‘Oh, right. No problem. Sign in here, and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.’
‘Thanks.’
She turned away from the desk and tried not to pace the floor as they waited. Thankfully, Wilson appeared moments later, his hand outstretched, a folder under his other arm.
‘Detectives, good afternoon. Come on through – there’s a meeting room we can use that’ll give us a bit of privacy.’ He gestured to an open doorway next to the reception desk.
Kay followed in his wake, his long strides powering him ahead of the two police officers.
He guided them along a corridor that ran the length of the building. At the far end, he turned right and they entered a windowless conference room.
Wilson flipped light switches next to the door, then closed it and indicated the seats around the large oval table in the centre before pushing his fringe from his eyes. ‘Please, have a seat. Can I get you some water or anything?’
‘We’re fine, thanks.’
‘I guess you’re here about the human remains that were found on Sunday.’ His green eyes sparkled.
Kay noticed the tell-tale sign of someone who enjoyed the sensationalism of reports such as Suzie Chambers’ and who was eager to learn more.
He’d be disappointed.
She folded her hands on the table and made sure Carys was ready to take notes before she began.
‘Mr Wilson, can you tell me when that lay-by was last cleaned by your team?’
‘Um, it would have been five weeks ago, because it was due to be done again this Friday.’ He shuddered. ‘Horrible. I can’t imagine what it was like for that cyclist and his friends.’
‘Five weeks?’
‘Yes, that’s the cycle. The council’s responsible for all the street cleaning in the area as well as bus shelters, country roads, and lay-bys.’
‘And you’re sure that every lay-by is checked?’
‘We have key performance indicators for each member of our personnel. If they weren’t doing their job properly, the public would let us know, I can assure you.’
He chuckled and leaned back in his seat.
‘We’ll need the names of the cleaning team.’
His brow puckered. ‘Oh, I see. That might be a bit tricky, as sometimes we use temporary staff to complement our own contingent of workers.’
‘Do those temporary staff have performance reviews as well?’
‘No, we bring them in as and when needed.’
‘So, if they were responsible for that route five weeks ago, they might have missed that lay-by and you wouldn’t know.’
‘Like I said, we usually hear from the public if there’s litter lying around that hasn’t been dealt with.’
‘What if no-one reported it?’
His jaw set, and he swallowed before answering. ‘Then I guess it would be done on the next five-week cycle.’
‘Do you have records of those permanent and temporary staff responsible for that route?’
‘Yes, of course – it’ll just take time.’
‘Is there someone here who can let us have that information this afternoon? As you’ll appreciate, this is an important investigation and we’re rather keen to catch the person who did this.’
Wilson’s cheeks flamed crimson, and he rose from his seat. ‘Hang on. I’ll see what I can do.’
As he left the room, Kay turned to Carys and rolled her eyes.
‘You’d have thought he’d have organised that before we got here.’
‘I did ask.’ Carys sighed. ‘Some people have no sense of urgency, do they?’
Ten
Kay waited beside Barnes as he pressed the button on the intercom to the right-hand side of the glass doors and announced their arrival to the staff at the mortuary.
She could have tasked Gavin or Carys to go with him, but she still craved direct action over paperwork and was glad of the excuse to escape from the incident room for a while. Besides, they were understaffed, and if a detective inspector chose to roll up her sleeves to help out, no-one was complaining.
Sharp had worn a harried expression upon his return from a meeting at headquarters, and she knew he was thinking the same as the rest of them – what if this slaying wasn’t a one-off?
Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of the locking mechanism being released. Barnes opened the door and gestured to her to follow him over the threshold.
A gangly twenty-something held out his hand, his blue eyes so stark against his pale skin and dark brown hair that Kay wondered if he wore special contact lenses.
‘I’m Simon Winter. Lucas’s new assistant.’
Kay and Barnes introduced themselves, then followed Simon along the corridor to the office. They waited while he retrieved a folder from the desk and flipped it open.
‘You’re here for the post mortem on the foot that was found?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Okay, well I’ll be assisting Lucas today.’ He glanced up at the clock on the wall. ‘He’s finishing off another PM at the moment, but if you’d like to come this way, I’ll sort you out with some coveralls. Do you want a tea or coffee or anything?’
Both detectives shook their heads.
Kay would never get used to the normality that Lucas and his staff conveyed at the morgue – the idea of eating or drinking anywhere near a dead body filled her with revulsion.
Simon led them from the office to the changing rooms. ‘You’ll find the coveralls sealed in packets on the shelves just inside the doors. There are lockers there for your belongings, and you can put the coveralls in the biohazard bins provided when we’re finished.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘I’ll meet you inside. It’s the door on the right, there.’
Fifteen minutes later, Kay shuffled her feet, and tried to ignore the itching at the back of her neck caused by an errant label from the disposable coveralls she wore.
Next to her, Barnes grumbled under his breath and checked his watch.
‘I thought he said he was starting this at half past two.’
