1911021494

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘More likely they saw on the news that you’d found the bodies. That would have panicked them into moving further out,’ said Silver.

  ‘It’s proving to be a bit gruesome, Matt. Benny called me yesterday and said that the two women might have been slashed and then stabbed to death. He needs a bit more time to confirm it.’

  ‘Do you need extra help?’

  ‘It would be useful.’

  ‘No problem. The chief’s given us carte blanche because of all the publicity. I can get you some extra people.’

  ‘It’s quality, not quantity, Matt. I’ve got Lydia back from her course, and that’ll be a bonus. We mostly need people to go through the records, checking details, contacting people and that kind of thing. A dozen will be enough.’

  ‘Fine. Leave it with me. I’ll come down as well.’ He held up his hand. ‘But don’t worry, I’m not taking over. You’ll still be the boss. It’s just that you’ll need someone here to keep everything ticking over when you’re out and about. And you know how you like to bounce ideas off me. I promise not to get in the way.’

  * * *

  Nadia was sitting in the incident room with Lydia Pillay when the message came through that her mother had arrived, and would be with them soon.

  Sophie called Mary Porter, and she set out immediately.

  ‘Nadia, there’s no need to be anxious, surely?’ said Lydia.

  ‘But when she knows what they did . . . I wish you do not say. Sometimes I think I would rather die.’

  ‘But if she doesn’t know, she won’t understand what you went through. And she will guess at some point, even if you deny it. No lies, Nadia. That’s what the chief inspector said. We know it will be hard for you both.’

  Mary Porter was the first to arrive. The small group assembled in Tom Rose’s office, and Sophie had a few minutes to try and calm the distraught girl.

  She needn’t have worried. As soon as her mother appeared at the door, Nadia flung herself into her arms and the two women stood hugging each other and sobbing. Then Nadia introduced Sophie to her mother, Gabriela, who embraced the detective. She was a short, dark, stocky woman, unlike Nadia, who was slim with fair hair.

  Gabriela said, ‘Thank you from the depths of my heart for rescuing my daughter.’

  Mother and daughter sat next to each other, holding hands. The single sentence Gabriela had spoken proved to be the only English she knew, so Mary Porter translated as Nadia described her ordeal to her mother.

  They then discussed Nadia’s future plans. Her mother wanted her to go home.

  ‘Mother, I want to stay and help the police,’ Nadia said. ‘I want to help find the others. I feel so sorry for Sorina. She is only sixteen. She was crying all the time. I must help them search for her. And the doctor here has been so good. The nurse sees me every morning and says I am recovering well. I would not get such good treatment back home. I have made friends with the chief inspector’s daughter. But most of all, I owe it to the chief inspector. She is the best person I have ever met. I must help her find the men who did this. Can you understand?’

  Sophie said, ‘If you can remain for a few days, Gabriela, we can find somewhere for you both to stay. I can put you under police protection so that you have someone with you all the time. Nadia is an important witness. We really want her here to help identify the men who abducted and assaulted her, once we find them. I’ve been in touch with your own police in Romania, and someone is coming over to visit. They will want to know how Nadia was tricked into coming to England, so that they can look for the gang members still in Romania. I hope that you can stay until then.’

  ‘Please, mother,’ said Nadia. ‘It would be like a holiday for us. I really want to stay and it would be perfect if you could be with me for a few days.’

  Gabriela agreed. They then talked about how the gang operated in Romania. Gabriela talked about how she had been misled. She had thought it too good an opportunity for her daughter to miss, and had encouraged Nadia to take the trip to Britain. Her eyes flashed angrily as she described the men. When they finished, Sophie called in to see Silver, who was still in the incident room. He was able to arrange safe accommodation for Nadia and her mother.

