by Liz Mistry
Besides which, Daniel Farrier’s wouldn’t be the only body buried and forgotten on Saddleworth Moor… so why did the idea of what he had to do leave him nauseous?
12
15:30 Bradford Mortuary
Gus’ dad had fast tracked the post mortem and slotted it in between that of a rough sleeper found under a bush in Undercliffe Cemetery and a drunk who’d fallen asleep under his car in the Old Bull pub carpark in Silsden. The Beast from the East was racking up its victims. Seeing Izzie Dimou spread out on his dad’s slab was almost too much for Gus, so for once he opted to watch from behind the glass screen. This meant he was spared the dead body smells, enabling him to dispense with the Vicks under his nose.
However, he couldn’t avoid the sight of blood and it was the blood that he really hated. The viewing room was sterile and it too had the formaldehyde smell he’d long associated with this environment. It was all white and bright. Gus could feel a headache prickling behind his eyes. There were blue plastic chairs dotted round the wall, but Gus chose to stand. Not because he wanted a bird’s eye view – he really didn’t – but out of respect. It was his thing. No matter how much these post-mortems affected him physically, at least he was alive and he owed it to the victims to get justice.
It had been a long day, and he still hadn’t spoken to Compo about Alice. Now he had this to investigate as well as hold his team together. Periodically, he’d been on the phone to Gabriella and was getting grief from her because they still hadn’t located Daniel. As if it was his damn fault if her brother had disappeared off the face of the earth in the middle of a damn snow storm. He’d got uniformed officers on the ground looking for him and interviewing his neighbours in Saltaire where Daniel was living – but so far, no joy. This bloody weather was making it difficult to conduct a proper investigation, especially with half their staff deployed in weather–related incidents. If Daniel’s absence continued for much longer, his status would rise from ‘person of interest’ to ‘suspect’ and he didn’t think that would go down too well with Gabriella. At least he didn’t need to deal with her face to face for she and Katie were stranded in Dublin till the storm cleared.
Dr McGuire started his examination, talking into the microphone that linked up to the viewing room. Taffy, suited and booted with a mask covering his face, had elected to join Dr McGuire in the autopsy room. The bloodied coat that had been Izzie’s only covering had been bagged in the hope that some forensic evidence remained. This could be fruitful in linking a suspect to the crime at a later date.
She looked frailer than Gus remembered. Maybe death did that to you. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the metal trolley, her eyes closed and her skin pale as Dr McGuire measured the length, depth and position of each stab wound. Now that the blood had been wiped away, the extent of her injuries were clear. Her face, torso and limbs were badly bruised and ligature marks round her wrists showed that she’d been restrained.
‘Thirty-five stab wounds.’ Dr McGuire glanced up at Gus and continued. ‘The longest is eight centimetres, the shortest only a half centimetre. Some with serrated edges, some not. Their depth varies from one to eight centimetres, except the one to the heart. That was nine centimetres deep and certainly killed her.’ He sighed and moved round the table, ‘We’ve sent samples from under her nails to the lab – see what it turns up, eh?’ Gus had seen worse – much worse. Yet, when it was someone you’d had a conversation with, laughed with, seen as a three-dimensional being, it hurt more. What the hell had led to Izzie Dimou being tortured so viciously? If he hadn’t come across the darker side of human nature, Gus would have sworn that Daniel Farrier was incapable of such an act. However, he’d seen many things during his career and he was all too aware of how low some people could plummet. He couldn’t dismiss him from the equation, especially not with his notable absence.
The thing was, Gus had no idea about Daniel and Izzie’s life in Cyprus, beyond that they both worked in a University in the north of the Island. Izzie, he thought, worked in some science-based area and Daniel was in the archaeology department. Gus had visited Northern Cyprus a few years back with Gabriella and Daniel had taken them on a tour of various ruins. If Gus, remembered rightly, Daniel’s bugbear was that there was little funding to preserve the various Roman monuments. Although it seemed that some European money had found its way into the pot more recently. At that time, Daniel had been single, so he and Gabriella hadn’t met Izzie.