‘It’s been busy this week,’ said Simon. ‘There were a couple of nasty accidents on the M20 on Sunday on top of our current workload – tourists from the Continent. Seems they forgot what side of the road they were supposed to be driving on.’
Kay grimaced. The summer months always brought an influx of travellers from Europe, which was a boon for the tourism industry but brought a high risk of accident and injury on the busy roads. And this was before the UK schools closed for the summer holidays.
The door behind her opened and Lucas appeared, snapping a fresh pair of gloves onto his hands. One look at his harried face put paid to any thoughts of a flippant remark, and even Barnes held his tongue.
‘Sorry, Kay, Ian. Nasty one next door – two young children. House fire at the weekend over at Leybourne.’
He sighed, then turned his attention to the object Simon had prepared in the middle of the examination table. He cocked an eyebrow.
‘You seem to have a habit of bringing me body parts with the rest of their owner missing, Hunter.’
The bleak mood lifted a little, and Kay and Barnes joined him at the table.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m finding this easier to deal with than a decapitated head,’ she said.
Lucas gestured to Simon, who reached up and pulled a toggle on the end of a cord, and a bright light flickered on above their heads and illuminated the severed foot.
The pathologist provided a running commentary as he worked, dictating into a microphone clipped to the lapel of his overalls while Simon handed him various surgical instruments.
Kay knew from experience that although his report would be thorough, it was often best to attend the post mortem so that she could have the opportunity to ask questions as they arose, rather than wait for a returned phone call or email to clarify something that might be urgent.
The pathologist’s examination was over within thirty minutes. He switched off his micropho
ne and turned to Kay and Barnes.
‘All right, there’s not much to go on, but your victim was certainly dead when his foot was removed. He had suffered an injury to his big toe within recent months and appears to have an ongoing issue with it, here. I’ve removed a dressing that had been applied professionally.’
Kay peered across to where he indicated and saw an area of broken skin.
‘So, we start with local podiatrists, hospitals, that sort of thing,’ said Barnes.
‘That’s our best bet. See if anyone has missed an appointment recently.’ Kay glanced across the table at Lucas. ‘You think he would have been having regular treatment for this?’
Lucas nodded. ‘That would have been painful to walk on. In fact, I’d go so far as to suggest he was already overdue for an appointment.’
‘What about the cutting method used? To separate the foot from the leg, I mean.’
‘Well, it’s not a professional job, but that doesn’t mean you should rule out anyone in the medical profession – I simply mean that a surgical implement wasn’t used. You’re looking for something crude, probably blunt, too.’ He used his little finger to indicate the stump. ‘Notwithstanding the damage caused by wildlife before this was discovered, the skin and muscle has been torn – probably by back-and-forth movement, such as with a saw – and you can see here the grooves made in the bone from that instrument. We’ll run some more tests to see if we can pinpoint an exact type.’
Kay straightened. ‘Okay, let’s get back to the station. We’ve already got people reviewing the missing persons database. If no-one has been reported as missing an appointment, then we’ll start with local clinics and widen the search if we need to. How old is it? I mean, how long since it had been—’
‘—separated from its owner? A couple of days, no more,’ said Lucas. ‘Which of course begs the question – where’s the rest of him?’
‘That’s what worries us,’ said Barnes. ‘Uniform have done a search of the lay-by, the road, the verge opposite, and the hedgerows. They haven’t found anything.’
Kay groaned. ‘This was never going to be easy, was it?’
‘We haven’t got a leg to stand on,’ said Barnes, then yelped as she slapped his arm.
Eleven
Later that day, Kay forced a smile while she rose from her seat and held out her hand to the pock-marked faced candidate once he’d gathered up his notes and jacket.
‘We’ll be in touch,’ she said, and guided him towards the door, indicating he should go on without her.
After making sure he was out of earshot, she turned to Sharp. ‘You’d have thought if he’d applied to be transferred here, he’d have done some bloody homework about the place,’ she hissed.
He rolled his eyes in answer and waved her out of the room.
She caught up with the candidate, and once she’d seen him out through the reception area, she turned to Sergeant Hughes behind the desk. ‘Where’s our next one?’
He jerked his head at a meeting room off to the side. ‘In there. You look like you could do with a drink.’
‘I’ve already had two coffees.’
‘I meant alcoholic.’
She grinned. ‘Later, Hughes.’
He winked, then she straightened her jacket and opened the door to the meeting room.
A man stopped pacing the room as she entered and spun around.
His short brown hair framed a round face that beamed at her, his hands dropping from the tie he had been adjusting.
‘Brendan Rhodes?’
‘Detective Inspector Hunter, it’s an honour to meet you in person.’ Rhodes advanced towards her so fast, Kay took a step back as her mouth dropped open.
He paused, a troubled expression crossing his face, then stuck out his hand.
‘Sorry – it’s just that I read about your case against Jozef Demiri last year. It was so inspiring.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Shall we? DCI Sharp is waiting for us.’
‘Of course, of course.’
