A Dark Sin: Hidden Norfolk - Book 8

by Dalgliesh, J M

  "Tom. Tom Janssen," he said, turning to close the front door.

  "Well, Tom Tom Janssen. Is my daughter anywhere around here?"

  He smiled and gestured with an open hand and a warm smile towards the kitchen. She followed him to the back of the house and the small group were visible through the kitchen window, illuminated by the glow of the fire.

  "Who has a party on a Sunday night?" Francesca asked but Tom was confident it was a rhetorical question.

  He hurriedly uncorked the wine bottle and picked up another glass. "It's not exactly a party."

  "Shame. I could do with letting my hair down after the journey I've had. If you're not going to have train stations in Norfolk, why on earth don't you build some motorways?"

  Tom raised an eyebrow, rapidly reaching the conclusion that any answer he gave would probably be wrong, so he smiled instead and opened the door to the garden. Holding it open for her to walk through first, he silently contemplated how this was going to go down. He'd got to know Tamara fairly well since she took up her role, and he liked her. More than that, he cared for her deeply, but she'd never been forthcoming about her background. He wasn't the type to pry, believing she had her reasons, perhaps keeping a boundary of sorts in place between her and her colleagues. Her mother had certainly never come up in conversation and he didn't need to be a detective to know this visit was unannounced.

  As the two of them approached the group sitting around the fire pit, several eyes turned to them. Before Tom could speak, Saffy ran up to him holding her skewer aloft for him. He dropped to his haunches and inspected the offering. It was charred black on one side and the other was still pink but the partially eaten marshmallow was gooey on the undercooked side.

  "You can have it," Saffy said, pushing it towards Tom's free hand.

  He smiled. "Thank you, but it's yours. I can get my own."

  Saffy stubbornly shook her head. "No. You can have it."

  "But it’s yours …" he glanced over to Alice and she shook her head, a half-smile on her face. "You don't really like it, do you?"

  Saffy shook her head again and thrust the skewer into his hand before hurrying back to take Tom's seat next to her mother, wellies dangling over the edge of the chair, her feet swinging gently back and forth. Francesca had been observing the exchange without speaking and, aside from Tamara, everyone else was looking at the newcomer. Tamara had her back to them but spoke over her shoulder.

  "I was beginning to wonder who'd kept you chatting at the door."

  "You can wonder no more!" Francesca said.

  Tamara started, spinning in her chair and failing to mask the surprise in both her tone and her expression. "Mum!"

  "Surprise!" Francesca curtseyed. "Hello, Tammy darling."

  Tamara was barely on her feet before she was enveloped in an embrace, her body compressed and her head resting on her mother's shoulder and staring at Tom.

  "W–What are you doing here?"

  "Can't a mother pay her daughter a visit?" she said, holding Tamara at arm's length by her upper arms. "Have you lost weight?" She cast an eye up and down, assessing Tamara's figure with a critical eye. "You're looking tired. Are you getting enough sleep?"

  Tamara frowned, shaking off the questions. "But you could have phoned—"

  "I did, darling, but you never answer or return my messages," she said, releasing her hold on her daughter and looking around the group. Tom came alongside, placing the open bottle of wine and spare glass on the table to the right of Tamara's chair. Francesca slipped her arm through Tom's and pulled him close to her, smiling. He was off balance and awkward, seeing as she was much shorter than he was, and a similar height and build to Tamara. "Of course, if you'd told me the men in Norfolk were all this handsome, I'd have come across much, much sooner."

  "Mum …" She looked beyond her, back to the house. "Is Dad with you?"

  Francesca waved the question away. "I'll tell you all about it later. So how long has young Tom been living with you?"

  "We're not an ... I mean, he's not—" Tamara said before breaking off and sighing.

  Tom eased his arm free and crossed to stand behind Alice, resting his hands on her shoulders. Saffy glanced up at him and smiled. Tamara, although doing her best to mask it, was embarrassed. Tom caught sight of a wicked twinkle in Cassie's eyes. Of all those present, she was the one who arguably knew Tamara best, seeing as the two of them went back the furthest. She was viewing this exchange with some amusement.

