The Property

by Catriona King

  Annette conceded the point with a smile. “Old and judgey or not, you have to obey the rules, Mary, although I agree that Nicky shouldn’t have taken so much pleasure in enforcing them. If it’s any comfort to you she’s just as strict with her son.”

  The constable rolled her eyes. “Poor kid.”

  Ryan stepped in, before another argument ensued.

  “OK, so if Mary and I get together, she shows me the ropes and maybe we have coffee together a few times, you reckon that’ll be enough to calm Nicky down? If she sees she can’t play us off against each other?”

  Annette nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her as well, and I’ll have a quiet word with the chief.” She glared directly at Mary, so that there was no mistaking the importance of her next words. “But you can never speak to any team member like that again, Constable. You came extremely close to having a complaint raised against you.”

  The D.C. rolled her eyes cheekily. “God, you’re a precious bunch, aren’t you! Me and my friends argue like that all the time and no-one gets huffy.”

  Annette didn’t relent. “That’s as may be, but these are work colleagues not friends, and you’re in an organisation governed by rules, so remember that.”

  Ryan gazed at her, crestfallen. “People don’t make friends on the team?”

  It made Annette realise how literally her words had come across.

  “That’s not what…” She gave a ‘God help me’ sigh. “Look, yes, of course people make friends, but not always with everyone. Some people are closer than others, and no, I’m not going to tell you who likes who and who doesn’t. You’ll need to work that out for yourself. It’s just that we have equal rights, health and safety and lots of other regulations to deal with too.”

  She stopped, suddenly exhausted, and leant back against the counter.

  Ryan could feel her fatigue and thoughtfully switched the kettle on to boil. “I need a coffee. Would anybody else like one?”

  He ended up making three cups while Mary rummaged in the cupboards for some biscuits. After five minutes of recuperating and sipping Annette spoke again.

  “We’ll take another moment to finish up then go back to our desks. Ryan, when you’ve finished your court prep see if Davy needs a hand, will you? Mary and I are already working on some stuff for him. And when you leave this room neither of you say a word to Nicky, and don’t let her wind you up no matter how hard she tries.”

  As they opened the kitchen door and filtered back to their desks, it occurred to Annette that she might as well be back nursing on a paediatric ward.

  ****

  The Building Site. Howard Street.

  Des Marsham gazed at the ASU’s state-of-the-art equipment with envy in his heart, an envy that Commander Theo Sheridan was used to seeing from the technically inclined but equipment poor branches of the public service, and it always made him want to hide his machines protectively in case that envy inspired theft. Things had gone missing before...

  “Lovely kit you have there, Theo.”

  If they’d been in a cartoon the forensic scientist’s mouth would have dripped saliva as he’d said the words.

  Pride made the ASU commander puff out his chest, although there was no logical reason why; he hadn’t invented the machinery and he didn’t own it, but that didn’t mean he still wouldn’t accept the praise. Sheridan stroked the larger of his two machines like a pet.

  “This one’s my ground penetrating radar. It uses high frequency radio waves to generate electromagnetic energy. In concrete it can penetrate down about fifteen metres, but in ice it can be several thousand.”

  The words made Des want to cry.

  Just then a dry voice came from behind the men.

  “All of which would probably be thrilling to someone who cared, but right now it’d be great if we could just get on.”

  Andy Angel wasn’t happy. He’d been looking forward to an afternoon digging further into the files they’d discovered at the archives, when a call from Davy had shattered his dream. Annette had obtained the court orders more quickly than expected so the scientists were starting their survey of the cellar that afternoon, and for some strange reason they needed a copper there to hold their hands. It meant that he’d had to pass his cushy paperwork over to Kyle in favour of an afternoon spent in heavy boots and a hard hat. Add in two nerds drooling over pieces of metal and it was the artistic D.C.I.’s idea of hell.

  Sheridan arched an eyebrow knowingly. “You did an arts degree, didn’t you?”

  Andy bristled defensively. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Des was curious. “What was your degree in, Andy?”

  “French and Greek literature.” He gestured at the radar machine. “So? What? Just because I don’t want to have sex with that thing like you two obviously do, that must make me thick? I’ve just got work to get on with back at the office.”

  “OK, OK, calm down. I was just asking.” The scientist turned back to Sheridan with a small smirk. “We’d better start.”

  The ASU commander gestured at the ground where the young woman had been found, which even though it had been cleared of loose rocks now still looked rough.

  “That’s where they found the bones?”

  Andy answered before Des could, intent on improving his afternoon by taking back control.

  “That’s right. They found a skull, femur, ribcage and vertebral column. Other small bones were found at the city dump where the excavated rubble was taken.”

  Sheridan frowned. “That doesn’t leave much more to find of your girl.”

  Andy was about to agree when Des shook his head.

  “OK, look… There’s something Marc doesn’t want to be general knowledge yet, so you have to promise that you’ll keep this confidential.”

  When he was assured of their silence he dropped his voice confidingly. “We’re still doing tests, but we believe that we could have the remains of two bodies here.”

  Andy gawped at him. “Two murders?” It made interviewing their three a.m. caller even more urgent.

