Deep Fear

by Deep Fear (retail) (epub)

  Toby, the oldest child, threw himself fully into the water and dunked his head under. His father chased him and his mother shook her head: she had no clean clothes for the boy. Well, she thought, he would dry off eventually, especially in this heat. She began to unpack a small picnic. She dangled her feet in to the water and it felt spectacular.

  She jumped when she heard her son shriek. She could see her husband splashing water to him and she shook her head. But he made the noise again and it didn’t sound like fun; the tone of his howls had changed. Her instinct was piqued and she stood up. She looked to where her husband had chased her eldest child, and she could make out her husband’s figure in the trees, but not her son’s. She panicked. She picked up the toddler.

  ‘Roger!’ she squealed. ‘Roger!’

  Her husband couldn’t hear her, above the distant waterfall and their son’s cries. He followed the boy as quickly as he could. The woods were thick, and he didn’t want to lose sight of him.

  But then he saw what Toby saw.

  The boy was bent over double, retching into the water. Roger went to him and forced his son’s head into his shoulder. The boy heaved and shook, and Roger held him. They shivered, as the extent of their soaking, unimportant before, made them icy cold. Roger looked over the shoulder of his son, and stared into the eyes of a dead girl.

  Her body lay slumped against a tree, staring at them. Her skin was whitish grey, and her hair was straggly with reeds and debris. She looked like a doll, but Roger knew that she wasn’t a doll. She was naked and Roger turned away. He hugged the boy, who wouldn’t sleep properly for the next eighteen months.

  Only now did Roger hear his wife’s cries. He shouted to her.

  ‘Lyn! It’s ok. I’ve got him. We’re ok. We’re on our way back now!’ he shouted.

  Roger stood up and picked up his son, who, soaked in water, weighed a ton. He was deathly pale and his body was limp, and Roger tightened his grip.

  When he got back to his wife, Lyn was beside herself. She momentarily put the toddler on the blanket and took Toby from his father.

  ‘He’s ok, Lyn. It’s not him. We found…we found…’ he couldn’t finish. He managed to mouth the words, ‘a body’, and Lyn’s eyes grew round. He left the boy with her, found his mobile phone, and dialled 999. He walked away from his family, not wanting them to hear the call. Apparently there was a car park near to where they were, to the west. Roger wished he’d researched the walk better and parked there. The emergency services and the police would be there in under ten minutes.

  Meanwhile, the toddler waddled over to his mother, spat out some water, and then vomited all over her.

  Chapter 22

  That morning, Kelly had woken groggy. She’d called Eden House to check with the officer on call that there were no developments overnight, and made a decision to go for a run to clear her head. She preferred working late when the office was quieter anyhow, and she’d already decided to work that afternoon. She’d fix lunch for Mum, who was spending the evening at Nikki’s with her grandchildren, and head off. At the moment, there was no reason to haul in her team at the weekend, and they were still crunching leads.

  She decided to drive to Little Mell Fell. Colin Tate had been tracked down and she’d dispatched junior officers to take a statement. An hour or so on the fells would clear her head in more ways than one. Doctor Timothy Cole had been invited to give a statement for the inquiry, and she was to meet him at midday, at Eden House. She could easily have tasked a junior officer to do it, but, at this stage, she wanted to give her team their weekends. As she parked up by a quiet layby on the Dockray Road, she mulled over questions she had for him.

  The ground was boggy and her trainers sank in places, but it was a relatively short incline to the top. It was one of her favourite views in the area, and she could see all the way down the Helvellyn range. As she reached the summit of the tiny peak, she felt her hangover disperse, and she breathed deeply as she bounced from foot to foot at the top. She could see beyond Gowbarrow Fell, to the south and would love to pay a quick visit to Aira Force to cool off, but she needed to get back.

  As she descended and came within a hundred yards of her car, her phone started to go crazy. She stopped and fiddled with it, as she got her breath. She’d missed seven calls. She’d yet to get used to the intermittent reception in The Lakes. She called Eden House and spoke to DS Umshaw.

