Rod nodded.
‘I’m impressed,’ McCluskie said as they lugged the bin-bag of rubbish outside with them, depositing it in a nearby wheelie bin. ‘Getting both French and Spanish into a two-word phrase. Got to be a winner, that, boss. Worth a pint, I think.’
‘And cheesy chips?’ Blackman suggested.
‘Whatever,’ came the reply. ‘It’s your turn to pay, I think, boss.’
CHAPTER 5: Morden Bog
Friday Morning, Week 1
Sergeant Rose Simons extended her baton and used it to tap George Warrander on the shoulder.
‘Arise, Sir George, do-gooder extraordinaire,’ she said. ‘I have one rest day and I return to find you being talked about as if you’re some kind of celebrity. By CID, no less. The wheezing Sergeant Blackman and the entirely sober Detective McCluskie, of all people.’ She looked at Warrander directly. ‘So you may have been right after all. But don’t pin too many hopes on those two wasters. They’re notorious.’
Warrander was puzzled. ‘So why are they in charge of Missing Persons cases?’
She laughed. ‘They’re not. It’s normally a three-person squad. The leader is away on a course, due to return next week. The second-in-command retired last month and hasn’t been replaced. And the dogsbody third was in an RTA at the weekend and is recovering from her injuries. Our two illustrious detectives are the scrapings from the very bottom of the barrel, filling in for a week or two. So don’t get your hopes up, young Georgie boy. You’re not in the big league yet. Better stick with me for a while. I’m very protective of my young charges, as you have already discovered.’ She smiled at him. ‘Cup of tea? It’s my treat. Take it as a sort of apology. I was over the top on Wednesday night. Too much responsibility on these slim shoulders of mine.’
Warrander relaxed a little. ‘Thanks. Tea would be great.’
‘When I said it’s my treat, what I really meant was that you fetch the mugs and make us both tea, but use my tea-bags. Okay?’
Warrander grinned at her. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Oh, and you should be able to get two mugs’ worth of tea out of a single tea bag if you go about it the right way. No sense in you wasting my hard-earned money needlessly, is there?’ She looked at her watch. ‘Fifteen minutes before we’re due out on the wild streets of Danger Land, so get a move on, Georgie.’
* * *
It was mid-morning, several hours later, that a call came through to their squad car to head south to the Morden Bog Nature Reserve. The call would normally have been taken by a local team from Wareham, but they were all engaged elsewhere and Simons and Warrander had just finished a visit to a small general store in Lytchett Minster, where the owner had reported a possible till theft. In fact there hadn’t been one — the missing money was found in a small cash bag on a shelf beneath the till, overlooked by the elderly manager. The sergeant was making some typically laconic observations about senility when these were interrupted by her radio crackling into life. It was a request to visit the site of an abandoned car that had just been discovered.
They drove south to the bleak heathland destination and turned off the road onto a track where two forestry commission workers were waiting for them. Warrander followed their vehicle as it made its way slowly along a rough track into the desolate northern section of the reserve and finally reached the edge of a large copse of trees. They stopped in a clearing at the end of the trail and stepped out of their vehicles, following the two men in silence for a minute or two as they walked between thick outcrops of undergrowth. And there it was, as reported. A small green Ford Fiesta, half hidden in a thicket of greenery.
‘It’s not nice, believe me,’ said one of the workmen. ‘We’ll stay back.’
Warrander followed the stocky form of Sergeant Simons as she walked towards the car. A flexible length of pipe, taped to the exhaust pipe, led in through a window, open only a crack. Rose peered in. Two bodies, upright in the front seats and seething with maggots. Warrander peered over her shoulder then turned away, walking several paces before he vomited into a clump of ferns. There was no other sound. Even the birds seemed to have abandoned this particular spot, as if they knew of the tragedy that had unfolded on the ground below their perches.