Kay held open the door for him, then used her swipe card to let him through the security barrier next to the desk, ignoring the grin plastered across Hughes’s face.
Sharp greeted Rhodes at the door to the interview room and raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.
She shook her head and lowered herself into the chair next to his, waited until the two men had settled and cleared her throat.
‘Brendan, you’ve requested a transfer from East Sussex to take up the position of detective sergeant with Kent Police here in Maidstone. Can you tell us why?’
Rhodes shuffled in his seat, a faint blush appearing on his neck that slowly worked its way towards his cheeks.
‘I’m ready for a new challenge, and I feel that Kent offers more opportunities for results-driven detective work than I might see in Hastings.’
Kay bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from smiling at the prepared answer and gestured to Sharp to intervene.
‘I’m sure East Sussex has its fair share of challenges,’ he said. ‘What have some of your recent successes included?’
As Kay listened to Rhodes answering each question posed, the monotony of his voice distracted her and she found her thoughts returning to the investigation continuing without her in the room above.
She itched to be there with her colleagues, delving into the information they’d collated to date, and dealing with the numerous decisions to be fielded and actions every few minutes.
She was jerked back to the interview at the sound of her name.
‘—Hunter. It’d be an honour and a real career highlight to work with you. After all, you were so brave to take on Jozef Demiri.’
Sharp managed to disguise his burst of laughter with a fake sneeze.
Kay glared at him before turning her attention to the candidate.
‘I’m not sure what rumours you’ve been listening to, Mr Rhodes, but the apprehension of Jozef Demiri was a team effort following an exhaustive investigation. I’m afraid Kent Police, as well as many other forces, takes a rather dim view of individuals seeking recognition to further their own careers.’
Rhodes blushed and, suitably chastened, answered the rest of the prepared questions with an intensity borne of evident embarrassment.
Minutes later, Kay closed the file in front of her as Sharp stood and thanked Rhodes before leading him out to the reception area, then checked her watch.
The investigative team would still be upstairs, and she wanted to make sure she was in attendance for the briefing. Barnes was more than capable, but she knew from first-hand experience that some of the best theories could be shared amongst the group at that time, and she wanted to be present to galvanise them into action if required.
Footsteps reached her ears as Sharp returned.
He patted her shoulder as he passed, then perched on the desk facing her, the corner of his mouth twitching.
‘What do you think of your one-man fan club?’
‘It’s not funny. I can’t believe he applied for the job, just so he could tell his mates he met me.’
He couldn’t contain his mirth any longer and let out a laugh.
‘Stop it. Give me some good news, Devon.’
‘Personnel have organised another three interviews for tomorrow.’
Kay leaned forward and rested her head on her arms as a groan escaped her lips.
‘I’d take a post mortem over this any day.’
Twelve
The sound of the doorbell cut through Kay’s singing midway through the classic Aerosmith track, and she leaned over the worktop and turned down the speakers before wiping her hands on a towel.
Barnes and his partner, Pia McLeod, stood on the doorstep.
‘Hey, come on through,’ said Kay, and moved to one side. ‘Adam’s on his way. I’m just making the salads.’
‘We brought wine,’ said Pia. ‘Hope it’s okay.’
‘If it’s white and cold, it’ll be absolutely fine,’ Kay said with a smile.<
br />
She and Adam had first been introduced to Pia a little over a year ago. After Barnes’s daughter, Emma, had nagged him about losing weight and had then attacked her father’s unfashionable wardrobe with a vengeance, he had starting dating again and it wasn’t long before he found love in his life once more.
Smart, funny, and a conveyancing solicitor with a local firm, Pia was a perfect match for Barnes’s gruff humour, and the two couples had spent many a time at each other’s houses in the months since.
Kay envied the way Pia moved with grace along the hallway on her three-inch high sandals. If she tried to wear anything similar, she’d wreck her ankles within minutes.
Kay followed them through to the kitchen, then picked up a knife and began slicing tomatoes while Barnes and Pia helped themselves, at ease in her home.
Barnes reached out to turn up the speakers a little and grinned as he poured a bottle of beer into a pint glass.
‘Still listening to the old stuff?’
‘Can’t beat it.’
‘Do you want me to go and fire up the barbecue?’
‘That’d be great, thanks.’
As Barnes took his pint of beer and headed out the back door, Pia joined her at the worktop.
‘Anything I can do?’
Kay cast her eyes over the salad ingredients in front of her. ‘Despite what Adam might say about me and kitchens, I think I’ve got this under control.’
Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were gathered around the teak outdoor table and enjoying the breeze that teased the air.
Kay had her back to the house and savoured the view of the garden – she wasn’t naturally green-fingered but did enjoy pottering around the flower bed she’d been working on since the spring.
Barnes had taken charge of the barbecue, and the faint sound of gas hissed on the air.
‘Never understood why Adam uses a gas one,’ he said, taking a seat next to Pia and clinking his glass against theirs.
‘I think he finds it easier to clean compared to the charcoal ones,’ said Kay, easing back into her chair.
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