by Tim Ellis
‘I see, and when were you going to tell me this nugget of information?’
‘I just did.’
‘After you’d let me prattle on about antenatal classes. Well, come on then, tell me all about it?’
‘You don’t want to go down the sewers, do you?
‘Probably not, why?’
‘The body of a woman has been found in the sewers underneath the village of Hailey. Paul has sent a team into the tunnels to recover it.’
‘Who found the body?’
‘Sewage workers were down there clearing fat deposits.’
He pulled a face. ‘So, are we going to sit around here all day, or get our arses over there?’
She stood up. ‘Well, you can sit here for the rest of the day if you want to, but I’m going to Hailey. Oh, and while you were making a fool of yourself at the hospital, I walked to the garage and signed out a pool car.’
‘That’s what I like to see, initiative in action.’
‘Huh.’
They walked down to the car park. The pool car was a two-year old Ford Galaxy.
‘Are we doing the school run as well?’
‘There’s no pleasing some people.’
Richards drove up Ware Road to the village of Hailey. Police tape and a blue tent over a sewage access cover blocked the pavement. A sign re-directed pedestrians to the opposite side of the road.
The smell escaped beyond the confines of the tent, and Parish decided not to venture into the small space. Instead he called Toadstone’s name.
‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’
‘Well, here we are. Have you recovered the body yet?’
‘Probably another half an hour.’
‘So, there really was no rush to get here?’
‘Except...’
‘Go on, surprise me.’
‘I thought you’d like to witness our progress on the television screen?’
He ushered them into one of his large white forensic trucks. ‘One of the team has a video camera attached to his helmet.’
‘This is exciting,’ Richards said. ‘We haven’t been in your little truck before, Paul.’
‘I would have given you a guided tour anytime, Mary.’
Parish grunted. ‘Can we get back to the business at hand?’
They stood behind a chubby female with brown hair tied up in a ponytail.
‘What’s wrong with the body, Toadstone?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘Would I be asking?’
‘It has no head, hands, or feet?’
‘But you have them?’
‘No, they’re missing.’
‘But you’re looking for them?’
‘In both directions, but I’m not hopeful.’
‘A body without those appendages probably won’t be any good to me, Toadstone.’
‘I know.’
They watched as the camera panned slowly around the cramped space of the old Victorian stone tunnel.
‘What are those?’ Parish asked, pointing to a collection of different sized blocks protruding from the sludge.
The woman sitting in front of the screen craned her neck and said, ‘Stones, Sir. The mortar has crumbled away, and the stone bricks have come loose from the wall and fallen into the water.’
Richards leaned down and squinted at the screen. ‘How long has the body been in the tunnel?’
Toadstone answered. ‘We think about a week.’
Parish said, ‘Is the pathologist down there?’
‘No, she hasn’t arrived yet.’
‘Where’s she coming from, the North Pole?’ He hadn’t really had much contact with Dr Megan Riley since she’d taken over from Doc Michelin. The truth was, he resented her because she was alive and Doc Michelin was dead.
‘The body will be completely contaminated, won’t it?’
Toadstone nodded. ‘I should think so.’
‘Even if we lifted a sperm sample from the body that belonged to the killer, any self-respecting barrister would argue that it could have come from anywhere, and he’d be right. God knows what’s in the water and the tunnel itself. There must be a million types of DNA down there all co-mingling.’
‘Maybe there’ll be identifying marks on the body,’ Richards said.
‘The killer would hardly chop off her head, hands and feet, and leave a tattoo or birth mark for the victim to be easily identified. And not only that, the rats would have been feeding off the flesh while it’s been down there.’
Richards pulled a face. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘But true, Mary,’ Toadstone agreed. ‘If you look closely when the light moves, you’ll see the rats’ eyes. They’re just waiting for the people to leave, so that they can carry on feasting.’
The door of the truck opened. A woman, in her early thirties, with long dark brown hair blowing across her face, and wearing a padded red anorak said, ‘Where’s the body?’
Maybe she has come from the North Pole, he thought. ‘Hello, Doc, they’re just bringing it up.’
She climbed in, shouldered her way between Parish and Richards to peer at the screen, and cocked her head to one side. ‘No head?’
‘Nor hands and feet,’ the ponytailed forensic officer confirmed.
‘I hope you’re not feeling optimistic, Inspector?’
She was so close he could smell the shampoo she used on her hair. ‘When dealing with forensics and pathology, Doc, I never feel optimistic. I’ve been let down so many times now I’m psychologically damaged.’
‘Yeah, I’d heard that.’
He smiled and noticed a gold chain round her neck with an antique pendant. ‘Have you been talking, Richards?’
‘I never would.’
‘Nice necklace,’ he said.
