‘I hope you don’t mind, but Doctor Bates and I agreed that I would fill you in. He could see I was keen to get on with my own examination, and there didn’t seem any point in him hanging around.’
‘He’s not usually so accommodating.’
‘Really?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Seemed like a pussycat to me.’
‘Now that is hard to believe. So how come you’re here? I forgot to liaise with the duty doctor last night, so I know he didn’t contact you.’
‘Hmm, this is where I show how much of an anorak I am. I went home after the pub, but couldn’t get my mind off what I’d seen. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I made a few calls here and was eventually put through to Doctor Bates. It was he who called me when the remains came in. I told him you and I had arranged for me to examine the body. I hope that was all right?’
Bliss wasn’t at all sure that it was all right, but he told Grant it was anyway.
‘Good. Anyhow, I have the information for you, and should be able to answer any questions you might have in Doctor Bates’s absence.’
‘Well, that’s why we’re here.’
‘Oh, and I thought it was to see little old me.’
‘That, too.’ Bliss took a step closer to the table and peered down at the skeletal framework. ‘So, what stories does she have to tell us?’
‘What makes you think we have a female here?’
‘The boss said he knew back at the scene,’ Chandler informed her.
Grant raised an eyebrow, appraising him. ‘Tell me why.’
‘The skull mainly,’ Bliss said, quietly confident in his understanding of the human bone structure. ‘The forehead is almost vertical, the eye sockets are fairly circular, and the nasal cavity is somewhat pear-shaped. All of those suggest female. Add a broad pelvis with triangular holes, and I’d lay odds on it being a woman.’
‘And you’d be right. I’m impressed.’
He smiled. ‘As I tried telling Penny last night, it’s a basic observation.’
‘Still, it’s more difficult when you don’t have a male skeleton to compare it with. You did well.’
‘Not bad for an amateur. But that’s as much as I can tell you. Now it’s your turn.’
‘Very well.’ She nodded and drew a deep breath. ‘First of all, I can confirm that, as suspected, the body was definitely reinterred.’
‘That was a good catch, Emily,’ Chandler remarked. ‘Any idea how long she’d been there?’
Grant folded her arms beneath her breasts. Her long wavy hair was tied back now and fastened with a clip. The look took a few years off, drawing weight from her face. ‘An idea, yes. Within reasonable limits. And I’m sorry to say that you have a criminal investigation on your hands.’
Bliss blew out some pent-up air. He shrugged, licking his lips. ‘I think a part of me already guessed that.’
‘Well, let’s see what I can tell you. For a start, your victim was probably aged between twenty and twenty-five when she died.’
‘Now it’s my turn to be impressed. How can you tell?’
‘There are lots of clues, really.’ She swept her hand down and indicated the hip bones. ‘A major sign is here, at the crest. It only becomes united at around the age of twenty-two to twenty-five. This is almost there, but not quite fully formed, hence my estimation.’
‘It’s good to have an approximate age to work with. Cuts the search range down considerably.’
‘She’s also obviously Caucasian.’
‘Skull shape again, yes?’ Chandler suggested.
‘Among other things. So, a white female in her early to mid-twenties. The size and density of the bones suggest she was slight of build, and I’d estimate her height to be approximately five-two.’
‘Not a bad start,’ said Bliss. He smiled at Emily, noting the gleam of excitement in her eyes. She was on a roll. He admired her confidence, given her admission of shyness the night before. ‘And I can tell just by looking at you that you have more for us.’
‘Indeed I do, Inspector. Plenty.’ She cleared her throat, popped her chain and pendant behind the sweeping neck of the green scrubs jacket. ‘In my opinion, and I must stress that full forensic testing will have to be carried out to absolutely confirm anything I tell you, your victim was in the ground over at Bretton for around three to five years. Prior to that, she spent a considerable time close to the lake over at old Fletton, somewhere near the site of the London brick works.’
