Rachel turned to Jonny. “I want to know who owns that site, also what was there previously. Elwyn and I will attend the PM. We’ll all meet later this morning and share our findings.”
While the other team members returned to their desks, Elwyn followed Rachel back to her office.
“What time does Butterfield want us?” he asked.
“Not until ten, so there’s time to grab a coffee first. What d’you think?” She posed in a short leather jacket. “It was Meggy’s but she doesn’t wear it anymore. Too young?” She twirled around to show it off.
“No. With those jeans, it looks good. You’re looking a lot better these days,” he said. “Less stressed, you know, after . . .”
“The debacle with McAteer?” She said for him and shrugged. “It’s okay, Elwyn, I don’t mind if you talk about it. Whether I like it or not, he’s a fact of life, well, mine anyhow.” She pulled a face.
He smiled a little sheepishly. “I don’t like bringing it up, but it’s been a couple of months now and you haven’t mentioned him once.”
“That’s because it’s an emotionally tricky subject.” But she wasn’t about to bore Elwyn with the details. “How’s Marie?”
“Selling the house and happy to share the proceeds.” He smiled. “Which means I can look at properties to buy. And it can’t come soon enough, believe me. Life at my sister’s has definitely lost its gloss.”
Rachel and Elwyn had worked together for a long time and were close. Elwyn was the only member of Rachel’s team who knew the truth about her and Jed McAteer. She never discussed personal issues with the others. Elwyn knew that she and McAteer had been an item in their teens and had seen each other periodically since. In the usual scheme of things this wouldn’t have been a problem, but McAteer had once been a notorious villain. In recent times he’d become a property developer, enjoying a certain measure of success. He appeared to be trying hard to bury his past and reinvent himself, which was very laudable of course, but nevertheless Rachel did not want her name linked with his. Hence the secrecy. Elwyn also knew that McAteer was the biological father of Rachel’s youngest daughter, Mia. As far as Rachel was concerned, that was one particular secret that must never come out.
The two of them made their way out of the building and down to the car park, where no one could overhear their conversation. “I think Alan’s suspicious. Mia reckons he’s being off with her.” She threw Elwyn the keys to her car. “I don’t know how, but I think he’s found out that she’s not his biological daughter. But whatever he thinks, Elwyn, I swear that if he takes it out on that girl, I’ll have his guts!”
“No one knows, so how can he be?”
“You’re forgetting something. Jed McAteer wants to be part of Mia’s life. After all, he is her father. I wouldn’t put it past him to make trouble just to spite me, and to suit his own ends.”
Chapter Three
Rachel averted her eyes from the body lying on the slab. She hated the morgue. Everything about it gave her the shivers. Being an only child, when her parents had died in a car crash it had been down to Rachel to identify the bodies. No matter how many times she came here, and it was often enough given her job, it never got any better.
“I’d say she’s in her forties,” Butterfield began. “There’s some bruising to the face and upper body, not a vicious beating, more the result of fighting off her attacker.” He took hold of the right hand. “There is bruising to her knuckles where she attempted to fight back. This here on her face is interesting.” Butterfield indicated the place. “The bruising to the cheekbone suggests she was punched in the face, see? There’s a cut just here.”
“Any idea of what caused it?” Rachel asked.
“A ring on her attacker’s finger would do it.”
“If I found a suspect wearing a ring, could you match it?”
At that moment, Dr Judith Glover entered the room dressed in a white coverall. She was tall, of ample build and with short, no-nonsense grey hair. Jude didn’t fuss over her appearance. She was a woman dedicated to her job, and her looks were unimportant as far as she was concerned.
Jude examined the wound. “We can certainly try for DNA. It’s a deep cut. It bled, so traces will have been transferred to the ring. But don’t leave it too long.”
“Anything else, Jude?” asked Rachel.
“We didn’t find the bullet in the trench, so I’m presuming it’s still embedded in her brain. Once I have it, I should be able to tell you the type of gun they used.”