Moving to the bottom of the trolley, Dr McGuire lifted one of Izzie’s feet and angled it so Gus could see the sole. ‘These are slashes, rather than stab wounds. I think our torturer used a variety of weapons, Angus. I’ve counted, in addition to the stab sites, ten puncture wounds that resemble the size and shape of a meat prodder.’
Gus nodded to let his dad know he’d understood. No doubt Izzie’s killer was a sadist. Did he carry a bag of tools with him? Gus leaned in and pulled the microphone closer to his lips, ‘Any indication of how many perpetrators?’
His dad shrugged his huge shoulders. ‘Perhaps only one, possibly two. Some of the more superficial stab wounds look hesitant. However, that could merely be our killer trying to extend the torture.’
‘What about the cigarette burns?’
Taffy interjected, ‘I’ve counted at least twenty of those too, Gus.’
Gus’ dad nodded, his eyes twinkling, ‘Good lad, Taffy. I’ll count and mark them in a bit, but definitely in double figures. As well as that she’s been beaten. I’ve got a couple of footprints here, which I’ll photograph and send to the lab, but whoever did this also used their fists.’
‘I presume she was killed elsewhere?’ From his position, Gus could tell that lividity indicated she’d been moved.
‘Yes, looks like she was killed and left for a while in a sitting position, before being moved. He lifted her slightly and pointed to a red stripe down one side of her back with a cross section stretching across at the small of her back and again about six inches higher. Some sort of dining chair I’d reckon.’
‘Any forensics?’
‘I’ll bag up anything I find, Angus. Now, away ye go. I’m fine here wi’ the laddie. Go catch Izzie’s killer.’
All during the post mortem, Gus’ phone had been vibrating in his pocket. Gabriella! And now as he left the hospital, intent on getting some exercise in by walking down to The Fort, it vibrated again. There was no way he could ignore it, so he answered, mentally preparing himself for a high-speed conversation on his way back to work. Gabriella was a pain, but right now she had every right to be.
13
18:00 The Fort
The photo of Izzie Dimou that they’d pinned on the crime board was the only one they had access to. It didn’t help that it was taken from her and Daniel’s wedding invitation. The self-same image hung on Gus’ fridge at home. After failing to make contact with Daniel, Gus had spent the better part of the afternoon talking, first to Gabriella, then to Katie. All flights to and from the northern airports were cancelled until further notice. Neither could shed any light on where Izzie had been prior to her missed flight to Dublin. She’d always been going to fly from Manchester because she had some meeting or other there, whereas Katie and Gabriella had chosen to fly from Leeds Bradford. Gabriella thought that Daniel was also supposed to be at the Manchester meeting but couldn’t be certain. So, basically – a whole load of uncertainty.
Instead of heading straight back to The Fort, Gus had walked through Heaton Woods and on to Alice’s house in Saltaire. Alice had given him the keys and when Daniel and Izzie had turned up, Gus had lent them the property. CSI’s and uniformed officers were still there – but no trace of Daniel. Nor was there any evidence of an obvious crime scene, so it appeared Izzie had been killed elsewhere.
There was no indication of Daniel’s whereabouts. The absence of any signs of a struggle cheered Gus a little. However, he couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room. No matter how unlikely he thought it, their number one suspect – until otherwise proven
– had to be his brother-in-law. So, the sooner they found him, the better. Gus had photographs of Daniel distributed, hopefully they’d get lucky and find him soon. Mind you, in this weather it was difficult to do anything. They’d concluded that Izzie had been tortured elsewhere and dumped at the railway station. Evidence was sparse and the weather had made it almost impossible. Still, Sid and his team had done their best. Gus could only hope that the post-mortem might throw up a lead.
His first job when he’d got back to The Fort was to pay his road tax and get the buggers to release his car. No way was he relying on Alice’s Mini in these conditions and the pool cars weren’t much better. Now that he had his Land Rover back, he could tackle most weather. In the meantime, the team were trying to trace Izzie’s movements for the past couple of days, starting with CCTV footage from Bradford Interchange and Manchester Victoria train stations, to see if she’d commuted between the two. All he knew about her really, was what he’d gleaned in the two meetings they’d had, and – to be honest – he hadn’t made much of an effort. Pissed off at having been guilt-tripped into being the best man, he’d allowed the conversation to flow around him and nurtured his annoyance in a silent rebellion.