Bliss felt his mouth fall open and could not prevent his eyes from widening. He felt like a cartoon figure caught in a moment of characteristic amazement. He glanced at Penny, who blinked back at him, then he locked eyes with Emily once more.
‘I don’t suppose you can give us map coordinates, can you?’
Grant laughed and leaned back against the smooth stainless steel roll around the edge of the table, crossing one leg over the other. ‘Actually, if I had a couple of months out there with my probes, I’d probably be able to do just that. I know my bones, Bliss, but I know my soil, too.’
‘Of course.’ The anthropology in tandem with archaeology. Bones and soil – the perfect combination in this case. He was starting to think he’d made a wise choice after all. ‘So, how on earth do you know these specific details?’
‘Well, obviously I carried out the essential chemical analyses, and the levels of nitrogen became a guideline, if somewhat inexact. UV tests revealed a slight pale blue glow to the bones, which again narrowed things down for me. A few scraps of partially rotted material were discovered by Doctor Bates, some of which we thought might be some form of sacking cloth, the rest clothing. We’ll know more on that within a day or two, but whatever they are they’re not old and are man-made. Once I’d worked through the top layers of decay on several sample bones, it became obvious to me that the remains had at some point been immersed in clay. Now, as you probably know, Peterborough is riddled with Oxford clay soil, but you may not be aware that Bretton Woods is one of the few areas that has a high level of limestone as well. The samples I looked at confirm this. However, the brick works used a particular density of clay that was required for their type of brick, and this was what I found.’
‘But there used to be a major brick works out by Hampton and Yaxley,’ Chandler pointed out. ‘Same company made them, so it must have been the same clay.’
Grant nodded and wagged a finger at her. ‘True. So I had to narrow it down further. That was more difficult, but I was able to detect a good deal of moisture in the bones at around the time they would have initially been buried. The level of moisture could not have come from rainfall alone, so I had to check on other sources. The lake at old Fletton is the only major source I can think of in such close proximity to the specific type of clay soil.’
Bliss put his head back and exhaled deeply. ‘That’s damned fine work, Emily. Really, that’s fantastic. So now I suppose the big question is – when was she killed?’
‘My estimation is she’s been dead for between twelve to sixteen years.’
He ran the figures. ‘So, she may have been buried in old Fletton sometime between nineteen ninety and ninety-four.’
‘Maybe eighty-nine at the outside, but I doubt it.’
‘And then exhumed and reburied around, say, two thousand and one to two thousand and three.’
‘Around then, yes. Give me more time and I’ll probably be able to firm up on those estimates.’
Bliss nodded. ‘But you think you’re close?’
‘Close enough to put my name to.’
His mouth felt dry. A familiar anticipation lurked inside his stomach. Like pangs of hunger, it gnawed at him. Churning. ‘So last night we knew nothing. Now, just a few hours later, we could run a search for an IC1 woman in her early to mid-twenties, who went missing between nineteen ninety and ninety-three. Jesus! That certainly helps us narrow things down. This is terrific news, Emily. Better than I could have hoped for.’
She beamed, strength suddenly renewed. ‘I have ev
en more,’ she said eagerly.
‘Like her name and address?’ Chandler ventured, a wry grin on her face.
‘Not quite that good. Informative, though. Some of the smaller bones are absent. Assuming your people did their job properly, the missing bones may have been scavenged by animals, or more probably left behind at the original burial site.’
‘That’s interesting. We can check back through the system to see if any bones have been discovered by the lake and reported.’ Chandler turned her eyes to Bliss. ‘We can also get a search team out there, yes?’
‘I’d like to think so.’ Bliss thought about how such a request might be viewed by the bean counters, given the amount of human resources required for such a job. He nodded towards Grant. ‘Go on, Emily. What else?’
‘I found no evidence of grooving on the pelvis, so I’d say she’d never given birth. We’ll come back to that, however. Oh, and this is something I think you are going to like very much: some time in her late teens, this young woman’s right leg had been broken pretty badly.’
