by MA Comley
The team quietened down and took their seats, ready to listen.
‘We’ve got a new case. A body was found in the early hours of this morning in a field. That’s the gist of what I know so far. We’ll know more when we get there. I have a name I need information on: Ross Spalding. Do all the necessary checks. I want to hit the ground running on this one on our return. Are you ready, Shaw?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Julie stood up and collected her black woollen coat off the rack in the corner.
Hero marched towards the exit and heard her heels clicking on the concrete behind him as he descended the stairs.
It took them fifteen minutes to locate the scene. ‘Crap, we could do without this weather, especially if we’ve got to traipse over muddy fields to get to the crime scene.’
‘Maybe we should invest in a pair of wellington boots, sir, and leave them in the car boot for such occasions.’
‘That’s it, clutter my boot up. Don’t you think I have enough crap to contend with having three youngsters?’
She fired him a disgruntled look. ‘I was just saying that it would save our shoes from getting ruined. I’ve only had these a month, and they’ll be heading for the bin in a week or so – sooner, after traipsing through this mud.’
‘Part of the job, Shaw. Don’t go getting any ideas about claiming for extra footwear on expenses, either.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it. You do have an umbrella in the boot, I take it?’
‘Of course. Stay here, and I’ll get it.’
After retrieving the umbrella, he held the door open for Julie to join him under cover, and they approached the soggy field. The gate was open, and in the distance, the white marquee SOCO had erected, was prominent in the large green field.
‘Strange place to dump a body, don’t you think, sir?’
He cast an eye around the field. ‘Maybe the body was dumped here. The crime might have been committed somewhere else first.’
‘What about the man’s vehicle?’
‘I’m as much in the dark about that as you are. Let’s see what Susan has to say first.’
They tried to tiptoe through the field, squelching noisily across the sodden, cowpat-riddled area, until they reached the marquee.
‘All right, Susan. Been here long?’ Hero asked the pathologist, who was togged up in her white paper outfit and blue covers on her feet.
‘Long enough for my feet to feel as though they belong to someone else.’
‘More like autumn than spring, I grant you that. What have we got?’ His gaze drifted down to the corpse at her feet, and he retched. ‘Oh my God!’ He looked up at Susan again, straining to keep the vomit from rushing into his throat.
Susan shrugged, unaffected by the state the body was in. ‘According to his ID, located in the wallet we found lying next to the body, this is Ross Spalding of Spalding Enterprise.’
‘Was he killed here or dumped after the event?’ Hero surveyed the surrounding area, doing all he could not to lay eyes on the corpse again.
‘I’d say he was definitely killed on site.’
Hero snapped on a pair of gloves and picked up the evidence bag containing the wallet. He opened it and discovered it was full of fifty-pound notes. ‘Well, I guess we can rule out robbery – there must be over two grand in here.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’ Susan pointed at the victim’s head. ‘It’s hard to tell, but the brief examination I’ve carried out of the charred remains so far, indicates that he was killed by a single gunshot wound to the head. The perpetrator knew his stuff. No sign of casing found, so he cleaned up after himself before he doused the victim in petrol and set fire to him.’
‘Bloody callous shit. Even so, would you leave a couple of grand lying around? I know I wouldn’t if it was staring me in the face like that.’
Julie stepped closer to the victim, appearing to handle the situation better than Hero. ‘Maybe the killer was disturbed by something. Perhaps the sound of the gun being fired brought attention to the scene and someone came to investigate the noise.’
‘Good point, Shaw. Maybe the person chose this location to avoid being overheard and it backfired, so to speak.’ He gestured to an evidence bag containing cream-coloured fabric, lying at the victim’s feet. ‘What’s that?’
Susan picked it up and shrugged. ‘A canvas bag. We’re going to dust it for prints back at the lab. Seems an oddity to find at such a scene.’ She pointed over her shoulder in the other direction. ‘There’s also a petrol container that we’ll be dusting for prints.’
