Snow Kills

by RC Bridgestock

  The solicitor stood, held out his cold, chubby hand and introduced himself. ‘Marshall Richmond,’ he said. The skin over his face was taut and he had an aggressive stare. Richmond sat down with his head thrust forward on its short truculent, neck.

  After the mandatory introductions for tape followed by the caution, Dylan made a start.

  ‘Earlier today you were arrested for the abduction and murder of nineteen year old Kayleigh Harwood,’ he said, solemnly.

  ‘No comment,’ said Barrowclough, staring straight ahead, his hands clasped tightly together.

  ‘Since your arrest, we have discovered the naked body of a girl in a freezer in your garage, would you like to explain that?’

  ‘No comment’ he said, seemingly unmoved, but Dylan caught him taking a sly glance towards his solicitor, who remained stony faced.

  ‘We will be able to positively identify the body in due course. Is it Kayleigh Harwood?’

  ‘No comment,’ Barrowclough said, his eyes cold.

  ‘If I may intervene, my client has requested that on his behalf I make the following statement at this time,’ he said. Richmond’s face remained wooden as he put on glasses taken from his breast pocket and picked up a sheet of paper from the table in front of him. ‘I have not abducted or murdered anyone. However, I do own up to concealment of a body on behalf of a friend, who informed me that the person had died accidentally. I realise now that this was a totally stupid thing to do. I realise that I have been naïve and acted insanely.’

  ‘Okay,’ Dylan said. ‘Now would you care to enlarge upon that statement for me, Mr Barrowclough?’

  ‘No comment,’ he said remaining outwardly calm, cool and collected – although Dylan had a feeling behind that cold exterior, white fat was boiling inside.

  ‘Are you going to name your friend and tell us when this took place?’

  ‘My client has named his friend as a Mr Norris Regan. He called upon Mr Barrowclough in January, on the night of the heavy snow fall when he was out working.’

  ‘I think your client, Mr er…’

  ‘Richmond.’

  ‘Mr Richmond. I think your client is more than capable of answering for himself, don’t you?’ Dylan said.

  ‘After this morning’s events, as you can well imagine he is still in a state of shock – and like I said I have taken instruction from him to speak on his behalf, Detective...?’

  ‘Detective Inspector Dylan,’ he said. ‘Well, to give your client more time to come to terms with his situation, we will terminate the interview for now,’ Dylan added with a half smile. ‘But we would like your client’s consent to a medical examination and to provide us with the necessary samples.’

  Mr Richmond looked at his client and Barrowclough nodded.

  ‘He can go back to the cell,’ Dylan said not taking his eyes off the monster of a man before him. Barrowclough struggled to get to his feet and slowly walked towards the door of the interview room.

  ‘Mr Richmond, a word please,’ Dylan said.

  Dylan told the solicitor about the other human bones found at Barrowclough’s property, and he could see that Mr Richmond was taken by surprise. He wiped his large roman nose with a pristine handkerchief from his pocket.

  ‘I will make myself available for what will no doubt be quite a few more interviews then, Detective Inspector,’ he said.

  ‘Well, put it this way, I wouldn’t plan anything for the near future, Mr Richmond,’ Dylan said, leaving him in the cell area.

  A short break and he and Vicky would be going into interview with Norris Regan.

  ‘Do you want a brew, boss?’ shouted Vicky as she rushed ahead of him down the corridor towards the CID office. He nodded.

  Dylan was stood with his back to the filing cabinet in his office, reading, when she walked in with two steaming mugs in her hand.

  ‘Pilsbury Dough wasn’t up for saying much, was he?’ Vicky said.

  ‘Pilsbury Dough?’

  ‘Barrowclough. Rolls of fat? Dough?’

  Dylan rolled his eyes. ‘Not for the moment, but he was quick enough to come up with a reason for the body being there,’ he said, taking the drink from her.

  ‘Yeah, a fucking crap one,’ she said, sitting down on the corner of his desk.