  It wasn’t the start to the weekend she’d envisaged.

  ‘It’s a body, Boss. Cause undetermined. Pretty tricky location, access by foot only.’

  ‘Suicide?’

  ‘Could be. Forensics are at the scene now, as well as medics. Clifton Hall want you there, but I couldn’t get hold of you. I knew you couldn’t be far. Where are you?’

  ‘I’m on Little Mell. Great day for it. Typical. I’m on my way. Where is it?’

  ‘Aira Force.’

  The little hairs on Kelly’s arms stood up and she jerked her head in that direction. It would take her five minutes to get there.

  She parked at the top car park and showed her ID to the uniforms guarding the area behind the police tape. The deceased was female, and, by all accounts, young. Kelly had two questions bugging her: why was she alone, here of all places? And how long had she been here? She’d know soon enough.

  She was led through the dense undergrowth that led to the girl; memories of exploring these hidden rock pools and bushes as a child flooded back to her. Tarpaulin had been erected but DS Umshaw was right: the site was inhospitable and the structure wasn’t ideal. As she approached, and thanked the uniform for guiding her, Kelly’s first impression was that perhaps the girl had got lost. Maybe she was on a drugs high, and wandered from a party, disoriented and hallucinating. It had happened before. But when she saw the body, she had other hypotheses.

  The victim was naked and arranged, setting off warning sirens in her head. She spoke briefly to the forensic officers present, and they’d taken a good load of photos, which were on their way to her email right now. Kelly took in the scene. The girl was young but she didn’t look innocent, but Kelly didn’t know why she thought that; the victim had a hard face: one that had seen stuff. She bent down close to the victim and tried to see if there were any glaring anomalies. There appeared to be nothing, apart from, of course, the victim was dead, and, it would appear, from unnatural causes. Something about the nakedness and location disturbed Kelly, and the forensic officers agreed. It was a homicide.

  The girl looked like a mannequin, and Kelly was mesmerised by her. She was sat upright in the water; propped up like a doll, as if she’d become weary and was laid there to rest. Her skin was pale and blotchy, and the body looked emaciated and malnourished. It would have taken much effort to get her here, despite her apparent frailty, and time to tidy up her belongings and leave no trace of how she’d arrived. Another commendable stage production, Kelly thought. But she had some way to go to discover if this woman and Moira were connected. She nodded briefly to the victim, as if paying her respects, and shook her head. If this was the beginning of a spree of female victims, and Moira and this new nameless poor girl were part of it, they had one sick fuck out there on the fells. Fells she’d just been running on alone, with headphones in. She had a stern word with herself and decided to recommend that alerts be sent to the media to ward females off being alone out here. The tourist board was going to go mental. But first she must tell Cane.

  Kelly decided to get back to Eden House. She’d seen enough. She didn’t bother going home for a shower. There was a single shower in the ladies toilet at Eden House, and Kelly always kept odds and sods in her car for such eventualities. Running gear would have to do right now. She might have to cry off lunch, though. It was only going to be what her mother affectionately called ‘cold table’: ham, cheese, pate, bread and pickles. Mum would understand.

  No sooner had she walked into her office at Eden House, than DS Umshaw poked her head round her door and indicated the land line.

 
‘DCI Cane.’

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  Kelly held the phone away from her ear.

  ‘I’m aware of all of that, sir. I need more boots for this one. Even combing the area is going to be a challenge with all that water. Yes, it’s closed. I know it does.’ She nodded and shrugged her shoulders at DS Umshaw. The office was noisy, and computerised jobs lists had been belching out of the system all morning. One of them was getting hold of the coroner’s report. It might not happen today though. She’d called in DC Emma Hide, but that was all at the moment. They didn’t even have a name.

  ‘ID is my priority, sir. Fingerprints are being rolled urgently. She’s in Carlisle. Yes, sir. Right. No.’

  Finally, Cane stopped barking out questions and Kelly was able to hang up. He was only doing his job, and was probably the recipient of identical phone calls from up above; murders are big news in any constabulary, but in Cumbria – and in summer – even bigger. Two was unchartered water.

