Her Final Hour: An absolutely unputdownable mystery thriller

by Carla Kovach

  Keith and a couple of Bernard’s team passed them, following the route, and waited on the back patio, all dressed to investigate. Another member of the team met them with a couple of cameras. One for the photos and one for the video log.

  ‘Can we get the stepping plates put in place?’ Gina asked.

  ‘I’ll hurry them along.’ Bernard waved his arm, ordering one of the crime scene assistants to follow his instruction. The suited assistant nodded as she passed, then headed back to the van. Gina turned to PC Smith who was standing, making notes by the hedge.

  ‘Smith, are you running the scene log? Take a note of everyone’s name, shoe size etcetera and we need to organise elimination prints for Mr Sanderson. You know the drill. Is there someone monitoring the cordon?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. There are a couple of officers heading there now.’ Smith walked towards Gina, frowning as he approached the scene.

  ‘Will you organise someone from your team to collect witness statements from neighbours? I know the houses are spread apart but someone may have seen something.’

  ‘Certainly will,’ he replied as he left.

  Bernard handed Gina a forensic suit, along with boot covers and a mask. She began pulling the suit over her jeans as she approached the back door and looked through the window. Gina could see that there was blood surrounding a wound on the right hand side of the woman’s head, and it was matted into her hair.

  She opened the back door. Her heart began to pound as she stared at the body that was clearly lit by the bright cooker hood and the light seeping in from the half-closed door to the hallway. She’d seen many crime scenes but each and every one still had an impact. To see the aftermath of human suffering was never easy. The dead woman was bound to the chair and was slightly slumped to the left. A strip of blue washing line cord was loosely looped around her neck. Gina stepped as close to the back worktop in the large kitchen as she could, trying to avoid contaminating the scene. Bernard followed her close behind, carrying a torch.

  ‘Bernard, could you please step through into the lounge, dining room and hall and tell me what you see?’

  Bernard and one of the assistants carefully continued around the body, then through to the lounge and back through the hallway, flashing the torch into all angles of the rooms as they passed through.

  ‘There is blood and hair on the stairs and a few trail marks of blood along the hallway. Apart from that there is nothing out of place. The front door is closed. I don’t want to tread the stairs until we’ve taken samples and thoroughly searched this area.’

  Bernard came back to the kitchen, followed by his assistant.

  ‘So she possibly received the blow to the head on the stairs and was dragged to the kitchen, where she was bound to a kitchen chair?’

  ‘I can only report what I see. There is a blood trail.’

  ‘Any ideas on cause of death as yet?’

  ‘Not confirmed until we do the post-mortem. As you can see, there is a piece of blue washing line around her neck and ligature marks on her neck. We haven’t as yet found any evidence of forced entry either but the back door was unlocked. My team will need to go through everything. We will get you more information as soon as we’ve had a chance to process the scene.’

  ‘Time of death?’

  ‘The paramedic said the body was still warm. Given the temperature in here and the temperature taken on arrival, we estimate time of death to be within the past two hours.’

  ‘Thank you. Appreciate what you’ve given me so far. I’ll be back in a short while.’ She stepped into the garden and took a deep breath. Gina walked on the freshly laid out stepping plates until she reached the edge of the cordon on the front drive. She watched as Smith continued logging notes while directing another officer to set up an inner cordon. Wyre pulled up and entered the scene. Gina nodded in her direction before turning her attention to the man sitting in the back of the police car.

  Jacob walked over. ‘Just to update you, Mr Sanderson called us at twenty-two forty. When Smith arrived, he was apparently cradling his crying child in his car. That is where he waited until Smith and the officers arrived.’

  ‘We’ll need him to come in for a formal interview. Did the paramedics check him over?’

  ‘Yes. He’s in shock but he is responding. His child is fine, doesn’t realise what’s happened, the poor thing.’

  ‘I’ll have a quick word then we should get back to the station. I want him interviewed and we need to check out all alibis and witnesses that have seen him tonight.’

  Gina headed towards the police car and opened the back door. ‘Mr Sanderson, I’m Detective Inspector Gina Harte. Can I have a quick word?’