  ‘True. If we give him enough rope, he’ll hang himself,’ he said wafting the papers in front of her. ‘They always do.’

  Dylan was outside the big grey fire door of the interview room again thirty minutes later. He put his hand on the handle, felt in his pocket for his phone, looked at the screen and switched it off. He turned the door knob and pushed the heavy door open to allow himself and Vicky to enter. Yvonne Best was sitting with her client Norris Regan beside her. Dylan checked that Regan was feeling well enough to continue before they began.

  ‘I think it is only right to inform you that, since you have been in custody, Paul Barrowclough has been arrested and his home and outbuildings have been searched. In a concealed chest freezer we discovered the naked body of a female which we believe is Kayleigh Harwood. Formal identification will take place later today. We have at this stage only had a brief interview with Mr Barrowclough and he tells us that he hid the body for a friend, naming you as that person. He says he was told by you that she had died by accident. Is he telling us the truth?’

  Dylan had Regan’s full attention. He was silent as tears ran unchecked down his face.

  ‘He’s lying,’ he said. ‘She came to my house. I lied to you. She did sit on my settee. Barrowclough had been working on the Manchester Road that night and he came into the house after I left her sleeping on my settee. He went into the front room. When I heard the commotion that followed, I came downstairs to find him on top of her. Her clothes were hung off her and he was knelt across her, shouting at me to have a go. I was excited,’ he said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes, you raped her?’

  Regan nodded. ‘For the purpose of the tape, Mr Norris Regan is nodding in the affirmative,’ said Vicky.

  ‘His hands were around her neck. She was trying to scream. He told me to shove her coit in her mouth to stop her making a noise.’

  Dylan raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I panicked. The next thing I know her clothes were off. She’d gone quiet. He told me to fetch him a drink.’

  ‘Alcohol? He was drunk?’ said Vicky.

  ‘No, tea. He wanted a cup of tea. He said she’d seen us, we couldn’t let her go.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He told me to put my hands over her mouth and nose and he knelt across her neck. Her head flopped to one side...’ Tears were rolling down his cheeks unchecked. Yvonne Best sniffled into a tissue that she pulled from the sleeve of her cardigan.

  ‘Then what?’ Dylan said.

  ‘He said he would get rid of her. No one was out to see and nobody would ever know. He took her and her clothes away but I found one of her boots in the house and her coit so I called him. He came and took them away.’

  ‘So you killed her?’

  ‘No. I didn’t kill her, he did.’

  ‘But you tried. You’ve admitted to us that you were the one who stuffed her coat in her mouth, then put your hands over her airways so she couldn’t breathe. She was strangled, suffocated. You may have broken the poor girl’s neck. You both killed her.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted her to be quiet.’

  ‘So what you’re telling us is, this version of events is the truth and the other stuff, lies?’ said Dylan.

  ‘On my mother’s life, that’s what happened that night.’

  ‘You obviously have no morals whatsoever have you Mr Regan? You’re lying again.’ Vicky spoke for the first time.

  Norris Regan looked shocked. ‘No, this time I really, I swear I am telling you the truth.’

  ‘Then why did you ring Barrowclough that night?’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t. The phone was dead, I told you.’

  ‘Not at your ho
use. Your phone was not dead. Not unless you unplugged the phone, because we have proof that you made a call from your telephone that night. Barrowclough’s number was written on the wallpaper next to the telephone in your house. You called him because you had a young girl in your house and you fancied the look of her. You wanted his help, didn’t you?’ Vicky said.

  ‘No, that’s not true.’

  ‘The truth is you weren’t strong enough alone were you? The books, the magazines, the photos and even the leg irons weren’t enough any more, were they? How did you get her to your house, Norris? Did you drag her there?’ Vicky continued.

  ‘She came of her own free will, to use the toilet. To get warm.’

  ‘Into your trap, then you terrified her, viciously raped her and when you were done, you killed her. You were nothing more than animals toying with their prey, were you?’