Rachel nodded. “Beaten, and then shot through the head. So it’s definitely murder.”
“He wasn’t kind, your killer,” Butterfield said. “He’s one sicko I wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night.” He continued with his external examination of the body. “There’s no evidence of sexual assault.”
“That’s something at least. The clothes she was found in — will they help identify her?” Rachel asked.
“A simple navy skirt and shirt. If I had to guess, I’d say she was dressed for work. You can get clothes like that cheaply at any high street shop. I am curious about the lack of shoes though. We’ve found no sign of any so far,” Jude said.
“Are we quite finished?” Butterfield said impatiently.
They watched as he examined her nose and throat.
“There is sand in the throat. She did not die immediately after being shot. However, she will only have lived for minutes, possibly seconds. The head wound was catastrophic.”
They watched him take up a scalpel and make the customary incisions. “Non-smoker, evidence of minimal coronary artery disease.” He removed the stomach. “Her last meal — nothing substantial, just the remains of an apple and chocolate.”
“A busy woman with little time to eat properly,” Elwyn said. “We miss meals all the time, and I often have a bar of chocolate in my pocket.”
“Did your team find any of her belongings?” Rachel asked Jude. Butterfield’s examination, though necessary, had told them very little about this woman.
Jude shook her head. “We’ve yet to examine her clothing, and my team are back at the site this morning, but nothing so far.”
Butterfield looked up. “This might help you. She has a kidney missing. It’s a neat job. She may have had a problem but the wound and her general state of health suggest she was a donor. Since she was a live donor, it’s probable that a close relative was the recipient.”
“When was this done?” asked Rachel.
“Within the last twelve months, I’d say.”
It was a good place to start. They had a photo. If the transplant was done locally, it would have been at the Manchester Royal Infirmary.
“We’ll do the usual tests, see if she was drugged or on medication,” Jude said.
“An ordinary woman, no doubt living an ordinary life, and caring enough to give a loved one a kidney. Who did she cross to end up like this?” Rachel looked at Jude. “Anything and everything you can give me. I want to catch the bastard who did this.”
“The second body will be more of a problem,” Jude said. “We’ve determined very little so far. She’s female, with long blonde hair and varnished finger and toenails. The decomposition will make establishing date of death difficult, but we’ll do our best. Her clothes are interesting — a skirt and top made from a vivid red silky fabric. Perhaps she was on a night out when she met her untimely end.”
“Any idea how long she’d been there?” Rachel asked.
“It’s difficult to estimate, but I’d say two months, give or take,” Jude said. “She wasn’t buried particularly deep, the soil was simply piled on top of her body. The worms and other insects have had a field day, I’m afraid.”
“Do you have any idea of her age?” Elwyn asked.
“The wisdom teeth hadn’t erupted, so she was in her teens.”
“PM on her?” Rachel asked.
“Tomorrow,” Butterfield said. “I’m at a conference this afternoon.”
“Meanwhile, I’ll
take samples and start my tests,” added Jude.
“Do you know how she died?” asked Elwyn.
“Not for sure, but like our friend there,” she nodded at the body on the table, “she has a suspicious hole in her skull, possibly from a bullet.”
“Same method, then. I wonder if there’s a link,” Rachel said.
Jude shrugged. “Difficult to know. Once the PM and tests are done, you’ll have a more complete picture.”
To Rachel’s relief, she and Elwyn were able to leave the mortuary.
“Two bodies, Elwyn,” she said. “There has to be a link. They were found in the same spot, for goodness sake.”
“You think it’s someone’s preferred dumping ground?”
“I don’t know what to think. We’ll take another look at the site later.”
Chapter Four
By the time Rachel and Elwyn returned to the station, it was way past lunchtime. After pinning a photo of the murdered woman to the incident board, Rachel gathered the team for a briefing.
“Last night’s victim tried to fight off her attacker. She has bruising to her hands and face, plus an impressive cut to her cheekbone, possibly from a ring. She was taken to that site and shot through the head. There is no doubt this was cold-blooded murder.”
