‘No. Once the light’s out, I’m asleep. I don’t wake up until the radio comes on at seven o’clock for the news. Mind you, these days I don’t know why I bother – only puts me in a bad mood before I’ve even started the bloody day.’
‘All right, Mr Godmanstone.’ Gavin snapped shut his notebook and forced a smile as he held out a business card. ‘Thanks for your time. If you could––’
The door slammed shut.
Gavin sighed, and pushed the card through the letterbox, then turned to Laura.
The detective constable covered her mouth with her hand, but couldn’t hide the creases at the corner of her eyes.
‘Not a word, Hanway,’ he said over his shoulder as he pushed through the garden gate. ‘Not a bloody word.’
A woman stood on the doorstep of the house next door, grinning as they rounded the corner of the low privet hedge that separated her home from Godmanstone’s property.
‘He’s a delight, isn’t he?’ she said without rancour. ‘I don’t know why he keeps the geese – he’s enough to scare anyone.’
‘It takes all sorts, Ms––’
‘Mrs.’ She held out her hand. ‘Beverley Winton.’
Gavin made the introductions, noticing the splodges of white paint that covered the woman’s fingers, and then jerked his chin towards the properties to their right. ‘And you own these as well, I understand?’
‘That’s right. We’re doing up this one at the moment, and then that’ll be available as well. Did you want to come in?’
‘If we could, thanks.’
‘Sorry about the mess. Don’t trip over the dust sheets – I’ve been painting the stair balustrades this morning. I don’t know how paint manufacturers get away with putting “only one coat” on the tin. That’s the third lot on there, and I’m still not happy with it.’
She opened a door into a cluttered living room. Curtains billowed at open windows, and Gavin ran his gaze over the packing cases stacked against one wall.
‘We just have a few questions,’ he said. ‘We’re investigating the death of a man who was found in one of the outer fields to Maitland’s farm this morning. We wondered if you’d noticed any suspicious activities in the area over the past week?’
The woman paled. ‘A dead man? No – I haven’t noticed anyone new around here. The lane is pretty quiet once anyone living along here has gone to work. It’s the same in the evening. Do you think we’re in danger?’
‘We’re inclined to believe this is an isolated incident, Mrs Winton,’ said Laura. ‘Have you noticed anything that might be considered unusual for this time of year? Or any thefts from your garden shed, for example?’
‘My husband, Peter, hasn’t mentioned anything. He keeps the shed locked anyway, just through habit after we lived in town for so many years. We haven’t got the same trusting nature that our tenants do.’
‘Or geese,’ said Gavin.
‘No, thank goodness.’ Winton managed a laugh, then her eyes grew serious once more. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. I can ask Peter about it when he gets home, if you like?’
‘That would be much appreciated, Mrs Winton,’ said Gavin, and handed her a business card. ‘Even if you think it might not be significant, it’s best to let us know.’
Chapter Five
Kay looked up from her computer screen as the door to the incident room opened and Detective Chief Inspector Devon Sharp marched across the room, his expression one of consternation.
Several inches taller than Kay, the ex-military policeman kept his grey-flecked brown hair closely cropped and moved with the bearing of one used to a parade ground.
He loosened his tie as he stalked towards his office behind her desk, his attention taken by his mobile phone screen, his brow puckered.
Kay bit her lip as he walked past her, his head still bowed, then gathered up the copies of the photographs she’d collated. Pushing back her chair, she wandered over to the open door of his office, and knocked.
‘Guv? I wondered if you had a minute?’
He glanced up from his phone, momentarily surprised, then blinked. ‘Sorry, Kay – miles away there. Come on in.’
‘Everything all right?’ she said, closing the door behind her and taking the more comfortable of the visitor chairs opposite his desk. She eyed the worn threads on the armrest, and wondered if Headquarters were ever going to provide the DCI with some new furniture.
Probably not.
‘I’ve just spent three hours this morning arguing for an increase to our budget for next year.’
‘Oh. I presume it didn’t go well?’
‘I’d have rather had a root canal.’ His mouth twisted into a sardonic smile as he tossed his mobile onto his desk and sank into his seat. ‘I hear you had a body in a field this morning, over near Sevenoaks?’
‘Actually, I was hoping you could help me.’ Kay provided him with an overview of the morning’s discovery, and then slid the photographs across the desk. ‘Barnes took these while we were chatting with Lucas and Harriet. We wondered if they might have some sort of military significance.’
Sharp reached out for the A4-sized images, and leaned back in his chair as he sifted through them. He paused for several moments on each one, turning the photograph at different angles, and then lowered them to his desk and frowned.
‘It reminds me of the sort of tattoos some soldiers would get after completing a tour of duty,’ he said. ‘Sort of a reminder, as a way to prove they’d survived intact. What’s the age of the victim?’
‘I gave Lucas a call an hour ago to see what he thought, now that he has the body at the morgue. He said he won’t be able to narrow it down properly until after the post mortem tomorrow morning, but estimates the man’s age to be between early forties and late fifties.’