‘Bad enough to cause immobility?’ Bliss asked, his mind racing ahead to connect with all kinds of possibilities. He felt his chest tighten.
‘For a time. Certainly bad enough for her to require surgery and extensive physiotherapy. And the insertion of a strengthening rod and some bolts.’
Bliss leaned forward, reached out a hand and clamped it over one of hers. He looked down, unable now to contain himself. ‘You found them? They were with the remains?’
‘Doctor Bates found them, yes. Still in position. He removed them and put them in a plastic evidence bag for you.’ She nodded towards a low table by the doors, the bag lying between a foam model of a brain and a hollowed-out skull that was being used as a pen holder. ‘If the rod and bolts were fitted here in the UK they’ll be stamped with a serial number. If you’re lucky it will have been done locally, and you may be able to trace the rod from its number. Otherwise, you’ll face a hard slog trying to run a national search.’
‘Well, let’s think positive thoughts, eh? It could be just what we need to get an ID.’
Grant smiled, pointing to the right fibula, a gloved finger alighting softly in several areas. ‘Removing the rod and bolts did cause a little bit of damage, but it was a nice, clean job, so preservation was good. Despite some excellent healing, it’s obvious to me that her shin bone had been shattered, probably no more than five years before she died.’
It was a better result than Bliss could have dreamed of. If their victim was a local woman, the hospital would almost certainly have records of such a major operation, even if they were not able to trace the steel rod to a specific patient. Bliss puffed out his cheeks and spread his hands.
‘I don’t know what to say. You’re a diamond, Emily. You’re a bloody diamond.’
She flapped away the compliment, but he could tell she was delighted. Her cheeks shone beneath the harsh bank of powerful lights overhead. Then her face grew serious. She rested her hands on her hips.
‘So now we all know that I’m good at what I do. But I must say, you two, I’m disappointed at your level of competence.’
Bliss was taken aback. ‘You are? Why do you say that?’
‘You’ve not even asked how she was killed.’
‘You know that as well?’ This from Penny Chandler.
‘Of course.’
‘That’s amazing.’
Emily grinned. ‘Not really. The good doctor told me.’
Bliss chuckled. ‘I would have got around to asking,’ he assured her. ‘I was more interested in everything else you were telling us. So, what’s the SP from Bates, then?’
Grant gave a curiously vulnerable sigh, her mood darkening in an instant. ‘The poor girl was strangled.’
‘Strangled. No doubts?’
‘None at all. It was brutal enough to snap more than cartilage. The small hyoid bone, just above the thyroid, was broken. That’s usually a sign of strangulation, most probably by hand rather than ligature. However, she was killed only after suffering a prior trauma, mostly to the lower half of her body. Damage and slight stress fractures to both thighs suggest that, shortly before she was murdered, your victim was probably struck by a vehicle.’
Chandler whistled softly, her eyes drawn to the remains once more. ‘Not her lucky day, then?’
Emily Grant also returned her gaze to the bones lying on the darkly reflective table. She shook her head. ‘Far from it, I’m afraid.’
‘Would the injuries have been incapacitating?’
‘I doubt it. She will have been in pain, but probably able to move and walk unaided. But if that weren’t enough, I have one final thing to tell you if you can bear to hear it after all that.’
‘More?’ Bliss shook his head in wonder. ‘You’re a mine of information.’
He saw all traces of humour flee from Grant’s eyes. And when she told them what she knew, Bliss understood why.
Chapter 4
Due to the chaotic nature of the parking arrangements in and around the hospital, Bliss and Chandler had to walk more than half a mile to his two-year-old Vauxhall Vectra. He’d ended up leaving his car in a residents’ parking bay outside a block of narrow terraced houses squashed together anxiously like London commuters during rush hour. Bliss buckled up, turned the engine over, but made no move to pull away. An LCD display on the dashboard told him the temperature had barely touched five degrees. He tried to recalculate what that might be in the more familiar Fahrenheit. Closest he got was around forty. Bloody nippy, in other words.