  "So, what are we celebrating? Tom says—"

  "It's just to welcome Eric back to work tomorrow," Tamara said, seemingly resigned to losing control of the conversation.

  "Have you been away?" Francesca asked, fixing Eric with her gaze.

  Eric looked uncomfortable, his eyes furtively glancing to Becca sitting alongside him.

  "I've been off for a few months," he said. "I–I had … an accident at work."

  "Oh dear. That's a shame. A strapping young man like you couldn't be kept down for long though, I should imagine." She looked at Becca, despite her sitting under an extra blanket, she must have realised she was pregnant. "I can see you've been keeping yourself busy, though."

  "Mother!" Tamara said, shooting her a withering look. Eric flushed and Becca stifled a smile. Cassie was the only one to laugh out loud, a response cut short by Lauren jabbing her elbow into her ribs.

  "How far along are you, my dear?" Francesca asked, unabated.

  "Seven months," Becca said proudly, placing her hands on her stomach.

  "Getting a little uncomfortable now, I expect?"

  Becca shook her head, smiling at Eric. "No, not really. We're doing fine, aren't we?"

  Eric nodded and then he checked his watch. "Listen, this has been lovely, but I really think it's time we shot off. I wouldn't mind getting an early night ahead of tomorrow. And Becca will be tired—"

  "I'm not tired," Becca said.

  "That's right, dear." Francesca smiled, tilting her head to one side and raising a pointed finger. "You're pregnant, not disabled."

  Clearly unsure of how to respond, Becca smiled politely. "But Eric's right. We should probably make a move."

  "Us too," Alice said. Saffy immediately protested.

  "But I'm not tired," she whined. "And I need to toast another marshmallow."

  "That you won't eat," Alice said gently. The reason and logic of the argument made no impact on her daughter who looked to Tom for support.

  "Sorry, young lady. I'm with your mum on this one – and it is a school night."

  "I don't want to go to school!"

  "Vegetarian meatballs on the menu for lunch tomorrow, though."

  This information resonated with Saffy and her stern expression lightened, not that she'd concede. She'd never concede. Tom silently wondered where she got the stubborn streak from – a question he would never have the courage to voice aloud.

  "Everything's vegetarian these days, isn't it?" Francesca said. "If not, then it's vegans telling you what you can and can't eat."

  Tom saw Tamara tense and roll her eyes, arms crossed defiantly against her chest. He sensed this was a comment she’d heard in the past. Cassie and Lauren rose from their chairs as well, taking everyone else’s lead. Tamara seemed relieved the gathering was breaking up. Francesca grasped Tom's forearm.

  "Be a good chap and put my suitcases in the guest bedroom, would you?"

  Tom exchanged a look with Tamara.

  "So, you're staying here… with me?" Tamara asked. Her mum looked shocked that it was even in question.

  "Do you want a hand clearing up?" Tom asked, looking around them.

  Tamara shook her head. "I'll take care of the bags, Tom. You get yourself off home and I'll see you in the morning." She turned to Eric. "It'll be great to have the team back together."

  Eric beamed.

  They all thanked Tamara and said goodnight before gathering their belongings and setting off to their cars parked at the front of the house. Francesca called after them
.

  "Don't forget, keep ’em peeled!" Francesca said, drawing a withering look from her daughter. "What? Shaw Taylor, Police Five… it was his catchphrase. "

  Tom looked back over his shoulder and smiled. The comment was lost on the others, who exchanged confused looks but carried on walking. Tom could hear the frustration in Tamara’s voice as they walked away.

  "As if they are going to have watched Police Five back in the seventies, Mum … most of us weren't even born …"

  Chapter Two

  Tom was pleased to find Eric already at his desk when he walked into the ops room. The detective constable had disconnected his keyboard and moved it to the next desk along with his paperwork trays so that he could set about wiping down his desk. It brought a smile to Tom's face; it was Eric's monthly routine. He would do it on the first day of every month, sometimes offering to tackle Cassie's as well. Not that she ever accepted. DS Knight was a bit more laissez-faire when it came to her workspace. Often he thought they wouldn't find two detectives less similar: one very focussed, methodical and a stickler for operating within the rules and the other, unpredictable and instinctive. However, the balance they brought to the team garnered results and Tom wouldn't have it any other way.