  ‘No! I had sex with her. I admit that. But I didn’t kill her. She enjoyed it.’

  ‘What?’ Vicky said, shaking her head in total disbelief, ‘She told you that, did she? She actually said she’d enjoyed having sex with you?’

  Dylan looked anxiously in his partner’s direction. Her eyes were slightly glazed.

  ‘Since your arrest, you’ve done nothing but lie to us about Kayleigh Harwood, who was tragically stuck in the severe weather on White Wednesday outside your home. When, and only when, we could prove it, did you come clean to us that you had seen her that night, been to her car and offered her a drink. Then when, and only when, we could prove it did you admit that she had been in your house to use the toilet. Again, only when we can prove beyond doubt, did you confess that she had indeed been in the lounge. When asked if you knew a man called Paul Barrowclough, you told us you didn’t. Then when we verify you do, you admit it. Now we have found a body and Mr Barrowclough is accusing you of her death. Now you decide to tell us what you say is the truth?’ Dylan leaned forward and didn’t move his stony eyes from the man’s face. ‘What do you want to lie to me about now Norris?’

  Regan leaned back in his seat as far as he could. The men’s hackles were up. It reminded Vicky of a cock fight. ‘I’ve told you I had consensual sex with her and I tried to keep her quiet.’ Regan said quietly.

  ‘Is there anything else you wish to say?’ said Dylan with an air of finality.

  ‘Sorry?’ Regan said.

  Dylan wanted to rip the evil, twisted man apart, but somehow he controlled his emotions.

  ‘There will be further interviews in the not too distant future about other matters.’

  ‘There will?’ said Yvonne Best.

  ‘There have been more human remains discovered at Barrowclough’s address.’ he said coldly and clinically. ‘I am now going to conclude this interview – and Norris Regan, you will be taken back to your cell.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Dylan asked Yvonne Best as they stood in the corridor afterwards.

  ‘Thank you. Yes, I’m fine now but I have to admit that for a minute I got drawn into all the sadness and fear for that poor girl. What must she have gone through that night?’

  ‘It’s understandable. Are you sure I can’t get you a cup of tea or a drink of water?’

  ‘No, no really, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Don’t fuss. By the sound of it, you suspect this might not be their first murder?’

  ‘Sadly not, but once I have more information and the confirmation of some tests we’re running I’ll let you know.’

  ‘In the meantime then, I’ll see if there is anything else he wants to tell me now,’ said Mrs Best.

  Dylan and Vicky left the cells.

  ‘That poor kid, she must have thought she was safe from the freezing cold weather by going to his house. It doesn’t bear thinking about what she went through, does it?’

  ‘And the frightening thing is it’s looking more than likely that she wasn’t their first victim.’

  ‘Quick cuppa to keep your strength up before we go to the mortuary, and then we’ll go to see Kim Harwood and Matt Prentice eh? You sure you’re okay to carry on?’

  ‘Most definitely boss. I want to make sure we absolutely nail this fucking pair.’

  Dylan smiled. ‘There is one thing I must do though before I do anything else,’ Dylan said picking up the phone. Vicky nodded.

  ‘Dawn, is that you? Can I ask you a huge favour,’ he said.

  ‘Oh no. Most definitely not...’ she said.

  ‘But, I’ve a post mortem to go into,’ he exclaimed.

  ‘And the body isn’t going anywhere Jack, Jen and Maisy are.’

  ‘But the Home Office Pathologist isn’t going to wait ’til I take my wife and daughter to the train station, now is he? Please? I have no one else to ask.’

  ‘You should do this.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. I never wanted this to happen.’

  ‘Okay. But don’t blame me when this ludicrous idea of sending Jen away blows up in your bloody face.’

  ‘I won’t. Jen will understand, you’ll see,’ he said, breathing a big sigh of relief.