  “Yes, so it means there could be a lot more bones down there. There are two-hundred-and-six in every adult human body. Marc will brief you on it all later, I’m sure, but for now, let’s just see what we can find.” He nodded to the commander. “Over to you.”

  It was Sheridan’s cue to start the GPR and start moving it achingly slowly across the ground. As Des followed each inch of his progress avidly Andy moved outside to perch on the bonnet of his car. He pulled out his phone, connecting to Kyle a minute later via a very grumpy PA.

  “What’s up with Nicky? She nearly bit my head off.”

  Kyle yawned in a way that said life bored him and life in the squad-room even more.

  “Don’t know and don’t care. What do you want?”

  Andy toyed with making him say “Sir”, and then decided that he didn’t have an hour to waste.

  “How’s it going with those files?”

  “I’ve got an interview set up with Jessica Chambers tomorrow morning at her office.”

  “OK, good. And?”

  “The second one looks hopeless. The complainant’s dead and the bloke cited as a witness has emigrated.”

  Andy’s heart sank. “OK, let’s just see Chambers tomorrow then.”

  Kyle agreed with a grunt and went to hang up, but Andy’s instinct and general mistrust of the D.I. made him say, “Hang on.”

  “What?”

  “That other file, the sealed one. You’re leaving it alone.”

  It sounded like an order and got the response that Kyle thought it deserved.

  “What else?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question, Inspector. Leave that sealed case alone.”

  “First, you didn’t ask me a question, and second, I said I would, didn’t I?”

  “No, you didn’t, and I don’t trust you.”

  “Then you won’t trust me no matter what I say, so give it up.”

  It took Andy
a few seconds to follow the logic and by the time he had done Kyle had hung up, leaving him muttering, “I’ll sort you out tomorrow” and other idle threats at dead air, until he noticed that Des was waving him back to the site.

  A few seconds stomping across the rubble made him feel less impotent and even curious as to what the explorers had found. Des wasted no time in demonstrating, jabbing at the metal radar machine excitedly and contaminating his forensically gloved hand.

  “Look, look on the screen! Theo’s found something. There. He thinks that could be a skull.”

  His finger was planted beside a pixellated dark-grey ovoid object showing up against a white background.

  Andy stared at it for a moment and then turned to the ASU commander. “Does bone have a specific colour on this?”

  “It would just show up as having a different density, like that. And there’s a lot more of it dotted around, whatever it is.” Sheridan moved his finger across the image. “There and there. Hang on. I’ll alter the grey-scale so that it shows up as black.”

  Andy considered the image for a moment and asked another question.

  “You’ll have found bodies in the past, both of you, so is that what the radar image normally looks like?”

  Des’ mouth turned down at the edges. “I don’t often get to see radar. And when I have done, the bones I’ve seen are usually buried in mud, so the background material has a different consistency-”

  Sheridan interrupted. “I’ve only encountered one body encased in concrete before, and yes, as far as I can recall that was how it appeared.” He pulled out his phone. “If you give me a moment I can check.”

  They left him to it for a moment and Andy drew the forensic scientist to one side.

  “You really believe there are two bodies?”

  Des nodded glumly. “The CSIs found a fractured hyoid at the dump.”

  Andy’s eyebrows rose. “Strangulation? That sounds unusual for a hit.”

  “Where are you getting ‘hit’ from?”

  “Well… it’s just… concrete overcoats… you know.”

  The scientist gave a small laugh. “Movies have a lot to answer for. Anyway, we can’t know that this was a hit, especially if the second…”

  The sentence tailed off, making Andy curious.

  “What about the second body makes a hit particularly unlikely?”

  Des shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose Marc will tell you at the briefing anyway. The second body was a woman as well, older than the first, and preliminary DNA says they may have been related. We’re re-running it at the-”

  He was cut off by a shout from Sheridan.

  “Come over here, you two.” He was waving his smart-phone in the air and as they approached they saw why. “Take a look at this. I had it emailed over from the ASU.”

  The image they were looking at was almost identical in shading and contrast to the one they’d just obtained from the ground. The commander set the image in context.

  “This was a murder case in sixty-eight of a construction worker who gambled heavily. Someone was chasing him for the money he owed, so they killed him and buried him in the motorway he was working on.” He gave an uncomfortable laugh. “The poor bugger was part of the M1 just outside junction ten until he was found in twenty-eleven.” He tapped the screen to enlarge the image and then pointed with his nail tip. “If you look there, that was his skull. Now compare it to what we’ve just found.”

  There was no dispute. The image was identical to their own. They’d found the second skull.

  Andy sighed.

  “Damn, there’s definitely another body down there. That means we need to dig them out. Can you two devise a way to get the bones out without damaging them?”

  Des nodded so eagerly that Andy knew it was only his respect for the dead that was stopping him from rubbing his hands.

  “We’ll draw up a plan and start digging.”

  “When?”

  “First light, if Theo can supply the crew and cutting equipment.”

  The ASU commander nodded, only moderately enthusiastic, the thrill of their discovery tempered by the idea of having to rise at five a.m.

