BURIED CRIMES: a gripping detective thriller full of twists and turns

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘No problem. I’m sure it’ll be fine, though. You may be worrying about nothing.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. But remember the old saying: forewarned is forearmed. And act accordingly. How about a coffee before we go and visit Benny? And sometime, when you’re not busy, could you find out how they managed to get a machine that makes such good stuff? Did they pull strings or what? We could do with one like it in our corridor at HQ. Everyone would be forever grateful to us. Think of all the favours we could call on if we offered people this rather than the muck that passes for coffee over there.’

  * * *

  The two small skeletons were laid out on adjoining benches in the pathology lab at the Dorset County Hospital. Benny Goodall stood looking at them as the two detectives entered the room. He wasn’t smiling. Sophie gave him a hug.

  ‘There’s not much I can tell you,’ he said. ‘No fractures, no scars, no unusual marks of any kind. We’ve gone over the X-rays with the proverbial fine tooth-comb, but nothing much has shown up. There is residual organic tissue on some of the bones, but nothing that can help determine cause of death. We’ve analysed parts of the surrounding tissue for traces of toxins but, again, nothing showed up. In short, we’re no further forward than we were two days ago when they were dug up. You’ll just have to wait for DNA profiling to come back. That’s unless you want me to put them in for more detailed scanning, but it will cost.’

  Sophie thought for a moment. ‘So there’s no evidence so far of any maltreatment prior to death?’

  Goodall shook his head. ‘None. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, of course. But the X-rays don’t provide any evidence one way or the other. Maybe your forensic team will have more success with their examination of the fabric and soil residues.’ He attempted a weak smile. ‘Sorry, Sophie.’

  Sophie looked down at all that remained of two children who had probably run, skipped and played their way through their short years on earth. Well, she hoped that they had had happy childhoods at least. They would have been in their mid-twenties by now if they’d lived, only a few years older than her two daughters. What had happened? Had the two children been related, or were they strangers to each other? Had they even met? It was entirely possible that their deaths had occurred weeks, even months apart. The real problem was that she still had nothing to go on. No evidence of mistreatment, no traces of drugs or poisons, no suspicious marks on those thin, fragile bones. The only positive outcome from Benny’s examination was that there was nothing for the reporters to work themselves into a lather over. Which meant that Neil Bloody Dunnett was likely to be the only awkward individual breathing down her neck — in the short term anyway.

  ‘Do you have anything at all for me to go on?’ she asked. ‘I need something to get me started. Teeth?’

  The pathologist shrugged. ‘Nothing unusual. Both sets of teeth were pretty good. We’ll do a detailed dental analysis, of course. That might help with identification.’

  She looked again at the two skeletons. ‘You’re holding something back, aren’t you, Benny? It’s staring us in the face and you’ve deliberately failed to mention it. Is this some kind of test?’

  ‘No. I decided to wait until the DNA results come back. It could just be coincidence. After all they can’t be identical, can they? Not with one being a boy and the other a girl. I knew you’d spot it, with them laid out like this, side by side. But it is a bit uncanny.’

  Sophie turned to her assistant. ‘I wonder if that reconstruction expert is still around, Barry. She seemed to be a bit of an expert on head shapes. You remember? We used her to build up an image of our suspect in the Donna Goodenough case. The trouble is, then she was working with people’s memories of what he looked like. This is different, working from skulls, but I’ve seen it done in clay. I wonder if her software does it? Could you try and track her down later to check?’

  Marsh nodded.

  ‘And no mention of the possibility that they were twins, not even to the team. Not until we get the DNA results. Okay?’

  She turned back to Benny Goodall. ‘Yes, please do the additional scans. I’ll probably have someone from on high complaining to me about the extra cost, but I need to know. How long will it take?’

  ‘This time tomorrow. I’ll slot them in for an overnight session, when the scanner’s not being used on any patients.’

  * * *

  Detective Chief Superintendent Neil Dunnett arrived in the office during the early part of the afternoon. He asked to see the incident board and stood in front of it for several minutes, his bulk blocking much of the display from view.