Outside the relative comfort of the roomy vehicle, blustery weather scattered leaves across the streets and pavements, where they fled like frightened creatures ahead of the forceful wind, before finally huddling together in the gutter. A bleak sky seemed to press down against the rooftops, the narrow street becoming almost claustrophobic. Winter conditions already, with autumn yet to bid its farewell. Bliss shuddered once, and a shiver ran between his shoulder blades and continued down the knobs of his spine. Whether prompted by the cold or by all he and Chandler had seen and heard back in the mortuary, the shudder made him feel uncomfortable. He switched on the heating and waited for warm air to waft over them.
Mulling over the information they’d gleaned from Emily Grant, Bliss married it together with the impression he’d got from visiting the scene itself. Not the scene of crime, apparently, which would further complicate matters. He knew the lake over at Fletton fairly well, having walked the dogs there on several occasions. Now he wondered if those pleasant surroundings had been the scene of a murder. He recalled the winding paths he and the Labs had taken, fishermen he’d chatted with, carp basking near the surface of sun-drenched waters. It felt odd to think that a young woman might once have lost her life and been buried there.
Penny Chandler sat in the Vectra’s passenger seat alongside him, completing her notes on a spiral-bound writing pad. She’d been quiet since leaving the mortuary, but Bliss needed to move beyond his own thoughts.
‘So, what do you think?’ he asked her, shifting sideways to look at the young officer.
The DC gave his question some thought, tapping the half-chewed blunt end of a biro against her teeth. ‘If the Bone Woman is even close to being right, and we have no reason to doubt Emily’s findings, then I’d say we’ve got one crappy job ahead of us. Frankly, I’m beginning to wish someone else had caught the shout last night.’
He nodded his understanding. Chandler had a healthy attitude to work and the people she met during the course of her duty, and was often forthright in her opinions. She could spout the politically correct doctrine when it was needed around superiors who cared about that sort of thing, but out in the job she worked the real world around her. It hadn’t taken Bliss long to realise they thought along the same lines. There were a lot of politically correct young coppers in the job these days, but Penny Chandler wasn’t one of them. So far it had made for a good working partnership, and Bliss believed a firm, relaxed frien
dship had been established. Her being easy on the eye was a pleasant bonus, not that he’d ever take that line of thought any further.
He said, ‘I think you should see this case as a challenge rather than a chore, Penny. It’s not going to be your average job, that’s for sure. There’ll be several new experiences for all of us, I’m certain.’
‘A learning curve, eh?’
‘Exactly. These kinds of jobs have a lot to teach us.’
A young kid drew up alongside the car, straddling a Raleigh mountain bike. He had a shaved head and wore sunglasses despite the day’s gloom, his jaw working furiously on some gum. His Manchester United team shirt and baggy camouflage trousers were being savaged by the wind, and Bliss had to wonder how the boy was managing to remain on his bicycle. The lad rapped on the side window with his knuckles. He was all of eight, going on twenty. Bliss powered down the glass and peered up at him.
‘Want your wheels looking after, mister?’ the boy asked.
‘Why would I want you to do that?’
‘If you’re going into the hospital I can make sure no one nicks your motor.’
Bliss shook his head, playing along. ‘We’ve just come out of the place,’ he said. ‘And if you weren’t aware of that, maybe you’re not as good at protection as you think you are.’
‘I’m the best there is. I was busy, that’s all.’
‘Even so, my motor didn’t seem to come to any harm while we were in the hospital.’
The kid did some quick thinking. ‘That’s because I was looking after it.’
Laughing, Bliss said, ‘Good try, but I don’t think so, son.’
‘How about next time? You could be one of my regulars.’
This forced another chortle. ‘I think we’ll be okay no matter where we park.’
Bliss felt the weight of the boy’s close scrutiny for a few seconds. Then the kid nodded. ‘Oh, I get it. You lot reckon you’re better than everyone else.’
‘Us lot?’ Bliss touched a hand to his chest.
Bad to the Bone Page 4