.’

  Ian agreed with him. ‘And using a large suitcase to transport the body does explain the puzzle of how could she carry a body over the distances. And nobody would query anybody pulling a suitcase behind them, would they? Blood hasn’t been an issue…’ and Ian stopped speaking, aware that Winston wasn’t actually part of the investigation.

  Fortunately, the two Tech people arrived at that moment, and they all went through to the back room where Erica saw the recording for the first time. They were silent while watching it, then Erica and Ian followed Winston back through to the shop, leaving the Tech men to do their job.

  ‘Thank you so much, Winston,’ Erica said. ‘Hopefully this takes us a step nearer to finding out who this evil… person is.’

  ‘No problem. Happy to help, and my day’s been nowhere near as boring as it usually is.’

  Ivor had completed the post-mortem and proved to be amenable to the parents asking to see their daughter.

  Flick took charge of the baby, and Erica, her head still full of having watched the killer ferrying their daughter to the banks of the river, accompanied Pamela and Victor down to the autopsy suite. They confirmed it was Victoria, and suddenly Erica and Pamela found themselves supporting Victor, a panic attack threatening to overwhelm him. They sat him on a chair, and Erica spoke slowly and quietly, coaching him in his breathing. Eventually he regained some colour, and the two women sat on a chair either side of him.

  ‘Victoria is named after her dad,’ Pamela explained. ‘They’re so close…’

  ‘Victor,’ Erica said, ‘can I send for a doctor?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I’ll be okay. My breathing’s better already and Pam and the baby need me. We’ll be okay, but God knows what will happen next. We don’t even know this little lad’s father. She wouldn’t tell us, said he wasn’t in her life anymore.’

  ‘Then let’s go get Noah from my sergeant, and I want you to go home. It’s four o’clock now, and it’s going to be a long night for you. I don’t think for a minute the little one will sleep through, and you are grieving for your daughter. We’ll come and talk to you tomorrow, get your statements, and please don’t remove that last text from your phone, Pamela.’

  It was with a degree of surprise that Erica saw how full the briefing room was. They had seemingly waited for their return before going home, keen to find out what, if anything, had shown up on the CCTV.

  She took them through it all, explained they would hopefully know more the following day after Tech Support had done their thing, but even if they couldn’t enhance anything on the grain
y and indistinct film, they knew how she transported the bodies from her car to their resting place.

  ‘It’s been a bad day in that we have nine deaths to investigate, but a good day in that we know more. Go home everybody, spend time with your families and I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. Last one in gets the coffees.’

  There was lots of clatter and conversation as they all drifted away, and Flick followed her into the office. ‘Been a rough day. You got anything planned for tonight?’

  ‘A long hot soak in the bath. A shower won’t cut it tonight. I want to relax. The Super wants an update in the morning, so I’ll have to get my head around that.’

  ‘You heard anything about Beth?’

  ‘Her mum rang while I was driving back here from the shop. She’s doing okay so far, still sleeping a lot, but talking more when she’s awake. I think we can start to feel more positive now. I’ll make ten minutes tomorrow, to go and see her and have a few words with her parents. They must have been through hell, and they’ve never left her alone.’

  ‘You didn’t expect her to survive, did you?’

  Erica shook her head. ‘No, I thought she would be dead before the ambulance reached the hospital. Those paramedics… what can I say? And there was a lot of blood. She was well and truly battered. We kind of expect the occasional roughing up when we’re in this job, but this was nothing to do with her job, it was her psychopathic ex.’

  Flick handed over a large white envelope she was holding. ‘We’ve all signed this card for her, only needs your signature, boss. Can you take it tomorrow? We talked about sending some flowers, but they don’t allow them, do they?’

  ‘They don’t, and it’s no good sending fruit, she can’t eat yet, her face is too swollen and she is having pain in her mouth, I believe. I’ll pick up some magazines for her. She’ll love getting the card. Come on, let’s get off home.’