  * * *

  Sophie drove Gabriela and Nadia to the pathology unit at Dorchester for the identification, along with Mary Porter. Sophie always hated this task, especially when the victim was young. The bewildered look in the eyes of the identifiers, a life lost, potential unrealised, just the absolute waste of it all. Stefan was the son of Gabriela’s older sister. She told them that she’d watched him grow up, had looked after him during her sister’s later pregnancies, and had taken him on picnics and outings. And here he was, pale and lifeless, laid out on the cold surface in the mortuary’s small viewing room.

  ‘How am I going to tell my sister?’ Gabriela whispered.

  Sophie had no answer.

  * * *

  Sophie left Nadia, her mother and Mary Porter with one of the assistants while she went in search of Benny Goodall. He was waiting for her in the main theatre. For once, neither of them had any small talk.

  ‘This is what you need to see, Sophie.’ He handed her a theatre mask.

  He took her arm and steered her across to a table where a skeleton was laid out under bright lights. He angled one of the lights to illuminate the ribcage, and leant across.

  ‘Look at these nicks on the ribs. Do you see them? This body has fifteen in total. Up here at the top of the thoracic vertebrae there are another three similar marks. There are also signs of similar nicks at the front of the skull, near the nasal cavity.’

  ‘What does it mean, Benny? What could have been happening to cause marks like these?’

  ‘I’ve only seen such marks once, many years ago when I was still a junior. They were on the body of an old tramp who’d been slashed to death by a group of drunken teenagers. But I’ve seen photos and I spent time yesterday checking some reference works. I think it’s probable that this poor woman was tortured. They used a knife to inflict a succession of cuts, stabs and slashes. She was losing more and more blood as time went on and more wounds were inflicted. The marks on the front of the skull could indicate that she had her nostrils sliced. I shouldn’t hazard a guess, not in my position, but the marks on the top vertebrae are consistent with having her throat cut, probably as the final wound.’

  ‘And the other body?’

  ‘Very similar. In all likelihood they were tortured to death using sharp knives. And there’s something else,’ said Goodall.

  ‘You sound as if the something else is even worse. What could be worse than this, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Two of the bodies show similar nicks on the front edge of vertebrae in the sacral and lower lumbar area. They might have had a knife pushed up inside them.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I don’t know what else could have caused the marks, really I don’t. It’s just appalling.’

  ‘I don’t know what to make of it all, Benny. Why, for God’s sake? Why do this? What else have you got to tell me?’

  ‘The autopsy references I checked against were from the States. The bodies were victims of some murders in California where young homeless women were killed on camera. Snuff movies, isn’t that what they’re called?’

  Sophie was silent for several minutes, looking at the two bodies. She took hold of the pathologist’s elbow.

  ‘I need to go, Benny. But can I get a coffee first? I need something to calm me down.’

  ‘I’ll join you. I really wasn’t looking forward to telling you this.’

  ‘Do you know if forensics have managed to get DNA samples yet? A Romanian police officer is due sometime this week. I’d like to keep him informed about progress in identifying these poor girls.’

  ‘We’ve sent off samples. I don’t know when the results are due. If I find out I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Thanks, Benny. This is so awful. I just can’t take it all in.’

  S
ophie was silent as they drove to Wareham, and the safe house set aside for Nadia and her mother. Once they had arrived, she told the two women that they were not to leave the house. They could not risk being seen if any gang members happened to be about. She promised to bring Jade over to visit Nadia as often as she could.

  As they parted, Nadia flung her arms around Sophie.

  ‘I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. I wonder if I should change my plans and become a police officer like you. You are such a good person.’

  Sophie smiled at her. She said nothing about the anguish gnawing away at her own heart.

  * * *

  Back in Swanage, Sophie said goodbye to Mary Porter, who agreed to return at short notice if she was required.

  ‘Maybe we can remain friends?’ Mary said.

  ‘Yes, I’d like that. It’s difficult for me to think about anything other than the investigation at the moment, but once it’s over we could meet up. Maybe an evening out?’

  ‘You’re on. Leave it with me.’ She gave Sophie a peck on the cheek.

