Brutal Pursuit

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Brutal Pursuit Page 5

by Diane M Dickson


  The land line rang out until the messaging machine cut in; and Serena’s mobile was unanswered. Tanya left a message for the girl to call her as soon as possible. She toyed with the idea of telling her to sort out her things ready to go, but it seemed heartless, and Serena hadn’t been that bad. Not until the last week or so anyway.

  Chapter 15

  As the morning wore on, Ana had begun to feel unwell. Whatever had caused Emilia to cough and shiver must have attacked her now. She was aching and hot. She looked at the clock at the end of the big room. Just four hours and then it would be time to go home. She could do four hours; she had put up with much worse.

  She glanced around the noisy, stinking place. They would probably all get the sickness now. It would go on and on and nobody would be able to take time off, not until they were unable to clamber into the van at any rate.

  Pietre, the young lad who had joined them last month, smiled at her. She managed to summon up a smile for him; he was still hopeful and still believed that this was a means to an end. He reminded her of her brother. At the thought of her brother and her mother back in their scruffy little house, her throat filled with a lump of pain. She had done all of this for them. That had been the plan at any rate. Now look. All it had done really was to put them in danger.

  Dani didn’t have family now. Her mother had died and that had been the key to her decision to escape. Elian? None of them knew about him. They knew that he had arrived with drugs still in his belly, and when they had been shat out, he had joined the men in the old house. He had been so trusting, loving really, and he had been treated kindly by his housemates. But when she had decided to go, Dani just took him because she could. He didn’t know enough to refuse, and he would be like some sort of security for her, big as he was, broad on the shoulders, and tall.

  Well, if he had family at home, they would suffer now, but it couldn’t be helped. None of it. When they first disappeared, there had been hell to pay; shouting and kicking, but, in the end, nobody had really known anything. The thugs had given up and it all calmed down again. Dani hadn’t told anyone except Ana what she had been planning, and even that was just that she was going – no hint of where, no hint of when.

  The bell rang for a toilet break and she swallowed two paracetamols with cold water straight from the tap. She could manage the rest of the day and then she would sleep. She remembered how her mother would make soup if she was ill – soup and hot drinks – and wrap a scarf around her neck. She remembered how she would sing to her when she was small, stroking her forehead and murmuring until she drifted off to sleep. Nothing could happen to Mama, nothing; so, she would endure and maybe, one day it would all be over – one way or another. Maybe one day she would really have paid for her transport and her papers; maybe one day it would all come true and she could go to London, find Dani and they could look for work together, and their lives would be worth living again. Maybe.

  Chapter 16

  By the time Paul Harris and Brian Finch arrived back at the office, the images from the post-mortem on the cadaver, and the examination of the head and hands, were being posted onto the whiteboard.

  Tanya watched the two detectives, they looked pale. Before he spoke to anyone, Paul Harris filled the kettle, kept against regulations on a table in the corner. “Tea or coffee, boss?”

  Tanya was about to tell him that she didn’t want a hot drink then realised he was addressing Brian Finch. So, they all knew.

  “Coffee please; black, two sugars. Thanks. I need a real drink after that, but I guess coffee will do for now.” He crossed the room to where Tanya had turned back to the board.

  “Bit grim, was it?” she asked him.

  “Well to be fair it’s never pleasant, I don’t think.”

  She couldn’t tell him that mostly she just felt interest and excitement. That nothing of the dead person seemed to be in the room with them, only the inhuman remains. It was something she had tried to explain now and then, and nobody understood. Other people thought her cold and unnatural, perhaps a bit ghoulish. But it wasn’t that. She saw it all – the crime scene, the post-mortem, the disturbing images – as a means to an end; part of the puzzle that would help her win justice for the victims. In the field it was different, there was still something of the human being there, maybe the twist of limbs, some personal effects. But once they were inside the morgue, they became another thing altogether. One day she might speak to Simon Hewitt about it, ask him if it was really so unnatural not to be upset by it. For now, though, she just gave a nod and made a noise that she hoped would sound like agreement.

  “Somehow it was worse,” Finch said, “no head, you know. I kept finding myself looking at the empty space. Really strange. Anyway…” He accepted the coffee from Paul Harris.

  The others had gathered around by now and he addressed the group. “Dr Hewitt is sending his reports as soon as possible. A Doctor Lee did the examination on the hands and he’s including her findings, thought it would make it easier for us if it all came together. The male…” He opened his notebook. “Young, probably mid-twenties. Pubic and body hair was dark, therefore it’s reasonable to assume the hair on the head was dark, always excluding chemical alteration of course. Fairly big, but in an overweight way, rather than muscular. In spite of his size, poor bone density and other things indicated malnutrition, ‘a bit fat but not well fed,’ was how it was explained. From the measurements of the long bones he was just around one point eight metres – that’s around six feet in old money.” He glanced at Kate as he said it.

  Tanya cringed inwardly. Detective Constable Lewis was reasonably easy going, but she was sensitive about being the oldest member of the team.