  Eric only realised Tom was there almost as he was upon him, his approach masked by the canister of compressed air Eric was blasting the keys of his keyboard with to clear the grime that collected out of sight. He smiled warmly.

  "Morning, Eric. How does it feel to be back?"

  Eric shrugged, doing his best to appear casual but he was anything but. Tom placed a supportive hand on the young DC's shoulder and winked.

  "Good to have you back. We've missed you around here."

  "Not missed the air horn, though," Cassie said from the corner of her mouth. Eric aimed the straw connected to the can at her and fired a blast of air in her direction, parting her long hair at the base of her neck. She looked around at him, grinning. Eric returned it. "The DCI is in your office. She wants a word but I'd tread carefully if I were you."

  Tom looked at her quizzically.

  "I don't think Tammy had a good night," Cassie said with a wry grin.

  Tom nodded and walked into his office. Tamara was sitting behind his desk poring over some paperwork in front of her. There was something different about her this morning but he couldn't put his finger on what.

  "Morning," he said. She looked up and then he realised what it was. "New glasses?"

  "What? Oh, yes, they are." She sat back in the seat, raising her eyebrows and taking on a thoughtful expression. "Those headaches I kept having?"

  "Yes. You said you were going to see the doctor, I recall."

  She nodded. "It turns out there's nothing wrong with me; just that I'm getting older like everyone else." She took off her glasses and held them up to him. "Sorry I borrowed your office."

  Tom smiled, waving away the apology and perching himself on the end of his desk. "So, how did it go last night, after we all left?"

  Tamara shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Nothing to tell. Mum took herself off to bed pretty soon after you left; it's a long trip from Bristol using public transport, to be fair. And she wasn't up when I left for the office this morning."

  Tom eyed the two empty cups of coffee on the desk in front of her. Glancing at the clock, it was only half past seven, so Tamara had made an early start. Perhaps he was cynical but ducking out at the crack of dawn made it easier to avoid a conversation if that was your intention.

  "So can you do it?" she asked.

  Tom realised he'd zoned out for a moment and hadn't heard her. He shook himself awake. "Sorry, what did you say?"

  "The chief super wants one of us to attend a suicide; potentially a suspicious death and they want CID to give it the once over."

  "Sure, no one mentioned it," he said, glancing through the window to Cassie and Eric.

  Tamara shook her head. "No, it's a little off our patch."

  "Where?"

  "Royston Common, I think he said—"

  "Roydon."

  "That's it."

  "King's Lynn should handle that, surely?"

  Tamara shrugged, slipping her glasses back on. "Busy, no one available … restructuring … whatever. They just want a favour and let's face it," she pointed at Eric, now wiping down his monitor with an antibacterial screen wipe, "I think we can spare a body."

  "I'll leave Eric here today, let him settle in," Tom said. "I'll take a run down there with Cassie. It'd be nice to get out."

  "Fair enough."

  "Thanks for last night. The three of us enjoyed it. Saffy loves coming over to yours. I think the size of our back garden is more like a prison to her in comparison with the open expanse you call a garden."

  "She can come and cut the grass any time she likes," Tamara said without looking up. Tom made to leave the office, turning back and leaning on the door frame. Tamara looked up. "What is it?"

  "Would you prefer it if I called you Tammy?"

  He could barely contain the smile that threatened to sweep across his face as Tamara searched for something she could throw at him. He skipped away, back into ops, before she found something that fitted the bill.

  "Cassie, get your coat."

  "Where are we going?"

  "A suspicious death."