* * *
‘We found them an hour or so ago. We do a quick ground survey about every six months, looking for any clearance work that might need doing. You know, gorse, rhododendrons, the kind of stuff that will choke other plants given half a chance. It’s a pretty lonely part of the reserve up here. Most of the nature lovers stay further south or west where it’s a bit more accessible. This track’s rarely used, you could see that yourself driving up it. Even then, that car has been driven off the track and through the bushes to end up where it is. It might have remained undiscovered for a lot longer if we hadn’t chanced on it.’ The speaker, the older of the two forestry workers, shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Why do they do it?’
Rose shrugged. ‘Not worth speculating at the moment. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it, but there’s all kinds of reasons. Some of them even make sense. Try not to talk about the details to anyone, will you? Forensics should be here soon. We don’t want people told any of the details, not until we’re absolutely sure we know what we’re dealing with. We’ll need statements from you both. George here will get those a bit later, once someone arrives to take charge.’
The two forestry workers returned to the clearing to wait with the vehicles and Warrander walked the route between it and the death site, following the path that the small car must have taken. Larger vehicles would have had more difficulty squeezing between some of the trees. Even so it was relatively easy to spot the occasional broken branch and scraped bark where the gap had proved almost too narrow for the small Fiesta. Why make it so difficult to find? Was that a common feature of the suicides of elderly couples? He returned to his boss, who was sitting on a tree stump, deep in thought.
‘Just had a radio message. Forensics here in five minutes,’ she said.
‘Why would they do this, boss? Why would they have driven all the way out here to the back of beyond and hidden their car this well before doing it?’
She shrugged. ‘Don’t try to second guess it, Georgie. It’s not worth it. We’ll wait for forensics, then the experts will pick it all over. There’s no accounting for what people will do when the pressure’s on them, trust me. I’ve seen it all and nothing ever surprises me now. It’s not our job to speculate and if you see the family, don’t get drawn in by the questions they’ll fire at us.’
‘Will we have to break the news to them?’
She nodded. ‘Expect so. It’s us who’ve been in contact with them, after all. And it’ll be better for us to do it than those two cowboys from CID. Blackman and McCluskie — detectives from the Far Side.’
‘Don’t you mean the Dark Side?’
‘No, I mean the Far Side. They’re a joke.’
* * *
Dave Nash arrived a few minutes later and started directing his team to their varied tasks as each unit arrived, starting with photography and video. A tent was put up over the car, even though the weather was expected to remain fine for several days. He was joined within an hour by Benny Goodall, the county’s senior pathologist, who’d driven across from Dorchester. The personnel all wore white nylon overalls and facemasks, and looked like ghosts as they moved quietly among the trees in the copse. Finally the car doors were opened and clouds of noisy flies flew out, sounding like a chainsaw. The two experts started to gently probe the bodies in the car, but access was difficult because of its position, jammed into the trees. At this point they were joined by a third figure, just arrived in a silver saloon and tying a mask around her head, a few wisps of blond hair blowing out from under the hood of her white overall. She was accompanied by a younger, ginger-haired detective, also busy covering himself in a forensic suit.
‘Dave Nash called them Sophie's Squad when he mentioned them to the daughter yesterday,’ Warrander
said to his boss.
‘Well, I’ll need to ask them if we can go and let the family know. We don’t want them hearing about the discovery here via the radio news.’ She walked across to the assembled team and caught the eye of the blonde detective, who was clearly in charge of the crime scene.
‘Ma’am, we’re keen to inform the family as soon as you’re happy for us to do so. As far as I can tell, there isn’t much doubt, is there? The car is theirs and they look about the right height.’
‘Okay, but stress that it’s unconfirmed at the moment. I trust your judgement. You’re Rose Simons, aren’t you? Tell them that I’ll call on them later, Rose. Which family member will I be seeing?’
‘Probably the daughter. She’s a GP in Blandford. She can be a bit uptight, but I’ll tread carefully. There’s a son as well, but he’s a bit of a waster.’