Sharp ran his hand over his chin, and picked up another photograph. ‘That age group would place our victim anywhere from the Falklands conflict if he’s in his late fifties, right the way through to the Afghanistan campaigns of recent years.’
‘That’s a lot of people, guv.’
‘I know. I’m not familiar with this particular artwork, though. There’s nothing on this that says to me it’s one particular regiment or another.’
‘What about the writing underneath? Does that ring any bells?’
‘Looks like some sort of an abbreviated code. If he was Special Forces or something like that, it might relate to his unit. You know they work in four-man teams?’
‘Yes. So, you’re saying it might be limited to a small group, rather than have a wider regimental bearing?’
‘Exactly. And you say there was nothing else to identify him?’
‘No, not by way of clothing or piercings anyway. Lucas has sent off the loose teeth that were all over the ground to a specialist orthodontist. I’m hoping she might be able to glean some more information from those for us.’
‘It’s going to be bloody hard if they weren’t in situ,’ said Sharp. ‘Unless the dentistry suggests he had work done while he was overseas.’
‘Do you think we’re onto something with this tattoo being something to do with the army, then?’
‘I think it’s worth following up, yes.’ He pulled a notebook from his pocket and scribbled across a fresh page before pointing the end of the pen at the images. ‘Can I have those?’
‘Of course.’
‘Okay, what I’ll do is make some phone calls, speak to some of the contacts I have that have either retired or are still serving. What else is your lot doing?’
‘Gavin and Laura are out helping with the house-to-house enquiries around Maitland’s farm. Barnes is currently going through the ANPR reports with Debbie West to see if any of those raise any flags. We’re concentrating on vehicles owned by anyone with previous convictions for assault and that sort of thing who might have been in the area.’ Kay pushed back her chair and stretched. ‘Carys has started working through the property searches for a wider radius around the farm in case the
re’s anyone we should be talking to with previous convictions as well. There’s no-one within the current house-to-house parameters that appear in the system.’
‘Sounds like it’s all under control,’ said Sharp, and rested his elbows on the desk. ‘How’s our new recruit settling in?’
‘Laura? Really well, actually. It’s going to be interesting to see how she balances this investigation alongside her exams, but I’ve tasked Gavin with mentoring her. Given that he was in the same situation a couple of years ago, hopefully she’ll learn from him.’
‘Good. All right, keep me posted.’
Chapter Six
Kay hunkered into the thick collar of her woollen coat and checked over her shoulder before crossing Palace Avenue.
Her low heels wobbled on the uneven surface of the pedestrianised lane leading towards the High Street, and, as her calf muscles tightened with the incline of Gabriel’s Hill, she concentrated on taking deep breaths to help ease out the stress from the past few hours.
A freshness pinched the air around her, as if winter wasn’t yet ready to release its grip from the county, while her breath escaped her lips in a fine mist.
She let her mind wander as she gazed into the shop windows she passed.
On her left, the charity bookshop had changed its display to one focusing on local guides, no doubt hoping that some early season tourists would take advantage of the chance to learn more about the county town and contribute to a good cause at the same time.
She smiled, partially thankful that the door was locked and the sign had been turned in the window to read “closed”, otherwise she would have been tempted to browse the paperbacks that lined the shelves.
Adam, her veterinary other half, would have a heart attack if she bought more books. The shelves in their living room were already bowing with the weight of their combined reading passions – not to mention the hefty technical tomes he kept for work.
An old nightclub remained shuttered, and the place appeared forlorn as she walked past its bare concrete steps.
Her mouth twisted at memories of policing the street as a young uniformed constable in the months prior to starting her training as a detective. The lane might be clear at the moment, but at the weekend it would only be a matter of a few hours before the pavements were covered in empty kebab trays, takeaway burger wrappers, and worse.
Midweek, however, the town was quieter, more sedate, and a little less confrontational.
When she reached the top of the lane, she turned left into Jubilee Square and hurried across the road towards the alleyway known as Market Buildings.
She loved the shortcut through to Earl Street – boutique clothing shops and artisan cafés jostled for space alongside vape shops and pubs, with the latter the only one doing business this time of night.
Adam had booked the table for seven – despite it only being midweek, there was a play on at the small theatre further up the street, and they both knew how busy the local eateries could get after a performance as both audience and actors alike poured into pubs and restaurants up and down the street.
She passed a dark-green sandwich board on the pavement at the door to the eatery as a waft of cooking aromas wrapped themselves around her.
The maître d’ smiled as he took her coat and hung it on a rack behind the reception counter. ‘Good to see you. Your other half is already here.’
‘Has he been waiting long?’
He shook his head, and gestured towards the tables set out in a room off to the left of the main door. ‘He arrived about fifteen minutes ago. I’ve got a bottle of Australian Verdelho on its way to the table for you. Nicely chilled.’
Kay stopped in her tracks. ‘Really? How’d you get hold of that? We can’t find it anywhere.’
He winked. ‘It’s a secret. The boss would kill me if I told you.’
She laughed as they reached the table.
Adam rose from his seat, kissed her cheek and waited while the maître d’ settled her into her chair. As the man walked away to another table, he reached out for her hand and ran his thumb across her fingers.