  ‘My wife, she’s gone. Who did this to her?’ he cried as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. We will need you to come to the station and give a formal statement.’

  ‘Do I have to do that now?’ The little girl began to bawl and the man held her in his arms and stroked her soft brown hair. ‘My daughter’s only two and she knows something is wrong.’

  Gina spotted a red scratch on the little girl’s arm. She reached over and pointed to the scratch. ‘Are you hurt?’ she asked the child. The little girl lifted her arm up further and Gina noticed some bruising just above the scratch.

  ‘When I went up to her, she was crying. She’d climbed over her bed guard and was banging on the bedroom door. She’s fine apart from she’s scratched and bruised her arm climbing out of bed and it’s a little sore, isn’t it, Mia? She does that quite a lot.’ He stroked the child’s damp fringe and kissed her forehead.

  People walked back and forth between the house, the vans and the back garden.

  ‘Do you have anyone who’s able to look after her while you come to the station?’

  ‘My brother Alan is on his way. He lives in Redditch so he won’t be long.’ As he finished his sentence a man in his early fifties, wearing an outdoor leisure jacket was trying to climb under the outer cordon. Gina left Mr Sanderson and ran over to the man who was talking with a PC.

  ‘Sorry, sir, you must stay behind the cordon.’

  ‘So I’ve just been told. That’s my brother and little niece in the car. I can’t believe what’s happened,’ he said as a tear seeped from the corner of his eye. ‘Is Mia okay?’

  ‘The little one is fine. I’m so sorry for what’s happened to your family, I really am. We need to take your brother to Cleevesford Police Station to give a statement. Would you be able to come along and take care of your niece?’

  ‘Of course. He’s not under arrest, is he?’

  ‘No. We need to formally interview him, that’s all. I’m going to head there now. Can you follow us there, Mr Sanderson?’

  The man choked on his words as he fought the urge to sob. Gina pulled a pack of tissues from her pocket and passed one to him. ‘Thanks.’ He wiped his wet face and blew his nose. As she waited for the man to compose himself, she heard footsteps approaching from behind. She turned and saw Darrel carrying his daughter.

  ‘Can I go to the station with my brother?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  She watched as Darrel handed Mia to his brother and went to his car to get her car seat. Alan hugged the little girl as Darrel fastened the car seat in the back of his brother’s car. Shedding more tears, Alan strapped Mia in and closed the door.

  ‘Are we heading back to the station?’ Jacob asked as he neared her.

  Gina ignored him, her focus remaining on Darrel Sanderson as he got into the car. ‘Where did you say the husband was tonight?’

  Jacob pulled his notebook from his pocket. ‘Angel Arms, with his friend, Robert Dixon. He was there all evening but we still need to verify that.’

  ‘Wyre, can you tell O’Connor to meet you at the Angel now and report back as soon as you’ve verified Mr Sanderson’s whereabouts? We need to check out his alibi. I want it verified sooner rather than later and double check everything. I want the
CCTV checked. If he so much as stepped outside for a cigarette or went for a slash, I want it noted and I want to know for how long.’

  ‘On it, guv. I’ll meet you back at the station when I’m done.’

  Gina stared into the darkness as Alan Sanderson’s car disappeared into the distance. She checked her watch. She didn’t have much time to speak with Bernard and Keith but she needed whatever information they had to offer. She hurried around to the back of the house, knowing that Darrel Sanderson would be waiting for her at the station.

  Six

  Gina flung her coat over the back of a chair and darted across her office to grab the ringing phone. She placed the unappealing machine coffee on her desk and picked up.

  ‘Harte. I’m putting you in charge of tonight’s incident. You’re the SIO. I want to know what’s happening as always, but it’s your show.’

  She could barely reply. Briggs was making her Senior Investigating Officer. Her stomach fluttered. Had he chosen her because they had been in a relationship? If so, she didn’t want it. As with all her progressions in the police, she wanted to know that she had truly earned them. ‘It’s not because—’

  ‘It’s because you’re a great detective and you’re more than ready for this. Don’t insult me by saying another word.’ He hung up, leaving her standing there holding the receiver with her mouth open.

