“But we digress, as I’m sure Peter Collins would say. What about this wretched recluse round the corner?”
“What does your copper’s nose tell you, guv?”
“It doesn’t seem to be working this morning, but I’m leaning in favour of backing Priya’s instincts. I’ve known her for a while now and I think she’s got good judgement.”
“Me too. She’s good. She knows what she’s doing and she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“OK then. Set it up for this afternoon will you? Whistle up some uniform to break the door down.”
“Who should I send from CID? Apart from Priya I mean? I’ll go if you like. I’ve got nothing else on.”
“By all means go if you’re looking for something to do. Take Karen with you if you like. She was looking pretty bored too when I passed her in the corridor just now. Keep me informed of course. It might be an idea to warn the doctor and SOCO to be standing by as well, just in case you do find anything.”
Metcalfe had cause to regret his keenness when he put his nose out of the door on Downshire Hill to encounter a steady drizzle.
“Oh damn,” he said. “I don’t have an umbrella with me.”
“You can share mine if you like,” Willis invited him as she pushed him out through the door onto the pavement.
“I can’t be seen with that thing,” he replied as she opened it with a quick snap, “it’s pink.”
“Actually it’s magenta, and it matches my stockings.”
“And there was me thinking that was just a coincidence, Sarge,” Desai said innocently.
“Well it’s a girly colour whatever it is,” Metcalfe complained, “and I’m not going under it.”
“Fine, get wet then.”
“You can share mine if you like, guv,” Desai offered. “It’s black – which matches my trousers,” she added.
Metcalfe tried huddling under Desai’s umbrella as bidden, but it was small and anyway he felt ridiculous walking along with his knees bent. So he gave up, and strode on ahead, the rain beginning to soak his hair and jacket in what he hoped would be seen as fine manly fashion.
The two uniform officers were already waiting for them, looking bored and idly swinging the heavy ram which was used routinely on drugs raids.
“Afternoon, sir,” they said as Metcalfe approached, having comfortably out-distanced the two women. “Ready to go are we?”
“Have you knocked?”
“Yes, guv, very loudly three times. No answer. The lady next door put her head out to find out what was going on, but we asked her to go back inside. You can see her peeping out of the window if you look carefully.”
“Oh, never mind about her. OK then, go ahead.”
As the two women walked up the path under their umbrellas the PCs swung the ram back and then forwards between them in a single smooth motion. The door yielded at the first blow, crashing backwards into the wall of the hallway.
“Police! Hello – is anybody there?” one of them shouted through the open doorway.
“You want us to go in, guv?” the other asked Metcalfe.
“No,” he decided. “Let’s find out what we’re dealing with first. Why don’t you go back to the nick? We can call you if we need you.”
They nodded and departed, doubtless in search of a cup of tea in the canteen.
The three detectives stood and looked at each other for a moment. Metcalfe surveyed what he could see from the front door. As Helen Barnes had described, a sea of papers stretched in all directions. The hallway seemed to lead into the kitchen at the back of the house. There was a single door on each side, both closed. He went inside and beckoned them to follow him, which they did, closing their umbrellas as they did so. They moved aside to allow him to close the front door.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s take one room each and try to disturb things as little as possible. Downstairs first.”
“I’ll go in here if you like,” Desai offered, indicating the door to the right.
“OK, Priya, go ahead. Karen why don’t you go through to the kitchen at the end? I’ll take the door on the left.”
He experienced some difficulty in opening the door. As he pushed harder it became apparent that it was being held in place by various old newspapers. He finally succeeded in opening it halfway, and edged around it into the room.
It felt a little like walking into a museum, although perhaps a junk museum. The walls were covered in dark wooden panelling and the room smelled musty, as though it had not been entered for some time. The floor was completely obscured by papers. On them, in one corner two or three old suitcases had been piled up. An old leather Chesterfield and two matching chairs stood isolated like islands surrounded by dusty and yellowing papers. He felt for the light switch and turned it on; it worked.
“Christ, what a mess,” he murmured to himself.