  Chapter 39

  Mortuaries are places most people wish to avoid, but Dylan couldn’t, it was a big part of the investigation process. As SIO, he had to see and know first-hand the extent of the victim’s injuries, how they were caused and, most importantly, the cause of death. The same old smell greeted him – a mixture of stagnant water, damp, mouldy room and a butcher’s shop, combined with a refuse tip. It seemed to be absorbed in the dull white tiled walls. He knew the odour would remain on the clothes he was wearing until they were dry-cleaned. Putting a hand in his pocket, he pulled out his packet of extra strong mints. ‘Here, take one, they always work for me,’ he said to Vicky.

  Now dressed in a green overall and plastic apron, they were joined by Stewart Viney from SOCO and the night Detective, who had been called in early for his shift to be exhibits officer at the mortuary.

  Daniel Jones, the Home Office pathologist, had arrived and Dylan outlined the disappearance of Kayleigh Harwood to him. He went on to explain the discovery of the female body, the circumstances and the fact that he believed it to be Kayleigh, but that formal identification was to follow the post mortem. He also told him of the two arrests and the recent interview with Norris Regan and briefly what he said had taken place.

  Daniel Jones started the examination. He was a strong, athletic young man with a steadfast hand and although he was quick with his examinations, he was very thorough. Dylan was impressed.

  He spoke into his hand-held recorder as he surveyed the body laid out before him. ‘Initial visual check of the body is that of a female, around twenty years. She is well preserved, due to being kept in an electric chest freezer, which is where she was apparently found.’

  The running commentary went on as he took relevant tapings, internal swabs and asked for close-up photographs by SOCO where necessary. Once he had completed the external examination, he prepared to remove the skull cap. The surgical saw whirred. The skull’s crack could only be likened to taking the top off a boiled egg. He examined the skull and the brain before opening the chest cavity and examining her internal organs. The examination lasted for two and a half hours. Dylan was grateful for Daniel’s swift hand and expert eye.

  Once over, Daniel took them into the mortuary office and sat with them over a hot drink to talk through his findings. ‘As you are aware, she has bite marks to her breasts which I had photographed. These, I am confident, were inflicted some considerable time after her death. You will need teeth impressions from your suspects. She also has bruising to her arms and legs which appear to suggest she has been pinned down or held against her will. I removed some strands of material from the inside of her throat. There has obviously been a tremendous effort to stop her breathing with some type of material. There is bruising around her nose and mouth where intense pressure has been applied. The petechial haemorrhaging in her eyes means she was possibly strangled. Petechia occurs when the pressure in the brain causes the blood vesse
ls to burst, and this is why her eyes appeared bloodshot and were bulging. The bruising around her neck is also consistent with strangulation. I think that she was probably rendered unconscious through strangulation at the same time of suffocation, there is also a fracture to her neck. This was a really vicious and sustained assault, in my opinion. The strangulation is the cause of death, and I think that the pressure over her mouth and nose simply delayed the last bit of oxygen leaving her lungs. However the pressure was such that, independently, either would have proved fatal.’

  ‘This was more than someone trying to stop her screaming or shouting, then?’ said Dylan.

  ‘Most certainly, whoever did this to her were out to kill her in my opinion. By the way, I’ve taken swabs as you are aware from her vagina, anus and mouth. I think looking at the bruising that someone has had sex with the body since her death which may also explain the bite marks I mentioned earlier to her breasts.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for your thoroughness,’ Dylan said.

  From what the Pathologist had just told them, he knew when it went to trial at the Crown Court the defence barristers would each blame the other perpetrator for causing Kayleigh’s death. Now Dylan needed to prove that it was a case of joint enterprise, used in murder cases where more than one defendant is involved, intent on carrying out a common purpose.

  Jen stood on the platform, her suitcase at her feet. ‘No, no, don’t wait with us, I understand,’ she said to Dawn. ‘Of course you must get back to relieve Ralph of Violet before the restaurant opens.’

  ‘It’s the damn job, love. Dylan’s under a lot of pressure right now,’ Dawn smiled at her friend, feeling her pain.