The detective looked across the clearing. ‘Is that George Warrander with you? Give him my regards, won’t you? Tell him I’ll have a chat later when there’s time.’ She waved across the clearing at the young PC, who didn’t quite know how to respond and lifted his hand in a cross between a wave and a salute.
Rose walked back and the two uniformed officers made their way to the squad car. More squad car units were arriving from Wareham and from headquarters at Winfrith.
‘Let’s get out of here while we can,’ Rose said. ‘It’s starting to turn into a real circus.’ She waited until Warrander had navigated their car along the tracks and had turned out onto the main road before she spoke again. ‘How did she know who you were, Georgie boy? Is there something you haven’t told me?’
Warrander chose his words carefully. He knew that his boss was likely to make a joke about whatever he said. ‘She’s the reason I joined the police. She interviewed me a couple of years ago when a friend of mine was found murdered. I’d thought about it before then but had never done anything about it. It kind of spurred me on. I asked her about joining and she sent me some details. I didn’t think she’d recognise me.’
‘What, a handsome young man like you? And in my tender care to boot?’ She remained silent for a minute or two. ‘So she had that much influence on you? Seriously?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Hmm. Friends in high places. I can see I may have to treat you with more respect.’ There was a slight pause. Warrander waited to see what was coming next. ‘On second thoughts, maybe not. I wouldn’t want you getting big-headed.’
* * *
It was well after midday when Rose and Warrander arrived at the medical centre where Sharon Giroux worked. The morning rush had subsided, with only a handful of patients occupying the seats in the waiting area. Sharon was standing in reception talking quietly to one of the nurses. She glanced up as the two police officers came in through the main entrance door and fell silent as she caught their eye.
‘Can we go somewhere private, Dr Giroux?’ Rose suggested.
‘My consulting room. Do you have news?’
Rose merely nodded, and followed the doctor through to her office.
Warrander chose to remain standing as the two women sat. Sharon was tense, her hands tightly linked. It was obvious that she had picked up on their sombre mood.
‘I need to tell you, Dr Giroux, that we discovered two bodies this morning in a car, out in the depths of the Morden Nature Reserve. It’s your parents’ car, without a doubt. It had been there for some time.’
Sharon frowned. ‘What do you mean? Had it been in a crash?’
Rose shook her head. ‘No. It had been driven to a remote spot deliberately. There was a pipe leading from the exhaust to the inside.’
‘What? What are you saying? That Mum and Dad committed suicide?’
Rose remained non-committal. ‘It would appear so, but it’s early days yet. We’ll need to examine all the evidence.’
‘Who’s the medic in charge?’
‘Doctor Goodall. He’s come across from Dorchester. He’ll do a thorough job.’
‘I know he will. But it’s just not possible.’ Tears were escaping from Sharon’s eyes and running down her cheek. ‘They wouldn’t. Why would they? It doesn’t make sense. They were happy with their lives. It’s beyond belief.’
Rose spoke softly. ‘It’s always hard to comprehend. I wish we could have come with different news, Dr Giroux, but we have to let you know. In all likelihood it will be reported on local radio as the afternoon goes on, and it will certainly be on the teatime bulletins. You need to be prepared for that. Do you want us to tell your brother, or would you prefer to do that?’
Sharon thought for a few moments. ‘I couldn’t cope with it. I know I should be able to, but I just feel so empty.’ She paused. ‘Who’s running the investigation? Not those two dimwits still? Jumping to conclusions like they do?’
Rose shook her head again. ‘Suspicious deaths always get referred to the top, especially when there are two together.’
Warrander interrupted. ‘It’s DCI Allen in charge, Dr Giroux. She’s the best there is, trust me. You have no need to worry on that score.’
Sharon continued to wring her hands, her face ashen.
‘Maybe you should consider going home, Sharon,’ Rose said. ‘Can I contact your husband for you?’
The doctor just nodded, overcome by sobs and no longer able to speak. Rose put an arm around her shoulder.