  ‘Not much to go on, is there?’ he said.

  ‘Cases like this are always difficult, sir. There are rarely any real clues with remains that have been in the ground this long. My gut feeling is that it’ll be a long and difficult investigation, but we’ll get there. If these children haven’t died naturally, and that’s what my instincts tell me, then we’ll get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘You went to London yesterday, I hear. Why was that? It wasn’t on your schedule. I checked. Did Matt Silver know?’

  ‘Of course. I discussed it with him on Sunday morning, just before our press conference.’ She looked at her temporary boss, picking her words carefully. ‘No one has much experience of this kind of crime, Neil. I don’t just mean on this force, but everywhere. I felt the need to pick the brains of the country’s acknowledged expert on child murder, even though he’s been retired for a while. I met him for lunch near Waterloo.’

  ‘And he saw you? Only two days after the bodies were found? I’m impressed.’ And he really was, Sophie could see. She managed to keep a straight face.

  ‘Contacts, Neil. I have lots. I’d like to call it a kind of old boys’ network, but since it involves me, I can’t, can I?’ She smiled innocently. ‘It’s my background, Neil. I’ve been around a bit. I had fairly long spells in the Met and the West Midlands. I can call on favours owed. I also went to Gloucester yesterday evening to speak to my grandfather. He was director of a support charity for abused children after he retired, and chatting to him was also helpful.’

  ‘So it was worth it?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely. I knew it would be. I’m now much happier with my own ability to run this investigation. I’m much better prepared for the tensions that will surface.’

  ‘You’re expecting problems?’

  ‘They’re inevitable. We’re dealing with two children whose bodies were dumped in the ground twenty-odd years ago. It isn’t just the press and the public who will get wound up about it. The team will feel it too. I need to be on top of it all.’ She paused. ‘You’ll be wanting to chair the press briefings, I imagine, in Matt’s absence?’

  She saw the flicker passing across his face. He liked his moments in the public eye.

  ‘Yes, I can certainly help you out there. When’s the next one due?’

  ‘Once we get the full details from forensics and pathology. There’s no point in scheduling anything until then, not unless we uncover something dramatic meanwhile. I’ve asked for the two skeletons to go for detailed bone scans. The X-rays showed nothing. So, should we arrange the next press release for Friday, say?’

  ‘Okay.’ Dunnett looked around the room. Only Sophie and Marsh were within earshot. ‘I’m concerned that your DC, Gregson, might not cope. With the background he . . . she has, I mean. There must be some instability, surely? In some ways it’s a shame you lost young Pillay last year. Where is Gregson, by the way?’

  ‘Out putting together the history of the property. Who lived there and when. Chasing up neighbours.’ She paused, thinking hard. ‘What do you mean about her background, Neil?’

  ‘The fact that she was a he until recently. Wasn’t it obvious what I meant?’

  ‘How did you know? As far as I’m aware you hadn’t been told, and neither was Matt. He might have guessed because he’s met her fairly regularly, but as far as I’m aware, you haven’t. She arrived after you started your secondmen
t. The only people to officially know about Rae’s background are myself, Sandie Blake in HR and Jim Metcalfe, as ACC. Oh, and Barry here as her immediate superior.’ She stared at her boss. ‘Has someone been talking? If so, procedures are quite clear. Whoever it was needs to be reminded.’

  ‘Don’t you tell me what the procedures are. I bloody well know what the procedures are. I’ve just been with the Home Office for months working on new training programmes and it included equalities legislation,’ said Dunnett.

  ‘So you know that your suggestion that Rae isn’t up to the job simply because of her background breaks every principle of recent parliamentary acts. You might have been working on training programmes, but I was there before you, translating the legal principles into practical procedures. I have a degree in Law, Neil. That’s why I was on that first panel. You must have seen my name on the action plan, surely? Why do you think you were in the follow-up group? The Home Office wanted to maintain the link with Dorset.’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘None of that really matters. What is important is that Rae’s background should not be made public and should not be used as an excuse for unwarranted judgements about her. She’s a first-rate detective with great potential and that’s all that matters.’