  Sophie was only left to her thoughts for a few minutes before Jimmy Melsom interrupted her.

  ‘We’ve had a bit of a curious report come in, ma’am,’ he said. ‘It’s from an old resident of Studland.’

  ‘Do you mean old as in elderly or old as in long-standing, Jimmy?’

  ‘Both. He’s in his seventies, I think, and has lived in the village since the year dot. He said that something like that first body happened once before. Up on top of the Agglestone, I mean. But it wasn’t a person. He says that about twenty-five years ago they found the body of a cat up there, then a dog. The cat had been strangled. The dog had its throat cut. Do you think it’s worth following up?’

  She pondered this for a while.

  ‘Yes. Go across and get the details, but I want them corroborated by someone else. See if he can think of another local who’s also likely to remember it. If it’s all just hot air, which is more than likely, then cut it short and get back here. It’s only useful if it can give us a name. We can’t afford to waste any time on wild goose chases.’

  * * *

  Sophie was speaking to Barry Marsh. ‘Any luck?’ she said.

  ‘No. There’s nothing else on a Richard Frimwell, and no mention of anyone with the nickname Blossom. They’ve either been very lucky or very careful.’

  ‘Probably both. But that assumes they do exist and are our men. I can’t believe there’s nothing more known about them. I hope we’re not barking up the wrong tree. The problem is, those two are the only real lead we’ve got at present. We really need some kind of break. Will you keep plugging away at those farm rentals for the time being?’

  Marsh sensed desperation in Sophie’s tone, but said nothing. Things were not that bad, surely? It was only a few days since they’d discovered the bodies in the field, and they’d picked up on several possible leads. Any one of those could yield the vital piece of information that would set the case rolling. She’d appeared strained right from the start of this enquiry, almost brittle. He wondered if there was more to the discovery of her grandparents than she was letting on. At times he’d seen her sitting at her desk with her head in her hands, looking as if she was about to collapse under a weight of worries. He suspected that these concerns might not be linked to the case, and were due to something entirely different. But what? Surely, finding her grandparents would be a cause for celebration, not extreme tension? One thing was certain, she would not take kindly to any questions. He’d keep quiet for the moment and hope things didn’t get worse.

  He wondered if Bob Thompson in Bournemouth would have any contacts that might provide a clue about this Blossom character. A photofit image would be something, since there didn’t seem to be anything on file. He phoned through to headquarters.

  * * *

  Lydia Pillay was fresh to the case. The previous week she had been away on a course on ‘Modern Trends in Intimidation.’ Violent crime had become more subtle in recent years. Despite the general perception, levels of violence had decreased, but there were some worrying trends. Intimidation and bullying were becoming more overt, particularly when coupled with antisocial behaviour. Pillay was expected to share her new knowledge with colleagues. But it would have to wait for this case to be closed first. She was reading through the dossier when she had an idea. She walked across to Marsh.

  ‘Barry, if a boat’s been used then shouldn’t we be checking with other boat owners? Surely someone must have noticed if a small cruiser or whatever has been going in and out?’

  ‘We contacted the harbour authorities and have asked them for their records. But Nadia’s boat came in at night, when there was a mist. If they always chose those kinds of conditions, then the chances of being spotted would have been minimal. But I take your point. We should check to see if anyone’s spotted suspicious movements. Come up with a plan, check it with me and we’ll put it to the boss. By the way, you probably know her better than the rest of us. Does she seem okay to you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Marsh chewed his pen. ‘It’s hard to explain. But she seems anxious at times. Not so much when we’re involved with the case, but I’ve caught her a couple of times sitting with her head in her hands. I’ve backed out before she’s seen me. I wondered if you’d spotted it too, or if it’s just my imagination.’

  ‘Yes, I have. I don’t know what to make of it either. Let’s just keep our eye on her, sir. Maybe something’s happening that we don’t know about.’