  “I need to tell the boss. Give me a minute to find him.”

  He phoned Davy this time, bypassing Nicky to avoid an earful of grump.

  “Where’s the chief?”

  The analyst rolled his eyes at the universal lack of charm the team was exhibiting at the moment. Never mind Mary and Nicky kicking off, he’d hardly had a “Hello” or a “Thank-you” all day and he decided that it was time to make that point.

  “Well, good afternoon to you too, D.C.I. Angel. Lovely w...weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

  Andy glanced up at the overcast sky in reflex, before saying, “What? It’s about to bucket down. Enough of the forecasting, where’s the boss?”

  Davy thought a sigh might work where hints hadn’t, so he conjured one up from the depths of his soul. When it elicited a similar response he took the step of last resort and hung up, managing to get to a count of six before his phone rang again.

  “Joey’s Kebab Shop.”

  Andy finally got the hint and had the good grace to be embarrassed.

  “Sorry, Davy. Has everyone been using you like Google today?”

  “Make that all w...week.”

  “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “Consider us even with that sorry. Now, what did you want?”

  “The chief? Is he busy? I need to ask him something.”

  “He’s at High Street, about to start interviewing.”

  “Damn. I’d better get in quick. I’ll see you later.”

  He cut the call and dialled High Street, finding Jack Harris once again engaged in polishing his dark wood custody desk, something that he did at least three times a day. In his opinion a grubby desk gave the public a bad impression, even if a section of that public had actually made it that way with their mucky hands, and worse. The sergeant glanced meaningfully at the imprint of some teeth in one corner, made one particularly raucous Friday night by a man after he’d been told for the fourth time not to spit on the floor. He supposed it could have been worse; the man could have bitten him. It had landed the cannibal with a well deserved night in a cell and caused his custody desk permanent damage, but despite all his pleas to the Chief Constable they hadn’t replaced it yet. Cutbacks. Huh.

  Jack’s thoughts were on just such organisational issues when the phone rang and Andy’s tenor voice came urgently down the line.

  “Jack, it’s Andy Angel. Is the boss there?”

  “He is.”

  “Well, can I speak to him then?”

  “I’m not his secretary. He has a mobile phone.”

  It was on the tip of the D.C.I.’s tongue to snap back, “Why’s everyone being so bloody difficult today?” when he decided he preferred not to be hung up on again, so he told a white lie.

  “I’ve tried it, but it’s off.”

  The response was a loud muttering followed by footsteps that Andy guessed were heading for the staff-room, something that was confirmed a moment later when he heard, “What’s the point of your mobile when you switch it off?”, something that Craig knew wasn’t true but decided to let pass, entering reception to answer his call.

  “Hello, Andy. You need something?”

  “Just thought you’d like an update.”

  He quickly outlined the findings at the site.

  “OK, good. They can start digging, but I’d rather they started tonight if possible.”

  “I’ll check with Sheridan. We need his equipment. What about The Monmouth Consortium? They’ve just bought the place so they’re not going to be happy.”

  “Tough. They’ll already know about the court orders, but give them a courtesy call if you want. Davy should have a name and number, so get that and call me back.”

  The request made Andy roll his eyes, anticipating a repeat of Jimmy’s Kebab’s. Craig hadn’t finished.

  “And a
sk Davy who filled in that cellar, and when. We need an exact date. We’re interviewing the foreman, Kelly, in ten minutes and I’d like to know by then.”

  The sound of the kettle boiling was his cue to go. Liam had nipped out to buy some doughnuts and as his appetite seemed to be returning he wanted one.

  “Call me back in the next ten minutes, Andy.”

  With the order ringing in his ear, the D.C.I. called the senior analyst again, being careful this time to greet him and ask him how his day was going, which earned him the droll response that Davy was “Living the dream.”

  Obtaining both the details of the responsible person at The Monmouth Consortium and a clue to the information that Craig sought, he called him back, this time on his mobile, which was answered by Liam with a muffled, “Hello” that said that the doughnuts were well on their way to their deaths.

  “Is the boss there, Liam?”

  “No, I mugged him and stole his phone.”

  His, “Very funny” fell on thin air and he heard Craig’s voice next.

  “Right. Who filled in the cellar, Andy?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but Davy spoke to the surveyor who acted for The Barr Group in their purchase of the DoE site in oh-seven and he said he’d like to speak to you directly. I’ll follow up on Monmouth now.”

  He rhymed off the surveyor’s number and then said a hurried goodbye, making sure that his own line was engaged on a courtesy call to The Monmouth Consortium just in case Craig phoned him back. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have pressured the surveyor for more detail but he was getting fed up doing everybody’s job.

  Craig had guessed as much when the call was ended so abruptly.

  “The surveyor for the Barrs’ purchase of the site in oh-seven wants to talk to me directly.”

  Liam made a face. “That’s not good.”

  “Or it is because he’s got something interesting to say?” Craig straightened up suddenly, telling his deputy that any mellowness from being coshed with sugar and carbohydrate had just come to an end. “Let’s find out now, because if I don’t get a straight answer soon on when that bloody cellar was filled someone’s head is going to roll.”