‘Maybe the killer carried the weapon he used in the bag.’ Frowning, Julie shrugged.
The smell was becoming unbearable for Hero. He coughed to clear the charred fumes filling his throat. ‘Hmm … it does seem strange. If we’re looking at a professional killer, is that really something he would carry?’ Hero asked, his thumb and finger on his clean-shaven chin.
‘Maybe it was the victim’s. Perhaps he was carrying something valuable that his assailant wanted,’ Susan suggested.
‘It must have been something mightily valuable if the attacker was willing to forego what was sitting in the man’s wallet. Something just doesn’t add up to me in that scenario.’
‘I’m of the same opinion.’ Susan placed the evidence bag on the ground again and returned to the body. ‘At the moment, what with the state the body is in, I have no idea if there were any kind of defence wounds to the man’s hands or whether his clothes were intact before the fire started. In other words, it’s hard to determine if he put up any kind of struggle.’
Hero sighed. ‘The victim’s car? Was that here when you arrived?’
Susan shook her head. ‘No, it might be worth taking a ride down the road, see if he was pulled over and escorted here by his assailant.’
‘We’ll take a nosey when we leave here. To me, it looks like an experienced killer at large. The question is, why Ross Spalding? Never seen anything like it before. Heard about contract killings, killing the victim with one shot to the back of the head, execution style, but never heard of anyone burning the body afterwards. Julie, have you got internet on that damn phone of yours?’
Julie’s tampering with her numerous phone settings, constantly testing out what ringer she wanted to use next, was a relentless cause of irritation to him. He hated all the bells and whistles that came with mobile phones nowadays. All he wanted his damn phone to do was ring when someone needed him.
‘Of course, sir. What do you need?’ She extracted her phone and her fingers busily swiped screens into action as she awaited his instructions.
‘Spalding Enterprise. Look up the address and see what you can find out about it. I think that should be our next stop.’
‘Give me five, sir.’
‘Do it outside. I have trouble concentrating when you’re fiddling with that contraption.’
Susan chuckled when Julie glared at him and spun on her heel. She picked up the umbrella sitting by the entrance and left the tent.
‘I don’t know how she puts up with you, Hero. The poor girl is only trying to help you out and—’
‘She knows me. Knows that I can’t be bothered with that stupid phone of hers. She drives me potty in the car with it. Spends hours on end going through all the tunes when she gets bored with the ringer she has. Why she can’t do that at home, instead of during work hours, more often than not when she’s sitting next to me in the car, I’ll never know.’
‘Maybe she chooses to wind you up. Anyway, enough frivolity. We’re about to pack up here and move things back to the lab. There’s nothing more I can tell you until I complete the PM.’
‘Will that be today?’
‘Probably be tomorrow in all honesty. The state the body is in, anyway. I have a young suicide victim to deal with first. The poor girl was only thirteen, bullied at school for months and decided she couldn’t stand it any longer.’
Hero tutted. ‘I’d like to round all these bullies up and parcel them off to a desert island s
omewhere, just a gaggle of bullies, or whatever the correct terminology for these idiots would be. Let them sort it out between themselves and leave the innocent victims they intimidate to get on with their lives in peace. Bad parenting – that’s what it comes down to. You’ll never see my three going out of their way to make another child’s life so unbearable that the only way out is to end their own life. God, sorry for sounding off, Susan, but every bloody day, we learn about yet another poor child so stressed out by these mindless no-marks that the only option staring them in the face is to end their own lives, leaving the bullies to laugh their socks off and to move on to yet another victim. Breaks my heart in two to think how cruel the younger generation is nowadays. It doesn’t bode well for when these morons get older. If they’re prepared to drive someone to commit suicide when they’re in their teens, what will they be capable of in a few years from now? That’s what the parents don’t understand. You and I know that once someone has tasted that kind of power over another human being, there’s only one result.’