He did know though that she was a Greek Cypriot living on the Turkish side of the island and that she and Daniel had met at the university. She seemed to be involved in some biochemistry research. He was waiting for a call back from the Turkish Cypriot authorities to see what information they had on Izzie Dimou. It may have been some sort of random attack, but the torture made that seem less likely. No, Gus was almost certain she’d been targeted and he needed to know a hell of a lot more about his ex-brother-in-law’s fiancée than he knew right now.
Truth was, Gus didn’t know much about Daniel. Despite him being Gabriella’s brother, he’d rarely seen him when he and Gabriella were married. Gabriella wasn’t going to be happy, but the lives of her now dead sister-in-law to be and her brother were going to be scrutinised under a microscope. They needed all the clues they could get right now.
Contemplating the limited information available to him, Gus was interrupted by the door swinging open and DCI Mickey Swanson entering. He hadn’t seen Mickey since before Christmas when they’d raided a biker gang lair on Ilkley Moor and he was pleased to see her. He was even more pleased when she revealed the reason for her visit and explained about the level crossing crash the previous day and added that she’d just emailed him a link to all the CCTV footage she’d secured after. It seemed they had a lead on Izzie Dimou after all.
‘Too much of a coincidence for my missing girl and your murdered one not to be connected.’ She looked at the crime board and her face grim nodded, ‘Yep that’s the girl I found on the footage.’ Pulling another chair up beside Gus, she continued, ‘Now we’ve got the added problem of DCI Hawes to contend with too.’ And she explained Hawes’ behaviour at the crime scene.
Gus had heard of Hawes and suspected that Mickey was right that he would want to muscle in. Well, he’d be damn lucky. This was his case and he and his team would be the ones working it. He didn’t think there was a terrorist link and would argue his corner. He dismissed the nagging thought that Nancy might try to take the case from him when she heard about his personal links to both the victim and the main suspect. He’d deal with that bridge when he came to it.
‘And you’re sure Izzie is the girl from the train wreck?’
Mickey glanced at the photo again and nodded. ‘Four of the other passengers confirmed it.’
Gus got the footage up on his PC and Mickey talked him through it. ‘That’s her leaving the station concourse in Manchester. The bloke with her is the guy in the photo – fiancé?’
Despite the grainy image, Gus recognised him immediately, ‘Yep, Daniel Farrier – he’s AWOL. We’ve got a BOLO out for him, but no joy so far.’ He didn’t think Mickey needed to know his relation to Daniel. It was strange watching Daniel and Izzie leave the station with the knowledge at the back of his mind that she’d been murdered only a few hours later and Daniel was missing. They hugged and went their separate ways, with Izzie heading towards the Printworks. Gus called Compo over. ‘We’ve got a sighting of Daniel Farrier in Manchester on Friday, can you follow up on that?’
Compo lumbered over, headphones in, head bopping to some rhythm or other. With a quick smile to Mickey, he scribbled down the time and camera details and went back to his workstation to do his magic, whilst Mickey continued. ‘Managed to trace her to a company called Rubeus Pharmaceuticals near the Printworks in Manchester. Footage has her entering the building at three minutes past eight and picks her up leaving at seven minutes past nine, when she walked back to Victoria Station.’
Gus frowned. ‘What the hell was she doing there?’
‘Uniform phoned. Apparently, she had an appointment with a Jordan Beaumont, one of the chief execs.’
‘Hmm, wonder what business Izzie had with a chief exec at Rubeus Pharmaceuticals?’ Gus watched as Mickey fast-forwarded footage, thinking it made Izzie seem animated. He remembered how she’d looked on the slab in his dad’s mortuary.
Mickey pointed at the screen. ‘Look. This is interesting. D’you see when she comes out she’s like a different person? Looking around her tracing and re-tracing her steps. Look, here she’s on her phone, but still glancing around, like she’s scared or something. Here, she’s on her phone again and still looking round.’