  The tourist trade was worth almost three billion pounds to Cumbria, and Kelly felt the pressure gather over Eden House as she replaced the receiver. She beckoned Umshaw and Hide, who followed her in to the incident room.

  ‘Kate, get me missing persons. Emma, I’m afraid I’m going to task you with babysitting the database for a fingerprint match. We can’t do anything without a name. I’m going to Carlisle. Kate, you’ll have to do the Tim Cole interview. My notes are all ready.’

  Back in her office, she called Ted Wallis.

  ‘Sorry, Kelly, I’ve had five missed calls from you, I assume this is to do with the young girl brought in this morning?’ he asked.

  ‘Hi Ted, yes, you’re bang on, I was wondering if you’d done the autopsy? We don’t have ID yet, but I need to know if she’s connected in any way to Moira Tate, and you are the only one who can tell me that right now. Other than that, I have nothing. It’s not what I’d choose to be doing on a Saturday morning, but I need to see this one in person, Ted.’

  ‘I’ve scheduled her in for around one p.m. I appreciate the need to get this done. I do have things that I don’t want to put off, but the gravity of this isn’t lost on me. One o’clock is the earliest I can do I’m afraid.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Not at all, I’d welcome the company. It will make the task more bearable shall we say. I hope, for your sake, they’re not connected. Can you be here by one?’

  ‘Yes, I’m leaving now.’

  ‘Super, I’ll see you later.’ They hung up. Kelly went to find DS Umshaw.

  ‘Missing persons?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Ok. Call in every half hour. I’ll be on the road. I’m going to the autopsy.’

  Kate Umshaw grimaced. ‘Ugh. Rather you than me. Have you got some Vicks?’

  ‘And perfume. Wish me luck. You’re in charge. Cane might breathe down your neck but he’ll probably call my mobile rather than here, once he knows where I’ve gone. Something tells me we’re about to get busier, Kate.’

  Umshaw nodded. Her girls were old enough to help look after each other, and she quite enjoyed staying at work late these days. Kelly continued.

  ‘First thing is ploughing through these photos. How is the appeal for witnesses going?’

  ‘We’ve got three uniforms down there now.’

  ‘Good. I’ve been through a lot of these and annotated. You know what to do. Let me know what you think about Timothy Cole. Rob thought he was a control freak but that doesn’t make him a sadist, does it?’

  ‘Nothing surprises me anymore. I’ll be nice, I promise.’

  ‘Don’t go that far.’ Kelly knew that the office was in expert hands.

  ‘I’m sorry you weren’t promoted this time round, Kate.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m happy being told what to do, seriously; you give me a job, and I do it. Put me in charge and I’d hate it. I’m happy where I am. You’re born to do this racing round malarkey, but for me, I’ll get your back.’

  ‘Thanks, Kate. I thought you might be disappointed.’

  ‘No worries, Boss. I’ll sort it.’

  Kelly didn’t need to say anymore. She went back to her office and packed her iPad into her bag, along with a bottle of water. She left the building and a knot of excitement, mixed with dread, formed under her rib cage. Her phone rang as she climbed into the Audi, and she looked at her screen. It was DCI Cane. She ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood for his questions. He’d given her the nod for more boots, and that’s all she cared about. If it was important, he’d leave a message. He could get a SitRep by getting his arse to Eden House. He was bricking it because media was about to go through the roof, now they potentially had a second body. That’s what this was all about. Her job was to work the leads, not get embroiled in media spin. She had no idea if her constitution would hold for the duration of the autopsy, but she’d soon find out.

  The M6 north of Penrith was wild and barren, but beautiful. The mountains loomed to the west all the way up to the border, and she wondered where, in all the vastness, her killer was, and what he was up to today. He might already have another victim in mind. He might already be working on them as she drove. She held onto the steering wheel tightly and turned up the music, reminding herself to unfluster her thoughts until Ted Wallis gave her something concrete.

  Chapter 23

  Ted was fresh and alert and pleased to see Kelly, who looked nervous and distracted. Well she might be; it wasn’t every day one got to witness a live autopsy on a murder victim.