‘You look gorgeous.’
‘I’m wearing my work clothes.’
‘They’re better than mine, which are currently soaking in a bucket of hot water at home.’
‘Oh, no – what was it this time?’
‘Don’t ask. Hopefully the stains will come out.’
She laughed, and then spotted a waiter crossing the room towards them. She quickly ran her eyes down the menu Adam handed to her, and placed her order.
As the man headed off to the kitchen, she emitted a contented sigh.
‘This was a good idea.’
‘I figured if you had a new case, I wouldn’t see much of you over the next few weeks, so I’d get you alone while I can.’
‘That’s probably not a bad idea. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be an easy one.’
‘Grim?’
‘Very – and unusual.’ She gave him the briefest of explanations, not wishing to put him off his dinner and mindful of the confidential nature of her work. ‘We get the post mortem results sometime tomorrow with any luck. Hopefully that will help.’
‘Best make the most of tonight, then.’
Their starters arrived; a mixture of olives, bread and dips on a share plate that was placed between them. After their wineglasses were refilled, the waiter wished them a pleasant meal and retreated to the bar.
Kay shredded a slice of bread between her fingers and dipped it into a ramekin of balsamic vinegar. ‘We haven’t been out properly for ages. Haven’t you got a waif or stray waiting at home to be cared for?’
‘Not this week – unless you want two very friendly Vietnamese potbellied pigs in your kitchen.’
‘Er, no thanks.’
‘Didn’t think so. Don’t worry – they’re happily taking advantage of one of our pens at the surgery. If you need a break from the office, you should drop by and see them.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Things might change next week, though – just to warn you. We got a call from a wildlife rescue place at Thurnham this afternoon. They’ve received a few calls about a litter of fox cubs that were seen out on the Pilgrim’s Way looking worse for wear. If they haven’t got anyone to take them in for a few days once they’ve been captured and given a clean bill of health, I might work from home and do that. I can keep up with the feeding routine in between finishing a paper I have to submit before the end of the month.’
‘Fox cubs? Christ, don’t tell Carys – she’ll move in.’
As she wiped the last of the crumbs from her fingers, the waiter came to remove the plates, and minutes later their main courses arrived.
Kay eyed her steak with relish as accompaniments were brought to the table, a large bowl brimming with steamed vegetables and a dish laden with new potatoes that shone with a buttered polish.
She waited until Adam began to cut through the tender meat of the spatchcock he’d ordered, and leaned closer. ‘This is the part I hate about investigations. Waiting, and wondering where we might get the breakthrough.’
‘It’s still the golden hour, isn’t it?’
She wrinkled her nose.
Adam was right, the first few hours of any major crime investigation were the most important, but not always the most fruitful.
‘The problem,’ she said, lowering her voice as the woman from the next table sidled past and sat, ‘is that we don’t know when he got there. We don’t know how long he was lying out there. It could’ve been any time between last Tuesday and this morning.’
‘I know a few smallholding owners north of that area. If you get stuck, I can put you in touch with them. The smaller property owners tend to look out for each other, especially when it comes to equipment theft or anything like that. They might be able to help.’
‘Thanks. Hang on for the time being – I’ll let you know if we get to that point.’
‘Okay. I’ll keep my ears open w
hen I’m out and about on my rounds in the meantime.’ He pointed at her steak with his fork. ‘Now, eat. I can hear your stomach rumbling from here.’
Chapter Seven
‘Good morning, detectives.’
Lucas Anderson peered over his shoulder as Kay and Carys shuffled through the double doors into the examination room, their protective coveralls rustling in the air-conditioned stillness.
The home office pathologist’s place of work at Derwent Valley Hospital was a cramped space tucked away on the first floor behind the pharmacy and the radiological department. Despite this he and Simon Winter, his assistant, somehow managed to cope with post mortems requested both through the hospital and by the Kent County coroner.
Kay had never got used to the smell.
As much as she tried, the stench of death would cling to her nostrils, her clothes, and her skin for at least twenty-four hours afterwards. She wasn’t sure whether it was her imagination or scientific fact but talking to her colleagues from time to time, all of them agreed.
Kay didn’t know how Lucas coped, but she was glad that he did. So often, her investigation could hinge on the information the pathologist gleaned from the unfortunate souls that found themselves in his company.
‘Started without us, Lucas?’ said Carys, drawing nearer to the aluminium table. ‘Jesus.’
Kay chuckled as her colleague reared backwards at the last minute, bringing the back of her hand close to her mouth.
‘I told you it wouldn’t be pretty.’
‘Even so, guv.’ The detective constable blinked, and then turned back to the body laid out before them. ‘Poor bastard.’
‘Indeed,’ said Lucas. He gestured to the twenty-something lanky mortuary assistant who hovered in the background, his gloved hands carrying two aluminium bowls with indeterminate contents. He nodded to the two detectives and then turned his attention to a collection of instruments and equipment on a counter that ran the length of the back wall. ‘Simon and I made a start half an hour ago, so you’ve missed the worst of it.’
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