  She stared out of the window. Squad cars were lined up against the back wall, ready to be called out for action. She bit her bottom lip as she replayed Briggs’s last few words. She had insulted him. Reality suddenly hit her. She was SIO. This was a huge step in her career. She’d be managing her own budget, leading the investigation and having the final say on everything to do with the case.

  Within three hours, she had stepped off the plane, been home, attended a crime scene and ended up back at the station to find out she was SIO on a major crime. She said the words Senior Investigating Officer again in her head and smiled. Briggs had always declared himself SIO when it came to major crime. This was a big extension of his trust in her.

  Apart from tonight’s incident, the station had seemed oddly quiet. The past few weeks had been mostly filled with volume crimes, such as break-ins, car damage and a handful of minor assaults that had been easy to solve, but this, this was big. On first instance it appeared that Melissa Sanderson had been found in her home by her husband, and she’d been bound and strangled following an already violent attack.

  Why would anyone want to harm Mrs Sanderson? Find the motive and that leads to the killer. Gina shivered as she thought of the perpetrator’s knuckles brushing Mrs Sanderson’s neck as they pulled the cord.

  Were they looking for someone without a conscience or was Mrs Sanderson constantly in their thoughts? Gina thought back to the look in her ex-husband Terry’s eyes as he reached for her when he was tumbling down the stairs to his death. Her mouth went dry. She wasn’t letting Terry into her thoughts tonight. She had a conscience, not like some of the people she’d dealt with.

  Time of death. Between eight thirty and ten thirty, give or take. Could the injuries have occurred before Mr Sanderson left for the pub? Why Mrs Sanderson? And what did the perpetrator assault her with? She quickly submitted a form to the coroner and placed her computer into sleep mode.

  Gina grabbed her drink and headed straight towards the interview room, almost colliding with Jacob as she turned a corner.

  ‘We’re ready, guv,’ Jacob said.

  ‘Where’s Sanderson’s brother and daughter?’

  ‘We put them in a room at the end of the corridor for now. One of Smith’s team is seeing to their needs.’

  Gina looked past him. The door to the interview room was closed and she knew Darrel Sanderson would be nervously awaiting her arrival. ‘Great. I want his drinking buddy, Robert Dixon, checked out too. We need to confirm that he was with Darrel Sanderson tonight. Then we need to crossmatch any information that Wyre and O’Connor come back with after speaking to the landlord at the Angel, our friend Samuel Avery.’

  ‘I’ll get Dixon’s number from Darrel Sanderson and I’ll be right with you. We’ll contact Mr Dixon.’

  Gina opened the door to the sparsely furnished room and placed her notebook on the desk, taking a seat opposite Darrel Sanderson. There was a coldness about him. Not a muscle in his face moved. He twiddled his fingers and stared into his lap. As he looked up, he wiped his eye. She couldn’t tell if his eye had been wet but he looked tired. She noted down his full name and personal details on the witness statement form while she waited for Jacob to return. ‘We’ll just wait for DS Driscoll, then we’ll get started.’

  ‘I can’t believe this has happened. What happens next?’ he asked as he fidgeted in the plastic chair. The overweight man sat in a hunched position, forcing his stomach to fall over the top of his trousers. She could tell from the tightness of his jacket that he wasn’t comfortable. He pulled his chair closer to the table, awaiting her questions.

  ‘Well, the crime scene investigators are at your home and they will work through everything, hopefully finding forensic evidence as to who murdered your wife.’ Gina grabbed a leaflet from the shelf to her left and handed it to Sanderson. ‘I thoroughly recommend you contact Victim Support. You don’t have to go through this on your own,’ she said as she analysed his reaction. He stared at the text on the front of the pamphlet.

  ‘I have family. I don’t need it.’ He placed the pamphlet on the table.

  Jacob entered and sat beside Gina.

  ‘Mr Sanderson, this is DS Jacob Driscoll and I’m DI Gina Harte. We’ll try to make this as brief as possible as we know you need to be with your brother and daughter at a time like this. From the initial call that you made, we know you were the first witness on the scene. Please tell us what happened, as it happened, and in your own words,’ Gina said. She leaned back and watched as Jacob took the form from her and sat poised with a pen in hand.