  Marsh broke in at this point. ‘I agree. I’ve been very impressed with her work. She’s much better than I was at her age. She’s never given me any cause for concern.’

  The two senior officers stood glaring at each other. Then Neil Dunnett turned on his heel and left the room.

  There was a silence.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Marsh said.

  ‘There’s something going on in that nasty little brain of his. He didn’t even pick up on the fact that I’d arranged for further scans. That’s unusual since it will inevitably add to the cost. So what was he thinking about when I mentioned it? I didn’t like what he said about Rae and I didn’t expect it. I just hope it isn’t the start of something serious, because we’ve got enough on our plates as it is.’

  He’s obviously anti,’ Barry said quietly. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘We just keep supporting Rae as long as she’s with us and doing a good job. I think he’s prejudiced against women generally, let alone a trans woman like Rae. I thought so a couple of years ago when I had my first brush with him, before he realised who I was. It wasn’t pleasant. He’s a bully who likes to pick on people he thinks are weaker than him. Unfortunately for him, he picked on me. He ended up with egg on his face, and he’s kept well clear of me ever since. He probably won’t try it on with me again, but he’s feeling out Rae as a possible substitute. Bullying by proxy.’ She looked at Marsh. ‘I’d hoped we could relax as far as Rae’s concerned, after her triumph last autumn, but I was clearly being overoptimistic. What concerns me is that Dunnett used to chair the promotions committee before he went off on secondment, but they didn’t fill his role with anyone permanent. Now he’s back I think he’ll slot in again, which is a problem. I was hoping that Rae might consider taking her sergeant’s exams sometime in the next few years. I think we can read his comments as a warning shot.’

  ‘But her position is protected by law. That’s what you said just now.’

  ‘Technically you’re right, Barry. But in practice so much depends on the boss’s day-to-day attitude. He or she can deliberately make life difficult for an individual, as some trans people discover to their cost. Rae’s happy with us, and we’re happy with her. But all Neil Dunnett has to do is initiate some kind of redeployment process under the guise of efficiency savings. He could shift her to some job where she would be side-lined, needled and made to feel unwanted. It’s in his power, that’s the problem. We live in insecure times, all of us.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll phone Sandie Blake about the possible leak. If someone at HQ is gossiping, they need to be stopped. But it’s pointless to speculate too much and we’ve got this current case to focus on. I want to see how Dave Nash’s team are getting on over in forensics. Do you want to come?’

  * * *

  The set of labs housing Dorset’s Forensic Unit was a hive of activity. In one of the rooms soil taken from around the two bodies was spread out on every available bench. Items of potential interest were accumulating in a set of trays, each fragment labelled with a card. The largest and probably the most important collection held fragments of clothing and associated fibres. Sophie peered at some of the items though a microscope. She noticed something pink amidst the dirt.

  ‘From around the girl’s body,’ Nash explained. ‘It appears to be cotton, and we think it may have had a pattern on it. A blouse or dress, maybe?’

  ‘Could be,’ Sophie answered. ‘You’ll need to judge how soft the fabric was. If it was very soft, it could have been a nightdress or pyjamas. The thing that would help most, I suppose, would be if a label could be found. You know, with the shop it came from, or washing instructions. Labels are sometimes harder-wearing than the clothes they’re attached to.’

  ‘I don’t think my team are likely to miss anything, Sophie.’ Nash sounded a little put out.

  ‘I wasn’t implying that, Dave. Goodness, why is everyone so touchy today? Maybe we all worked too hard over the weekend and need a break.’ She looked at another tray, holding a small, steel link. ‘That’s a link from a bracelet, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. We think the rest was ordinary steel and has rusted away, leaving the link clip. It was only found a couple of minutes ago, so there might be more from the same bag of soil.’

  ‘Anything from the boy yet?’ Marsh asked.

  ‘Nothing of any importance, even though I’ve got half my team working on the samples from around his body. A few clothing fibres, that’s all.’

  ‘Well at least it doesn’t look as though they were naked,’ said Sophie.