“Not a fight after a night out at the pub that ended badly, then,” Jonny Farrell remarked.
“No, Jonny, the killer knew exactly what he was doing. But we do have something to go on. Our victim may have been a kidney donor. Jonny, contact the MRI and ask for the names of anyone who has had a transplant during the last year. There can’t have been many with a live donor.”
“And if they get all ‘data protection’ on me?”
“Then get a warrant first!” Rachel retorted. Really, sometimes the rules made no sense. “That’ll take time, so impress on them that this is a murder enquiry, and as yet we haven’t identified the victim.”
“The building site, ma’am. It’s owned by McAteer Developments.” Jonny said.
Rachel saw the smirk and bristled. He couldn’t know. How could he? Only Elwyn knew her secret, and she trusted him absolutely. Had there been rumours after the Brough case? Had Jonny re-read the case file and put two and two together? One smart comment and she’d have the DC for dinner!
“They’re putting up a hundred affordable houses. I spoke to the project manager in their head office. The work has a tight budget and needs to run to time. Apparently there are penalties for each day handover is delayed.”
“Are they aware of what’s happened?” she asked indignantly.
“A member of the management team, a Liam Russell, is going down there this afternoon. He wasn’t happy. Given that profit is pared to a minimum, he’d like this wrapping up swiftly.”
She snorted. “My heart bleeds. These people, honestly, they’ve no idea. I want to know when this bloke turns up. I’ll take a ride over and speak to him myself.”
She turned to Amy, who was gazing intently at her mobile. “Any luck with the CCTV, DC Metcalfe?”
Amy glanced up with a surprised look on her face. “Sorry, ma’am. Just checking something.”
Making arrangements for this evening more like. “Well? The CCTV?”
“The footage has been tampered with, ma’am. There’s nothing from last night.”
“What? Tampered with? Bollocks!” Rachel was furious. “Have you spoken to the site manager? I assume it’s his responsibility?”
“He swears he has no idea how it happened. He went on about their system being hacked.”
“Hacked, my . . .” Hands on her hips, Rachel shook her head. “It was deliberate, and I want action. Find out how that system works, and if periodic backups are taken. Who has access, you know the stuff. I want everyone who has visited that site during the last week interviewed — staff, delivery people, the lot.”
“The site manager is keen to keep the killings quiet,” Amy said. He’s afraid that if word gets round, the houses won’t sell.”
Now Rachel was blazing. She looked down at the floor, tapping her toe. Patience, girl . . . She let the words run through her head. Finally, she faced the team. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t give a damn whether those houses sell or not. We have a job to do. See her?” She pointed at the photo of the victim. “Look at her face. Read the file, and see what was done to her. The trail is still hot, so we have a small window of opportunity. I need you giving this your complete attention and working at full tilt. We hit a blank wall, we find a way around it. Think, for God’s sake! Use your initiative and let’s catch this bastard!”
Rachel strode into her office, slamming the door behind her. She’d overreacted. It was the mention of that name. The second the word McAteer escaped Jonny’s lips, she’d seen red. It wasn’t the DC’s fault, but still, Rachel had seen that smirk. What did Jonny know?
Elwyn stood opened the door. “Judith Glover has just rung in. She’s down at the site and reckons we should join her.”
“Okay, it’s high on the ‘to do’ list anyway. You and me’ll go.”
“What’s got into you?” he said. “That was over the top.”
Rachel shook her head. “Sorry. It’s him, Jed. He’s back and causing trouble all over again. Will I never be free of that man?”
Elwyn closed the door behind him. “No, you won’t, and you know perfectly well why. Whether you like it or not, he’s part of your life now.”
“Why does he have to be involved in every single case I touch these days? He haunts my life — at work and at home — like a bloody curse.”
“Have you seen him since—?”
“No! And neither has Mia.”
“Does she know the truth?”