  ‘I’d been out since about seven. I meet up with my mate Rob quite often and mostly at the Angel Arms as it’s fairly local for both of us. It’s a bit of a walk but we don’t need taxis. We talked and had a few pints, then I left just after ten. It takes me about twenty minutes to walk home. I followed the High Street through Cleevesford until I reached the edge of town. The path ends there and I began walking on the road alongside the woodland. I remember getting nearer to the house and all seemed as it normally did. The house was in darkness. My wife hasn’t been too well lately, I suspected she was in bed.’

  ‘What was wrong with her?’

  Darrel unzipped the jacket he was wearing and let out a deep breath. ‘She wasn’t physically ill.’

  ‘Go on.’ Gina waited for the man to begin speaking again.

  He hesitated and looked at Gina. ‘She’d been drinking a bit more than usual. I think she was depressed. I tried to talk to her about it but she never wanted to talk. She always jumped down my throat. Things were getting bad.’ He paused and looked to the side. ‘I also think she’d been seeing someone else. I wanted to save our marriage. I tried my best, you know, well I did everything a man can do. She was never happy, but I never hurt her – never.’ For the first time she saw what she perceived to be genuine emotion in Darrel’s face. He began picking his thumbnail and biting the skin around the edge.

  ‘Do you know who she was seeing?’

  Darrel stared at the wall and shook his head. ‘I wish I had known. The only clue I found were a pack of unused condoms in her bag. We don’t need condoms.’ He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his thin, greying hair. ‘I had a vasectomy after Mia was born. Melissa had suffered with the most horrendous post-natal depression and we said we’d never have another child.’ Darrel’s face had turned a crimson colour as he spoke about his suspicions.

  ‘Going back to when you arrived home, tell me what happened?’

  He bit his thumbnail and flicked it on the floor, before rubbing his eyes. Gina spotted a bead of sweat forming just under his hairline. ‘As I a
pproached the door, I heard Mia crying. That in itself was nothing unusual, she wakes up a lot during the night, never been a good sleeper. I used my key to open the front door and turned the hall light on as I always do. It was then I noticed a streak of red across the hall floor, leading through to the kitchen. I continued walking in silence. I called her name. I thought, maybe she’d had a bit too much to drink, fallen over and hurt herself. It wouldn’t be the first time. I was almost angry with her for leaving our daughter crying and all the drinking she does – did.’ A stream of tears began to fall down his cheeks and land on the desk.

  ‘I know this is hard, Mr Sanderson. What has happened to your wife is truly awful and we need to catch who did this. What do you remember after that?’

  The man wiped the tears with the sleeve of his jacket and looked directly at Gina. ‘I opened the kitchen door and she was…’ He began to sob.

  Gina slid a box of tissues across the table. Maybe she’d wrongly judged him about being cold. She’d seen the way shock developed in some people. In her experience, sometimes people blocked things out for a while but when realisation hit, they let it all go. ‘This is really helping us, Mr Sanderson.’

  ‘I saw her under the light of the cooker hood. She was positioned in one of our carver chairs. Bound with something on her wrists and feet. A blue cord, like washing line, was loosely drooped around her neck and her head was covered in blood. It was at that point, I panicked. I ran over and checked her pulse but felt nothing. I had to get my daughter out of the house. I remember feeling like I was going to pass out. My beating heart felt as though it were coming out of my mouth. I was scared, so scared. I thought the person who did this to my wife might still be in the house. I ran up the stairs, grabbed Mia from her bed and left. I couldn’t think of where to go. Mia was cold in just her pyjamas, so I sat in the car and called the police.’ The man broke down and placed his head and hands on the desk as he sobbed.

  ‘Mr Sanderson, I’m just a bit confused as to what you just said.’ Jacob looked at her inquisitively. The man lifted his head and looked up with red-rimmed eyes. ‘When you spoke to me in the police car, back at the house, you said that Mia had scratched and bruised her arm by climbing out of her bed, and she’d been banging on her bedroom door. Just now, you said you grabbed her out of her bed.’