Carefully, so as to disturb the surroundings as little as possible, he waded slowly across the room. When he reached the wall he turned and started back diagonally. He repeated this process two or three times until he had covered the entire room and was satisfied that there was nothing under the papers. It was as he was turning the light off again that he heard Desai’s cry.
“Priya? Are you all right?” he called.
He and Willis reached the doorway to the other room at the same time and peered through it together. Desai was standing in one corner, very still, and with her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to call out like that. I think I’ve found Mr Taylor, guv.”
She pointed downwards, to where something dark could be seen on the floor through the papers. It looked like the body of a man, lying on its side facing away from the door.
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
“Very. I think he’s been dead for some time. Oh, I’m sorry, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Don’t contaminate the room – it could be a crime scene, for God’s sake. Come out quickly. Get her outside, Karen.”
He snatched open the front door once again. Desai just made it onto the pathway from where she was noisily sick into a clump of thistles.
“Hard luck, Priya,” he said as he stood outside and thumbed his mobile phone. “Looks like you were right, but I’m sorry it had to be you that found him.”
While Metcalfe called the doctor, SOCO, and Collison, Willis pulled some tissues out of her bag and Desai took them with a tearful smile. It was still raining and by the time he had finished his calls the two women were once again standing under their umbrellas, Desai looking embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry, guv,” she said again.
“Don’t be,” he said with a smile. “We’ve all done it.”
“So what happens now?” Willis asked.
“Well, as I’ve just explained to the guvnor, all we know at the moment is that Taylor is dead. We don’t know whether it’s suspicious or natural causes. We’ll have to wait for the doctor for that. I suppose we should really have searched the house anyway to find out if that Indian guy is in there too, but I think I’d rather not disturb the scene any more, just in case it does turn out to be suspicious.”
“I agree,” Willis nodded.
The rain was getting harder. Metcalfe’s grey jacket was now almost black with accumulated water.
“Why don’t you two go back to the nick for a bit?” he suggested. “I can give you a ring when it’s OK to go in.”
“No, let me stay, guv. I’m the junior.”
“No thanks, Priya. You go off and get a cup of tea. I want to stay anyway to speak with the doctor and ask SOCO how we should approach the crime scene – if that’s what it is. I’m damned if I know what we’re going to do about all those papers.”
He watched them start to walk back up the road, clutching their umbrellas, and then tried to stand inside the little porch to shelter from the rain. This achieved only limited success, as a wind had got up which was driving the rain directly against the door. S
ince he was already very wet, he simply shrugged and waited.
Brian Williams, the forensic surgeon, was first to arrive.
“Afternoon, Bob. What have you got for me then?”
“Deceased male, whom we believe to be Conrad Taylor, the owner of the house. That’s about it, I’m afraid. I got everybody out into the garden as soon as we realised what we were dealing with.”
“Fair enough. Let’s just hope SOCO don’t take too long to get here. Would you like to share my umbrella?”
The doctor’s umbrella was also colourful, but in a respectable golf club sort of way. It was also very large, and Metcalfe was happy to take shelter under it as Williams fought to control it in the strengthening wind.
About 10 minutes later Tom Bellamy arrived with his assistants. Metcalfe briefed him while everybody climbed into white forensic overalls and then hopped around awkwardly just inside the front door as they slipped the footwear equivalents over their shoes.
Once properly clad, Bellamy entered the room cautiously. Metcalfe noticed that he was treading deliberately in Desai’s footsteps. He squatted and gazed very deliberately at the body.
“Not that there’s any doubt about it,” he called back over his shoulder, “but could you come in please, Doctor to certify life extinct?”
Williams carefully followed in Bellamy’s wake. As he reached the body, Bellamy moved aside and Williams squatted down in his turn. After a moment he glanced at his watch.
“I certify life extinct at 1631,” he said formally.
He stood up and gazed across the room at Metcalfe.
“Obviously I can’t be sure until after the post-mortem, Bob, but I’d say he’s been dead some weeks. Oh, and he appears to have been battered about the head. Looks like you’ve got a murder on your hands, doesn’t it?”
CHAPTER 6
Simon Collison arrived on the scene about 10 minutes later under a black umbrella of impeccable plainness. There was a chorus of ‘afternoon, guv’ as he joined the small group clustered in the front doorway.