  Brian Finch continued, unaware of causing any offence. “Signs of a couple of badly healed fractures – ribs – probably from childhood. One of the most interesting things was the removal of the hands. Dr Hewitt said the cuts were fairly clean. Not sawn and thankfully post-mortem. He reckons a weighty, sharp object, something like an axe, and delivered with a heavy blow. Apart from that, he wasn’t telling us much more. This led to the medical examiner concluding that death was most likely caused by injury to the head. More than that he couldn’t say until we find said missing part and he can have a look. Samples have been sent for toxicology and DNA. No signs of long-term drug or alcohol use. No tattoos or whatever. So, that’s about it for him.”

  He continued, “The head. A female, as we know. She had longish, dark hair. The eyes were gone. Probably eaten by creatures in the water. The teeth are our best bet for identification there, though the gums had degraded. They’ve taken dental impressions and pictures. Dr Hewitt reckons that from the look of the work done, which was just a few fillings, she was probably not from the UK originally. The standard of dentistry wasn’t what he would expect, but he’s taken samples of the amalgam for further investigation.”

  He now addressed Tanya directly. “I’ve arranged to have the details circulated among our colleagues in Europe, and when the image of her face is ready, that is going to be sent on as well. She didn’t look that good in the flesh, as it were, but they’re convinced they’ll be able to produce something that looks like her and isn’t too grim for the public to see. That should be coming over in a couple of hours. So, that’s the outline of what we know. Oh sorry, the hands. Again, a heavy, sharp object such as an axe. They were almost certainly a match for the head – that’s to be finally confirmed by the lab, but it doesn’t make any sense at all if not – female, probably the same age, the right size.”

  “Thank God for that,” Tanya said.

  “Quite. The nails were short and broken, not ‘professionally’ manicured at all.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “They had been painted red. They have taken samples of the polish in the hope that we might be able to trace it. It’s a long shot though, there’s thousands of different bottles of the stuff. Callouses on the palms and healing cuts on several fingers. The thinking is that she had been doing some sort of manual w
ork prior to death.”

  “Okay.” Tanya glanced around the team. “I’m not sure that gets us much further. We’ve got the same or similar weapon, so that’s a link.”

  “If the head is from someone not from here, I mean, not English,” Sue Rollinson said, “and the body is malnourished, that’s another sort of link, isn’t it?”

  “How so?” Tanya asked her.

  “Well, I know that these days there are major problems with kids not being fed properly. Schools are talking about it all the time, aren’t they? But it’s relatively recent in this country. Since the financial crash, austerity, this bloody government.” There were a couple of grunts of agreement. She continued. “Mid-twenties, that puts him as a child just after the turn of the century. I don’t think it was that bad then, was it? I was a kid, we had plenty to eat, vitamins from the clinic – I remember my mum getting those.”

  “Okay, where is this taking you?” Tanya said.

  “Well, the woman’s teeth say she’s possibly not English. Do the poor bone strength and signs of malnutrition say the same thing? It’s weak I know but maybe it’s worth considering.”

  Tanya nodded. “It does start to look as though these two are connected in death, because of the weapon and the removal of body parts. It will be a big help if we can connect them in life as well.”

  “That’s good thinking, Rollinson,” Brian Finch said.

  Sue’s dark complexion darkened even more as she smiled back at the DI. Tanya stifled a groan. So much for Constable Rollinson’s lifelong affection for Charlie Lambert – he hadn’t been gone more than a couple of months and here she was simpering in front of his replacement.

  “Right. Sue, you come with me. We’ll go back out and interview the secretary of the golf club. See if he’s been employing any foreign workers. The rest of you get back to the search for cars moving between the two areas, probably at night of course. Tossing a bag of body parts into a lake during the day seems a bit far-fetched. Kate can you chase up the reports and make sure everyone who should have one is in the loop. We haven’t got much, but we’ve just got to keep on digging. Detective Inspector Finch, could I have a word in my office before I leave? Oh yeah, our office, your new desk has arrived. Thanks for that, Kate.”

  “Sorry, ma’am?” The woman shook her head in confusion.

  “I sorted it,” Brian Finch said, “I just made a couple of calls. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. Well, I suppose this would be a good time for you to get settled in. I’m going home after the interviews at the golf club. Some stuff to sort out. Sue, follow me in your old banger. Afterwards, I’ll be available on the usual systems, so if anything pops up let me know immediately. If not, back in tomorrow, half seven, for a catch up.”

  “If anyone fancies a drink after shift, I wouldn’t mind getting acquainted with the local watering holes. My shout, bit of a celebration.” Finch said. He lowered his head and gave them a grin.

  “Yeah, I’m up for that, and congratulations, sir,” Paul Harris answered.

  Finch waved a hand dismissively.

  “Count me in.” No surprise there from Sue.

  Kate just shook her head. “Sorry, can’t tonight, but yeah, congratulations, sir.”

  Dan waited a moment and glanced at his watch. “Yes, okay, just a quick one,” he said.

  Brian Finch followed Tanya along the short corridor; he closed the door and waited for her to speak.

  “We haven’t had much chance to get you familiarised with the team and so on. Perhaps tomorrow, early, before the meeting I could give you a rundown. Seems as though you’ve already got arrangements for this evening.”