‘Looked like nobody answered or else maybe it was a very short conversation.’
‘Maybe. You had any luck with her phone records?’
Gus snorted. Interactions with phone companies were the bane of his life. ‘Request’s been sent, but it’s the weekend and they like to dick us around a bit. Compo’s on it.’
Mickey turned back to the screen. ‘What’s really interesting is that if you watch the footage often enough you notice these two characters.’ She paused the footage and zoomed in, first on a rugged looking man with unfashionably long hair, who walked about ten paces behind Izzie, and then to another man of similar appearance, but of slighter build, who was on the opposite side of the road seemingly keeping pace with her. ‘We tracked these two, near Izzie all the way back to the station.’
Gus watched as Izzie walked towards the station, pausing three times to use her phone, darting glances around her as she did so. ‘I think she clocked them. Look. Her eyes are skimming to each of them.’ So, if the two guys were following Izzie that made her actions in hotfooting it off the wrecked train more understandable. The question was, why the hell would these two follow Izzie Dimou?
‘They weren’t in sight when she made her way to Rubeus Pharmaceuticals?’
‘Nope. Looks like they picked her up as she left.’
Gus and Mickey continued to watch the footage through to when it cut out as Izzie went through the barriers to the platforms. ‘I’ve put in a request for platform CCTV and will forward it to you when it comes through.’
Gus nodded his thanks He suspected the men following Izzie would have tried to follow her onto the platform, but it would be good to have it confirmed. Now they knew Izzie’s movements up to around eleven am on Friday when she left the train wreck. His dad had put time of death at sometime between midnight on Friday evening and six am on Saturday morning. God knew what Izzie had been subjected to in that time. ‘Hey Comps, see if you can tidy up the faces of these two men and get that sent out to uniforms.’
Gus sighed. ‘This weather is making it difficult to conduct an efficient investigation. Ordinarily, I’d head to Manchester but looks like I’ll need to contact this Jordan Beaumont via phone.’
He turned to Compo, who nodded. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m on it like a sonnet’
Gus shook his head, wondering how, at the same time, Compo could be so efficient and yet so gormless.
Compo’s fingers flew over the keys. ‘Here you are.’
Gus took the number, put his phone on speaker and dialled. Jordan Beaumont answered within three rings and Gus introd
uced himself. ‘I’m investigating a murder in Bradford and would like to ask you a few questions about one of your Friday appointments.’
There was a pause. ‘Well, I’m rather busy, couldn’t this wait till normal office hours on Monday?’
Gus hated the affected tones of his put-on upper-middle-class accent which implied, ‘I’m better than you, cos you’re a public servant.’ Gus allowed his displeasure to show in his clipped words. ‘This isn’t optional, Mr Beaumont. A murder investigation trumps your Saturday free time.’
He heard the other man inhale followed by the sound of him speaking to someone away from the phone. ‘Okay, but can we make it quick please, my daughter needs me.’
‘You had an appointment with an Izzie Dimou on Friday morning, could you tell me what it was about?’
Beaumont sighed, ‘Izzie is one of the trust members of a university in Northern Cyprus which receives a research grant from the company. It was a routine meeting because she was in the UK. Nothing formal, just a bit of a catch-up, that’s all. Very informal in fact.’
Gus raised his eyebrows and looked at Mickey, who returned his gaze. Beaumont was putting just a tad too much emphasis on the ‘informal’ element of his and Izzie’s meeting. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, most folk were a bit nervous when being interviewed by a police officer. ‘Is it true to say the meeting was brief?’
‘Well, yes. As I said, it was informal. We didn’t have much to say – just a catch up.’
Something was off here. ‘Bit of a trek from Bradford to Manchester on the day of her hen do just for a brief informal chat, don’t you think?’
‘Well, I don’t know. She said she wanted to touch base, that’s all. Nothing more than that.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘The weather, a couple of mutual acquaintances in Cyprus and such like. I had to cut our meeting short as I had another appointment.’