  * * *

  Roydon Common stretched from the village that bore its name through several miles of rolling countryside encompassing two nature reserves, woodland and rough heathland. The common covered a large area to the east of King's Lynn and was popular with locals for dog walking or as an escape from the nearby town. Just minutes away from the hustle and bustle of residences or trading estates you found yourself in open fields, shared with ponies, grazing cattle or as was often the case, no one else at all.

  Much of the visitors' car park located next to the nature reserve was cordoned off by a couple of liveried police cars and they were allowed beyond the cordon when Tom brandished his warrant card. By the look of it, a number of locals were displeased at having their morning routine interrupted; several people were standing around and observing goings-on, their animals excitedly barking at one another and obviously keen to get on with their daily exercise. Getting out of the car, they were buffeted by a stiff breeze. The wind direction had changed since the previous night, now coming in at pace off the North Sea and where they stood was very exposed. They were directed towards the left beyond the gate and the centre of the reserve. Once over a small crest they could see down into the nature reserve and up the other side to where the commuter traffic bypassed the main town, a continuous hum despite the wind carrying sound away from them.

  There were two trees standing at the centre with open heathland all around them. Several people were milling around. One of them would be Dr Fiona Williams, the on-call Forensic Medical Examiner. She saw them approach and rose from her haunches, where she'd been examining a body. They exchanged muted pleasantries under the circumstances.

  "It would be nice to talk to you one day, Tom – whilst not standing over a deceased body."

  "Yes, wouldn't it?” Tom said, half smiling. "What do you have for us?"

  Fiona Williams looked down at the body, Tom and Cassie edging closer. "Deceased male, mid to late fifties—" she lowered herself back onto her haunches. Tom did likewise. "No sign of any intrusive wounds or injuries nor any scuffs or scrapes to suggest he put up much of a fight."

  "Then why assume he was involved in a fight?" Tom asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "Here," she indicated the bridge of his nose with the tip of her pen, "his nose is broken and I think it's recent judging by the damage to the skin tissue. And the trickle of blood that's run from the nasal cavity and dropped straight to the ground. You can see it better from this side." She beckoned him to join her on the opposite side of the body. The body was lying face down, almost in the recovery position, with the man's head facing away from Tom and towards the trees.

  Tom moved and saw what she was po
inting at. He looked at the ground around where they were. It was uneven and despite it being late November the wild grass was still present, concealing the surface beneath,

  "He could have stumbled and fallen. Maybe he landed face first? It happens."

  Fiona shrugged. "Yes, but … he's not geared up for walking around here."

  Tom cast an eye over the deceased. She was right. He was wearing a pair of polished brown loafers and beneath his overcoat he wore a shirt and what he guessed was a cashmere jumper.

  "You've got a dog, Tom. Would you be out walking around here last night dressed like this?" Tom had to admit he wouldn't be. "He hasn't even got any gloves on."

  Tom met her eye, pursing his lips. "Curious. Time of death?"

  "Since death, I'd usually take an hour off for every degree of temperature lost, but it was cold last night, so I'd suggest time of death was around one in the morning, give or take."

  Tom's brow furrowed. "That only leaves more questions as to what he was doing out here last night."

  "Not half as much as this," Cassie said, calling to Tom. She'd stepped away to speak to the uniformed officers already at the scene.

  He rose and looked over to where she was standing, underneath one of the trees, looking up.

  "Yes, and that's the other thing that'll have you scratching your head," Fiona Williams said, raising both eyebrows inquisitively.

  The two of them crossed the short distance to join Cassie and Tom saw what they were talking about. A hangman's noose hung from a branch above them, swaying slowly back and forth in the breeze. It didn't look right to him. Fiona seemed to notice and shared his view.

  "It's not like any noose I've ever seen," she said.

  "An enthusiastic DIYer?" Cassie asked.

  Tom thought she might be right. The person who tied it couldn't have known how to do it properly. The rope was thick and coarse by the look of it, certainly up to the job but the tying of the noose looked amateurish. He glanced back at the body.

  "It begs the question; was the noose for him or for someone else?"

  Cassie nodded. "Maybe he intervened and stopped someone else from topping themselves and they took issue with him?"