CHAPTER 6: A Grim Task
Friday Afternoon, Week 1
The task was a grim one, but with both Benny Goodall, the senior pathologist, and forensic chief Dave Nash on hand, Sophie Allen knew that the in-situ examination of the two corpses would be thorough. She stood back, watching, as they got on with their work.
‘Do you think there’s much doubt, ma’am?’ Her second-in-command, DS Barry Marsh, stood by her side. ‘I’ve just checked back with the information built up this week from the missing persons inquiry. The car’s theirs and the bodies look about the right age to my untrained eye.’ He wiped some perspiration from his face and tried to scratch his ear, impossible under the nylon hood. A few strands of his ginger hair peeked out onto his forehead below the white material.
‘You know me, Barry. Not one to make too many assumptions, but when the obvious is staring you in the face like this, it would be stupid to ignore it. Yes, it’s them. But it’s so peculiar. When old people take their own lives in some kind of pact, they tend to do it at home. They want to end it all in the place that means most to them, that most reassures them. It’s a kind of comfort blanket. So they usually take pills and go to bed, because to them it’s their final rest. Even if they do it this way, in a car using the exhaust pipe, it’s usually in their garage at home. Why come out here to this remote place? Unless of course it meant something to them, if they first met here, say. Or maybe he proposed to her here while they were out walking all those decades ago.’ She paused. ‘We’ll get Rae onto that line of enquiry once we get started, looking to see if there’s some reason why they would have chosen this spot. It is very tranquil here, and beautiful while the sun’s shining, so there could be logic behind it. We’ll wait and see.’
Benny Goodall, who’d been carefully probing the two bodies, straightened up and backed away from the open car door. ‘Okay, that’s as much as I can do here. If you can get them out, Dave, we’ll move them back to my place and I can start the serious work.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘No obvious wounds or injuries of any type. The next stage will be examination of some underlying tissue back at the lab. Carbon monoxide poisoning leaves evidence behind. Most obviously in skin colouration, but that’s a no-no with this level of dermal decomposition. It’s the heat and flies. All is not lost, though. There’ll be other indicators left in deeper tissue and in the internal organs, and they’ll show up during the PM. Their daughter’s a local GP, you say?’
Sophie nodded. ‘In Blandford.’
‘Right. She’ll want the medical facts, no doubt, so I’ll bear that in mind. Keep her away at present, though, Sophie. Sometimes doctors think they
’ll cope okay with seeing bodies like this, but they’re unprepared for the emotional impact when it’s someone close.’
‘That’s helpful, Benny. Barry and I will drive up to see her later this afternoon. The uniformed lot have already broken the news. It seemed the best option because they’ve been involved with her since she reported the disappearance at the beginning of the week.’ She paused. ‘So how long do you think they’ve been here?’
He smiled grimly. ‘You’ve waited a long time before asking me the obvious question. I wondered if you were losing your touch.’ He glanced across at the bodies again. ‘Much more than a week. I’d say it was closer to two weeks, maybe three. What do you think, Dave?’
The forensic chief removed his mask and hood as he stepped away from the car. ‘I agree, but we’ll need to look at the reference material on body decomposition before we can give you a more accurate timeframe.’
‘But it was definitely before they were reported as missing on Monday? You can be sure of that?’
‘Oh yes, undoubtedly.’
She turned to the senior uniformed officer, a sergeant from Wareham. ‘I want a close search done on the immediate area, and everything picked up and logged. I know there’ll be some bits and pieces of litter but we can eliminate those later. Same with the car, Dave. I know it’ll go back to the depot for checking, but I want everything inside it logged as well. There’s something not quite right here. Can we fix up some security devices to log activity at night? We can’t afford to have someone stationed here overnight, but we need some way of monitoring the place in case anyone visits.’
Sophie walked back to her car with Barry Marsh. ‘It’s a relief that they’ve been there for two weeks or more. It means that anything those two plonkers running the missing persons inquiry did or didn’t do was of no consequence. The old couple had already been dead for a couple of weeks.’
TWISTED CRIMES a gripping detective mystery full of suspense Page 4