‘You’re right, I wholeheartedly agree with you, Hero. The kids of today think everyone on this planet owes them something. We’re living in dangerous times. I don’t know about you, but up to the age of sixteen, I had fifty pence pocket money and then on my sixteenth birthday, my father cut that off and forced me to go out and find work – any work – just so long as he didn’t have to keep forking out for my meagre pocket money. Can you see the kids of today putting up with that?’
‘Nope, I can tell you one thing: Louie won’t be getting a damn phone or TV in his bedroom until he’s old enough to buy them for himself. They’re a damn nuisance.’
Susan shrugged. ‘I’m with you on that one, however, maybe that will invite bullying from the other kids who have it all.’
Hero scratched his head and held his hands out, palms upwards. ‘You have a point. Does anyone really have the solution for dealing with the younger generation today? I digress. We should set aside trying to put the world to rights for when we have more time. Let me have the PM report as soon as you can please, Susan.’
‘I will, should be within the next forty-eight hours if I get my finger out, providing an emergency doesn’t come in from somewhere else.’
‘That’s good enough for me. By the way, who found the body?’
‘The farmer, first thing this morning, around seven. He was about to relocate his herd of cows to this field when he saw the victim lying in the middle. He was livid, thought the man was drunk to begin with, until he realised he was dead. Blamed it on his poor eyesight, said he didn’t see the body smouldering until he got closer.’
‘So he called it in right away. Was he here when you arrived?’
‘No, he was shaken up. The uniformed officer who was first on the scene took down his name and address and sent him off home, told him that someone would drop by to see him to take down a statement within the next few hours.’
‘Thanks, Susan, maybe that should be our first stop then instead of the victim’s place of work,’ Hero said, more thinking out loud than seeking the pathologist’s advice.
‘Good luck. Time for me to get this side of things wrapped up.’
‘I get the hint. I’m leaving. Email me the results when you have them, thanks.’ Hero left the marquee as Julie was ending her call. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve rung ahead and spoken to the victim’s PA, Georgina Windsor, who said she would ensure everyone was available for questioning around midday.’
‘Good, we need to find the uniformed officer who first attended the scene. Apparently, he took down the address of the farmer who owns this field – he’s the one who discovered the body. That should be our first stop.’
‘Want me to check with the station, sir?’
‘That’d be great. I’ll take a mooch around the area now that the rain has eased.’
Hero left Julie dealing with the request and set off. His eyes focused on the ground, not only looking for clues, but also making sure he avoided the black smelly ‘country pancakes’, as he used to call cowpats as a kid. However, he found nothing out of the ordinary in the vast field. The marquee seemed to have confined every scrap of evidence pertaining to the crime.
Julie stood beside him, under the umbrella, holding up the legs of her trousers. ‘Damn grass, it’s getting deeper the further we venture into the field. I’ve got the address, sir. Thomasson said that the farmer, Dick Drake, was going to stay at the farmhouse this morning to recover.’
‘Good, let’s shoot over there now. Is it far?’
‘I’ve checked on Google maps, and it’s about ten minutes from here.’
Hero marched towards the gate while Shaw picked her way through the shorter grass. Maybe it would be worth getting some wellies, after all.
Julie directed Hero through the winding country lanes, using her phone’s navigation system, to a large farmhouse surrounded by numerous barns and outbuildings. There was a huge red tractor parked at an angle outside the main entrance.
Hero knocked on a pane of glass in the old front door and waited. Julie played with her damp trousers clinging to her ankles, which amused him.
A grey-haired rotund woman in her early-to-mid fifties opened the door. ‘Hello. Can I help?’
‘Mrs. Drake? I’m DI Nelson, and this is my partner, DS Shaw. Is your husband home?’
‘Yes, he’s warming himself in front of the range. I think he’s still in shock after finding that…’
‘I understand. Is it all right if we come in and take a statement from him? Do you think he’ll be up to that?’