  Tanya was just having a dig because she was well aware that the evening for her, was going to be full of Serena, and Fiona, and family stuff that she could very well do without just now. But she wondered about Brian Finch’s timing. He had mentioned going for a drink after she had already told them she was going home. Did he want to have the team to himself? Or was she reading something into an innocent coincidence? She held out her hand. “Oh yes, of course, congratulations on the promotion,” she said.

  “Thanks. DCI Scunthorpe had a word earlier, we agreed that I’ll stay on with you for now. He said you’d told him you’ve been needing help.”

  That wasn’t what she had said, wasn’t at all what she had meant, but there was no way out of this now. “Right, fine.”

  “It’ll be good to have a chat with the troops tonight, casually you know, and I did a bit of research on them when I knew I was joining you.”

  “How long ago was that?” Tanya asked.

  “Couple of days – pretty much when you picked up the case really. I’d just come back on board. I’ve been away on a couple of courses, Nottingham Uni, then the inspector’s exam and… Look, it’s fine. I’ll just have a natter with them all tonight. We’ve got plenty of other stuff to get on with, after all.”

  She couldn’t argue but his attitude irritated her. She knew that she had never been a good team player, but it was usual to have a debrief with a new senior. His mistake with Kate was an example of what could happen with a newcomer to an established team. It was annoying and unsettling, but the force was struggling, it was no secret, and this was no time to stand on ceremony. She had to just move on. She felt oddly insecure in the face of his confidence. He was already at an advantage purely as an accident of gender.

  She picked up her coat and bag and turned to look at his workstation, now all set up. The desk looked new, the computer equipment was better than hers, the screen larger, slicker. She pushed these petty thoughts aside. They had to work together, but she wished it was Charlie in the office with her right now.

  As she walked into the corridor, she narrowly avoided collision with a maintenance man who was slotting a new name plate into the holder on the wall outside her office. ‘Detective Inspector Brian Finch’.

  She stomped down the corridor muttering under her breath. Sue Rollinson was standing beside her old second-hand car, a cast-off given to her by one of her brothers. The other woman grinned and waved, Tanya raised a hand as she slid into her own vehicle and slammed her door. Sue might be taken in by his good looks and friendly manner, but she had a horrible feeling that the new officer had brought conflict with him.

  Chapter 17

  Steven Traynor was no help at all, he was nervous and edgy even as he showed them into the office in the clubhouse. His hands on the desk in front of him twitched; the fingers knitting and twisting constantly. Tanya’s eyes were drawn to them, squirming on the cheap wooden surface like two little creatures fighting to escape. His nails were bitten and on one thumb was a small, sore looking place where it appeared that he had chewed at the cuticle and made it bleed.

  She made no attempt to put him at his ease; if this man had something to hide, she needed to get at it.

  He had never employed foreign staff, he told them. Cleaners were from the local area. He waved a hand in the direction of the block of flats on the other side of the narrow road outside. They came and went, and he promised to provide a list covering the past two years. The groundskeepers – a chief keeper and two juniors – were all long-serving members, and Traynor assured the police officers that he knew them well; they were from Oxford town. He had given their details to the sergeant already and would vouch for them all with no hesitation.

  “They’re qualified, experienced. We don’t employ casuals, people don’t understand the skill required,” he said. For a moment anger had flared.

  The only other regular staff member was the bar manager whom they had already met.

  “Jamie, you’ve met him,” Traynor said, “lovely bloke. Been with us for a couple of years now. Originally from up north somewhere, Liverpool maybe. Yes, Liverpool somewhere.”

  “So, there have never been any casual staff who might have been from outside the UK?” Tanya asked.

  He shook his head. “No, none. We’ve never needed anyone else. We run a tight ship
here. Regulated.”

  He was all nerves and edginess, but as far as the current questions were concerned, she didn’t think he was lying. It was easy to check after all.

  As they walked back to the car park, she questioned Sue. “What did you think?”

  “I think he’s hiding something, but I couldn’t get a bead on it, ma’am. He was very nervous.”

  “Yes, I think it might be worth our while to bring him in to the station. Tomorrow, in the afternoon. Can you arrange that? Helping with our enquiries, that sort of thing. I think if we rattle him, something might shake loose. Just a feeling but worth following up, I reckon.”

  “Ma’am.”

  “Right, I’m going home. It’s nearly knocking off time anyway. Are you going back to the office? You can go home if you like, as long as you’re contactable,” Tanya said.

  “I’m going back, boss. Out for a drink with the new DI, remember?”

  “Oh yes, I’d forgotten.”

  “Why don’t you come? It’ll be good to have a get together. The last one was when Charlie left.”

  “No, I’ve got stuff to deal with at home,” Tanya said.

  The other woman shrugged and let it go.

  Tanya tried to concentrate on what waited for her at home. She would call and get some pizza. Tonight’s conversation might be tricky, but Serena had been through the mill and was deserving of kindness, especially from her own family. There was no getting away from it, she was family. Small and dysfunctional it might be but, despite her efforts to break free, the ties still held her. Surely there was no need for it to be dreadful and antagonistic. They needed to get back to the way it had been, with the occasional visit or phone call.

 

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