  ‘Are you feeling alright, Kelly?’ he asked, as they strode along the corridor to the mortuary, which was situated underneath the hospital. Ted had worked here, in its bowels, for almost forty years: half of that as the Home Office Coroner for the North West. Members of staff greeted him wherever he went, and their conversation was broken by pleasantries.

  ‘Between me and you, I was out late last night and now I’m paying for it. I’ll give it my best shot,’ she said.

  ‘Well, good for you, I hope it was worth it. Was it a gentleman?’ he asked. Kelly was only slightly taken by surprise by the question, but she enjoyed his forthrightness.

  ‘No, just friends. I haven’t got time for men, Ted, with this bloody job.’ But it was tongue in cheek, and they both smiled.

  ‘You need to take care of yourself, and going out with friends is no bad thing. I should have done more of it at your age.’ They neared the morgue. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so.’ They went into a room and he showed her which garments she should put over her clothes. She’d forgotten how cold morgues were, and she shivered.

  ‘You can leave any time you want to,’ he said.

  ‘I know. Thank you.’ She smeared Vicks under her nose and sprayed perfume on her hands and rubbed it in so she could hold them up to her nose at any time.

  Ted looked different in his scrubs: more masterful and completely in charge.

  ‘When did you think you might want to follow this line of work, Ted?’ She followed him through to another room, trying to fill gaps in conversation to delay the inevitable. Ted opened another door and they were inside the examination room. A body-shaped lump lay inside a black body bag on top of a table, and Kelly’s pulse began to rise. The last time she’d seen the girl, she’d been in an entirely different environment. Kelly swallowed as she realised that the lump was somebody’s daughter, somebody’s sister perhaps, maybe even someone’s mother. A technician was busy making notes and preparing equipment.

  ‘Let’s get on with it then,’ said Ted. He adjusted a head set on his head, and tested it by speaking into it. He then unzipped the bag. The metal against metal, caused by the zip’s teeth, was like a chainsaw in Kelly’s mind. Ted didn’t react. Kelly’s pulse quickened.

  The girl was wrapped in plastic. Ted’s first job was to see if anything had been dislodged during the girl’s journey here, and trapped by the plastic. He cut it open carefully.

  Kelly put her hand over her mouth but forced her
self to look. At least the smell was slightly dulled by refrigeration. And the Vicks. But she could still smell it: it was like wet dog, even over her Chanel: the strongest of her perfumes.

  The first thing Kelly noticed, apart from the mass of exposed flesh, was the tracking marks up the girl’s arms: drugs. She hadn’t spotted them at the waterfall. Kelly’s pulse calmed, and she said to herself that she’d got over the hardest part. Now she had to focus. When Ted went for his saw, she’d perhaps re-evaluate.

  Ted was now in his zone, and the room fell into silence, apart from the odd clink of equipment and Ted’s rhythmic activity of investigation. He examined every inch of the body, externally to begin with. He was completely meticulous, and utterly focused. He spoke slowly and quietly into his head set, and every now and again, he’d give instructions to the technician, which were carried out straight away. They were comfortable with one another, and Kelly guessed they’d worked together for some time.

  Next, Ted cut off the bags around the girl’s hands and head, preserved thus due to the cornucopia of matter found amongst nails and hair. The fingers were stained black, where forensics had taken prints at the scene; Kelly prayed that the girl was on their system. She checked her phone: nothing yet.

  She watched as Ted called for photos to be taken, and removed items with tweezers, for bagging and tagging. Up to now, Kelly was more fascinated than repulsed, and she found herself carried away with the intensity.

  ‘That’s odd,’ said Ted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Her mouth won’t open,’ Ted said. Kelly went closer.

  ‘I think there’s some kind of adherent holding her lips together.’ Ted picked up a scalpel and sliced between the girl’s lips. A puff of air fizzed out and it sounded like a sigh. Kelly’s guts churned, but she kept watching.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Ted said.

  Kelly didn’t say a word, she just watched, and listened.