‘Yes, he’s keen to help. Eager to get that body out of his field and back to normal. Is that going to be possible today?’
‘I don’t see why not. The pathologist was about to clear the site as we left.’
‘Oh, good. Come in. You look sodden. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’
‘Thank you, a coffee would be nice.’ Hero motioned for Julie to put her order in with the woman.
‘I’ll have a cup of tea if it’s not too much bother for you, thank you.’
‘Of course not. Excuse the mess in the kitchen. I’m in the process of bottling up pickles for the Women’s Institute stand for the weekend at the farmer’s market. I’d have had it all completed if Dick hadn’t come home in such a state. Come through.’
The hallway was a murky brown colour. The only light penetrating the space was from the two panes of glass in the front door and a small window halfway up the stairs, which was dressed with heavy, red velour curtains.
When the three of them walked into the kitchen, an elderly man who looked to be twenty years the woman’s senior, turned to look at them.
‘Dick, it’s the police to see you. They’ll want to take down your statement, I should imagine.’
He remained seated, next to the Aga, which was throwing out a lot of heat to warm the room. His face was drained of all colour, despite his proximity to the hot appliance.
Hero stepped forward with an outstretched hand. ‘Hello, Mr. Drake. I’m DI Nelson. Sorry you discovered the victim in your field this morning. It must have been a shock.’
The man reached out with his scarred, gnarled hand to shake Hero’s. ‘It was. Not sure how long it’s going to take me to recover from seeing that. Never seen a dead body before.’
‘Are you up to giving us a statement?’
‘I suppose so, although I won’t be able to tell you much, lad.’
Hero smiled at the old man. ‘Is it all right if we sit down?’
Mrs. Drake quickly swept some pickling jars aside and wiped the table down with her apron.
Julie and Hero sat side by side at the table. Julie had a clipboard in hand, with a statement form ready to fill in clipped to it.
‘If you can start from the beginning, Mr. Drake?’ Julie asked, above the noise of the whistling kettle sitting on the hob.
Mrs. Drake busied herself making the drinks as her husband cleared his
throat, anguish distorting his features. ‘I usually start around five thirty. I milked the cows. We’ve only got a small herd now. Sold most of them off last year – just no money in farming nowadays. It’s going to get a lot worse, so they reckon, because of this Brexit situation. Anyway, the field where the cows were has been grazed right to the ground, and it was time to move them onto pastures new. I went down there to make sure the field was ready for the girls, and lo and behold – what did I find but a dead man lying in the middle of the field. Of course, with my dodgy eyesight, I didn’t realise that it was a person until I got closer.’ He shook his head. ‘Bloody shock, I can tell you.’
‘Were there any cars around when you arrived?’
‘No, which was the first thing I looked for. How did he get there?’
‘That’s what we need to find out. Not the easiest of tasks out here in the country with no CCTV cameras to aid our investigation.’
‘I suppose. I looked up and down the roads in the area on the way back home but couldn’t find a vehicle. Very strange. Do you reckon someone dumped the body and ran off?’
‘Looks that way. What about the gate? Was that still secured or open?’
‘Still secured. That’s a thought – so whoever dumped him there would have been forced to haul his body over the gate to place him in the field. Sounds like a lot of hassle to me.’
‘Maybe. Again, it’s something we’ll be relying on the Scenes of Crimes officers to work out for us. Did you disturb any of the evidence when you arrived?’
‘No, not sure if you’re insinuating anything with that question, but I touched nothing. His wallet was lying beside him, and there was a material bag at his feet, which I found to be odd.’
‘Could the wind have blown the bag there? Perhaps it’s a bag that you use when feeding the cows?’
‘Nope, never seen anything like it before, not with handles on. More like something the wife has for her shopping than what I’d use around the farm.’
‘Thanks, just wanted to rule that one out from the outset. What about over the past week or so? Have you noticed anyone acting suspicious around your land? Perhaps you’ve spotted a car that you haven’t seen in the area before?’