‘A hobby. I collect them. It’s a Victorian wax seal fob. Men used to wear them attached to their watch chains both for decorative purposes and to seal their letters.’ She grasped it between finger and thumb and held it up to the light. ‘In the bottom is a precious stone with letters or an object engraved in it. This particular seal is a bloodstone with a bird engraved in it.’
‘Very nice.’
‘I have a hundred and thirty seven of them now.’
They climbed out of the truck, and put on masks as the body was winched up and manoeuvred through the access hole by two men pulling on the attached ropes. Once the body was safely on the pavement and the ropes had been removed, the plastic sheeting was spread apart to let Doc Riley examine it.
She pulled a pair of plastic gloves on, held a forearm over her nose and mouth and said, ‘This job doesn’t get any easier.’
Richards rushed out of the tent, and they could hear her retching.
Parish opened his bottle of Vicks VapoRub, pulled down Doc Riley’s mask and daubed a smudge under her nose.’
‘Thanks,’ she said.
He wiped a smear under his own nose, and breathed in again.
‘It’s worse than I originally thought,’ the Doc said. ‘The only thing we can hope for is that she has some unusual medical condition, or there’s an identifying mark on the body.’
‘I don’t suppose...?’
‘No, don’t even ask me for a time of death. I won’t know that until I examine the contents of the stomach.’
‘Toadstone reckons it’s been down there for at least a week.’
‘Yes, but that might not be when she was killed.’
‘When will you get to the post-mortem?’
‘Tomorrow morning. What about you meet me for lunch in the cafeteria, and we can discuss the findings?’
‘I used to...’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘I went back in there for the first time this morning with my wife.’
‘You can always come down to my new mortuary?’
‘No, the cafeteria will be fine, but I’ll pay.’
‘A gentleman.’
‘It’ll be your turn next time.’
Her
eyes creased above the mask. ‘Strictly business.’
‘Strictly business.’
And that was how they left it. He stepped out of the tent. ‘Come on, Richards, stop painting the pavement.’
‘Sorry, Sir.’
‘Don’t you carry VapoRub with you?’
‘I didn’t think it would be that bad.’
‘Next time put it on before looking at the body. Better to be safe than sorry.’
‘Did you get that out of a fortune cookie?’
‘Christmas cracker.’ He checked his watch. It was twenty past five. ‘Come on, let’s go home. We can take the pool car back tomorrow.’
She passed him the keys. ‘I don’t feel up to driving.’
‘I don’t know, the things I do for you.’
***
As soon as she walked into her flat after work Catherine knew someone had been there. These past five months she had been so careful. She ran to the spare bedroom, eased the carpet up, and lifted the loose floorboard. Her second laptop and research were still there. As far as she could see none of it had been touched. She put everything back in place, and sat on the bed.
She was shaking, and felt close to tears. The bastards, she thought. Well, they weren’t going to scare her off. Now what? She had to assume they had planted cameras and microphones. These people could and would do anything they felt was necessary to keep their secret, but she was on to them – they just didn’t know it yet.
She walked through to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine from a half-finished bottle she had in the fridge. It was a few days old and tasted like vinegar, but she swallowed it anyway. What she needed was another place to do her work, a secret place. If her flat were compromised, then the newspaper offices would be as well. In fact, everywhere she went was insecure.
It was time to raise the stakes.
It was time to take the initiative.
####
About the Author
Tim Ellis was born in the bowels of Hammersmith Hospital, London, on a dark and stormy night, grew up in Cheadle, Cheshire, and now lives in Essex with his wife and five Shitzus. In-between, he joined the Royal Army Medical Corps at eighteen and completed twenty-two years service, leaving in 1993 having achieved the rank of Warrant Officer Class 1 (Regimental Sergeant Major). Since then he has worked in secondary education as a senior financial manager, in higher education as an associate lecturer/tutor at Lincoln and Anglia Ruskin Universities, and as a consultant for the National College of School Leadership. His final job, before retiring to write fiction full time in 2009, was as Head and teacher of Behavioural Sciences (Psychology/Sociology) in a secondary school. He has a PhD and an MBA in Educational Management, and an MA in Education.
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Warrior
(Genghis Khan)
Path of Destiny
Scourge of the Steppe
The Knowledge of Time
Second Civilisation
Orc Quest
Prophecy
Adult Crime
Solomon’s Key
Jacob’s Ladder
A Life for a Life
The Wages of Sin
The Flesh is Weak
The Shadow of Death
His Wrath is Come
The Twelve Murders of Christmas (Novella)
Body 13
The Graves at Angel Brook
The Skulls Beneath Eternity Wharf
Collected Short Stories/Poetry
Untended Treasures
Where do you want to go today?
Winter of my Heart (Poetry)
Also due out in 2012/13:
As You Sow, So Shall You Reap (The Killing Sands Anthology)
The Gordian Knot (Stone & Randall 2)
The Breath of Life (Parish & Richards 6)
The Terror at Grisly Park (Quigg 5)