  Nash shrugged. ‘Does that help in any way?’

  ‘Psychology. If it was a stranger, it wouldn’t matter to them whether the children were clothed or not when they dumped them in the hole. If it was a family member or someone known to them, they’d be more likely to bury the children with clothes on. It doesn’t prove anything, of course. But it provides a pointer.’

  ‘Do you think they were buried at the same time, Dave?’ Marsh asked. ‘Well, it looks that way at the moment. There was little difference in the compactness of the earth around them, and no obvious layering. The two rugs show the same amount of disintegration, so my current guess is that they were put there together. Only a guess, mind.’

  ‘Okay, but we’ll keep our minds open about it,’ Sophie said.

  She looked at the forensic chief. ‘The cellar. It’s been niggling away at me ever since we went down there on Saturday. The floor seems to be of hard-packed loose material, maybe earth, maybe something different. Most of it is covered in closely laid paving slabs, but the section at the far end is open. It didn’t seem damp in there at all, just chilly.’

  ‘You want me to take a look?’

  ‘I need to cover every possibility. Would it be possible to take a few samples from the soil patch and do some analysis? But what traces could there possibly be after twenty years? What kind of things would we be looking for?’

  Nash shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but I’m not a forensic archaeologist or an analytical chemist. In this kind of situation, we contact the experts. We can call in our friendly archaeologists from Bournemouth University, and the analytical squad from Southampton. Problem solved, though it will cost us. Do we have the money?’

  Sophie frowned. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll have to do a bit of schmoozing. At least Jim Metcalfe is still in post as ACC, so I have one ally. What you could do meanwhile, Dave, is to contact those people and see if they think it’ll be worthwhile. Find out if there could be any traces if those poor kids were held in the cellar for any length of time. Then get back to me. Okay?’

  Nash nodded. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

  Chapter 6: Faces and Skulls

  Wednesday morning

  ‘Yes, I can do that.’ Louisa
Mugomba was talking to Sophie and Barry Marsh in the incident room. ‘It was always going to be the next logical step for the software and I have a prototype ready. All I need are the detailed measurements for each skull.’

  ‘They were due to be scanned first thing this morning, so we’re expecting the results any minute now,’ Marsh said.

  ‘Right. Send me everything, including the visual images from the scans and X-rays. It all helps.’

  ‘This will be really useful, Louisa,’ Sophie added. ‘If we can create some kind of likeness and publish the images in the press, then maybe it will stir someone’s memory. It’s just about the only avenue open to us. There’s not much else to go on. How’s your work being funded, by the way? Still by the Home Office?’

  Louisa shook her head. ‘That money dried up with the completion of the last package, the one I used with you a couple of years ago. It got me my doctorate, by the way.’ She stretched out her legs and rubbed a knee. ‘I bruised it at the weekend playing hockey for the university . . . Anyway, the money for this stage is coming partly from the EU with the UN funding the rest. They want to use it to help identify the bodies of mass murder victims who’ve been buried during conflicts. You know, for war crimes investigations. That’s why I’m still in post at Southampton. I’ve got a year’s grant as a post-doctoral researcher. It fell into place nicely, because it’s exactly the kind of project that will help me land a permanent job somewhere, maybe in forensic archaeology. I never imagined that I’d end up in this line when I was doing my first degree in computing and software design, but I love it. I’m using my skills to do something really worthwhile.’

  ‘How does the programme work?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘The first stage recreates the skull as a three dimensional image. I’ll use the scan data as the input for that. Maybe I should consider developing an input method that takes the scan data directly, but at the moment I’ll have to enter the figures manually. Once I have the image, I’ll compare it to the photos of the skull to check that it’s right. Then I start adding muscle and other soft tissue. I get help with that from one of the medics who has worked with me on the programme. Finally we add skin and hair. That’s where we have to use some guesswork. In your case, we don’t know what the hair looked like, nor do we know the skin tone, so I may have to produce a range of images for each of the heads. I’ll get them emailed to you and you take it from there. Okay?’