Rachel stared at him. “No, she bloody doesn’t. I haven’t said anything, and he hasn’t contacted her.” She grabbed her jacket and pushed her mobile into one of the pockets. “I don’t want her to know. I’m not ready for the harsh truth yet, and I doubt she is either.”
“Jed McAteer is her father, Rachel. She has every right to know the truth.”
“She’s fourteen!” Rachel retaliated. “Telling her now would destroy her world. She loves Alan. As far as she’s concerned, he’s her dad. Apart from which, McAteer’s a bloody crook. If he wasn’t, we might have made a go of things years ago.”
“He’s not a crook now though, is he?” Elwyn said. “In fact, he’s your archetypal Mister Respectable. Flourishing business, commands respect in his field. You could do worse.”
Rachel took a breath. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. “You’re not suggesting that I get back together with him? For heaven’s sake, Elwyn! He has a past. And, believe me, it’ll raise its ugly head sooner or later. The man’s a jailbird, he might even be a killer for all I know. And he knows some really dodgy people. I daren’t risk my career over some teenage crush.”
“He’s more than that though, isn’t he? You’re still in love with him.”
Of all the people Rachel knew, Elwyn was the only one who could get away with saying that. “Elwyn Price, if I had a handbag, I’d bloody well hit you with it!”
* * *
When they arrived at the site, Jude’s team were hard at it, scraping and sifting the soil at the place where they’d found the two bodies.
“Don’t step on that patch!” Jude shouted to them. “We think that’s where the vehicle that brought last night’s victim parked up. We’ve still to do casts of the tyre tracks and the footprints.”
Fair enough. Rachel stared down at the hotchpotch of indentations on the muddy ground. How could anyone make sense of them?
“See this?” Jude pointed. “The van stops here and he pulls our victim from the back of the vehicle. He yanks her out by the arms, and her feet land here. The deeper indentations are where they hit the muddy ground.”
Elwyn nodded. So far, so good.
“Then he drags her along to the trench.”
Now she could picture it. Jude’s description of even
ts, complete with actions, made sense of the random marks on the ground.
“What about blood?” Rachel asked.
Jude smiled. “Now you have it. Last night I postulated that the victim was killed here. This makes me think I’m right. There is no blood along the tracks but plenty once we get to the trench.” Jude moved a little nearer to where the body had been found. “She was shot about here and fell sideways into the trench.” She pointed at the spot. “And that’s where we find all the blood.”
“Did she struggle?” Rachel asked.
“I’m checking that, but I suspect she was drugged and still only semi-conscious on arrival.”
Elwyn nodded. “There’s a car pulling up. This could be our person from McAteer’s.”
“Tell him to wait over there. We don’t want him contaminating the scene,” Rachel said.
“I’m planning to get some imaging equipment and see if there are any more surprises lurking in the ground,” Jude said.
“Do that. Take as long as you need.” Rachel looked around. Seen in daylight, it was a relatively small area. “How in hell’s name do they expect to squeeze a hundred homes into this pocket handkerchief?”
“There won’t be room to swing a cat, will there? But that’s what they’re all like nowadays. Profit rules, Rachel,” Jude shook her head. “Look where we are, a spit away from central Manchester. They won’t want to delay either. That site manager has been wittering on about the holdup all morning.”
“Stuff their bloody profits. Finding our murderer comes first.”
Rachel marched off to meet the man from McAteer’s.
“Are you in charge?” she demanded.
He was tall, wore a business suit and clutched a new-looking briefcase. He gave Rachel a nervous smile and stuck out his hand.
“Liam Russell,” he said.
He was softly spoken, and so obviously ill at ease that Rachel wondered how he got on with Jed. Jed McAteer usually went for go-getters. This one must have something going for him. Perhaps he was the acceptable face of the enterprise. After all, Jed had a reputation, and people have long memories.
“DCI Rachel King.” She shook his hand. “There’s still work to be done here. How much is anybody’s guess. We have two bodies, and there may well be more. Until scenes-of-crime have finished their search, this site if off-limits, I’m afraid.”
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