  ‘Okay. But tell me if you find out anything, won’t you? Meanwhile, we just keep on crosschecking. Jimmy and I are still ploughing through the property booking records. The farmhouse ones all seem to come from forwarding or non-existent addresses, but I’m still hopeful they might yield a clue. But you know me. I always live in hope.’

  ‘Where is Jimmy, by the way?’ Pillay asked.

  ‘He’s off to Studland to follow up a report from a resident.’

  * * *

  Jimmy Melsom was sipping tea from a bone china cup. The saucer, which was equally ornate, did not match the cup. The cup across the other side of the table, in front of the elderly man he was interviewing, matched Melsom’s saucer.

  ‘It must have been a good thirty years ago. Mebbe longer. But it were the cruelty, you see? It were wicked.’

  ‘So why do you think it’s linked to our present case, Mr Potts?’

  ‘The first one were a young kitten. Strangled, if I remember right. Nothing else, but it were thrown up onto the rock. It were my workmate, Harry, that found it. Well, it were actually a little lass who’d climbed up the rock, but Harry was walking his dog nearby. He heard her scream like, and he went across. Her family were having a picnic under the rock. Holidaymakers. Harry brought the body of the kitten back and I remember the vet saying it had been strangled. Anyways, a couple of weeks later it were a puppy’s body up there, with its throat cut and its tongue missing. And that’s what made me phone you lot up. ‘Cause I heard, on the quiet like, that that lad’s body had its tongue missing. Is that right?’

  ‘I can’t confirm or deny it, Mr Potts. We don’t release details about a suspicious death, for obvious reasons. Are there any more details? Like who found the dog’s body?’

  ‘Well, that were me. I kept my eye on that rock after the cat were found. Thought it might be black magic or sommat. But we didn’t find anything else afterwards, like. But what I can tell you is that there was a camp at the back of the village at the time. You know, Scouts or Boys’ Brigade or sommat. And when they went, it stopped.’

  ‘But there were only the two incidents?’

  ‘From what I know, aye. And I get to know most of what goes on around the village. Not that I’m a nosey bugger, don’t think that.’

  ‘Right, Mr Potts. We need to try and get an accurate date for this. It’s not going to be easy, is it?’

  The old man shook his head glumly.

  Chapter 15: The Kitte
n and the Puppy

  Monday Afternoon, Week 2

  ‘It’s a good lead, Jimmy.’

  ‘I can’t see it, ma’am. He hasn’t a clue which year it was, so I don’t see how we can make any progress on it.’

  They were sitting in Sophie’s office. Jimmy Melsom’s features wore a hangdog expression.

  ‘In the account you’ve just given me there’s one official person mentioned. Think about it.’

  She watched. Melsom’s face didn’t alter.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am. I must be particularly thick today. I still can’t see it.’

  ‘The vet, Jimmy. Your Mr Potts told you that the dead kitten was taken to the vet. Now let’s assume the same for the dog, though it may not be necessary. Vets would keep records, wouldn’t they? So get onto the practice that’s nearest to the village and go through their records for summers around the years he’s thinking about. Then find out the name of his pal who found the cat. See him and try and get a date out of him. And use the reminder trick on both of them. You know, was there a wedding anniversary or some special occasion the same year? Was something else going on at the same time? Could the camp have been there for a special event? If we can get two corroborative dates, it will be worth following up. Just keep probing, Jimmy. All you need is to find something that tickles their memories. But go for the vet angle first. You might even find someone who was on duty, like a nurse or receptionist who might remember.’

  ‘Thanks, ma’am. I just couldn’t see it.’

  ‘That’s my job, Jimmy. You’ll learn with experience.’

  Melsom was back with Ray Potts in less than half an hour. This time he made better progress. The elderly man had been thinking, and had decided that the incidents had probably occurred sometime in the late eighties or early nineties. Melsom obtained the address of his ex-workmate, Harry Mowbray, and that of the vets’ practice where the dead animals had been taken.