“Afternoon, everybody. So Priya was right then, Bob?”
“Yes she was, guv. It was she who found the body as a matter of fact.”
“So, what do we have?”
“A bit of a poser actually. I’m not quite sure what to do so I’m glad you turned up when you did.”
“If I could cut in, sir,” Tom Bellamy said, doing exactly that, “the problem is this. The doctor has certified life extinct. Indeed, it’s pretty obvious that the poor chap has been dead for some time – maybe weeks. And it looks like he’s had his head bashed in. So we know we’re dealing with a crime scene. But do we restrict our procedures just to that one room, or do we take on the whole house? You can see for yourself that would be a mammoth task: just look at all these papers scattered everywhere. They would all have to be collated, marked out on a floor plan, and catalogued. And that’s just for starters. Once we’ve done that we’d need to make a full forensic investigation of every single room in the house. Do you have any idea how long that would take? I’d say a week at least, possibly two.”
“I hear what you say, Tom, but I’m conscious that we may have another body in the house somewhere. We believe that Conrad Taylor – that’s the owner of the house, whom I assume is our victim – was living with an Indian man called Raj. He hasn’t been seen by the neighbours for some time, so I think we have to assume – at least for the time being – that he’s still here somewhere.”
“Yes, guv, so I understand.”
“Well, that being the case, I really don’t see that we have any choice, do we? We’re just going to have to go over the whole house, no matter how long it takes.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, guv. I just want to make it very clear upfront how much work is involved. It’s not going to look pretty on your budget. I’m a few bods short at the moment, so it may mean a lot of overtime.”
“So be it, Tom. I’ll authorise whatever you think you need. When can you start?”
“I’d like to make a start today – right now – but it’s getting very dark outside and the rain is getting worse. If we’re going to start from the front door and work inwards I’d like to get some really good lights rigged up, and that will take time. If you like, I could get it done overnight and we can start first thing tomorrow morning. I can secure the door and seal off the scene until then.”
“Sounds good. Bob, could you ask uniform to arrange to have people here overnight, please? As soon as word spreads we’ll have Joe public trampling all over the garden and trying to look through the windows.”
“Already done, guv.”
“Good man.”
Collison became aware of Dr Williams patiently awaiting his turn to speak.
“Hello, Brian. Good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Simon. I was just hanging around to ask if we could move the body. I’m assuming you’d like the post-mortem report as soon as possible.”
“I do of course, but only if Tom is happy with that; the crime scene is his responsibility. Have you finished with the body, Tom?”
Bellamy pursed his lips and moved his head from side to side indecisively.
“Yes, I suppose so,” he conceded at last. “I’d really prefer to wait until we have the really powerful lights available to take some more photos, but we’ve examined the floor and papers around the body in some detail so I’m not sure what more that would achieve. So yes, Brian, you can have the body. But please make sure your chaps disturb as little as possible.”
“You can make sure yourself,” Williams said briskly as he stepped outside and shook open his umbrella. “I’m off to my lair to make sure everything is ready for our guest when he arrives.”
“Just before you go, Doctor,” Metcalfe said. “Could you just repeat for Mr Collison what you told me?”
“Certainly. Death appears to have been caused by head injuries, apparently as a result of being struck at least once with a heavy blunt object. But obviously I can’t say any more than that until after I’ve conducted the post-mortem.”
As the doctor withdrew, Collison considered the situation. Given that the deceased had been dead for some time, there wasn’t quite the usual urgency about the situation. It was important, he felt, that they should get everything exactly right, even at the expense of spending a little extra time.
“I’ll leave you to it, Tom,” he said, drawing Metcalfe to one side.
“I think we may as well go back to the nick,” he said. “I don’t see that we can do anything more here today. I suspected that might be the case, actually, which is why I didn’t bring Priya and Karen back with me. I think we’d be better occupied setting up the incident room and pulling a team together. There’s Timothy Evans for a start. Let’s grab him. We know he’s good.”
Metcalfe pulled a face.
“Are you sure, guv? He scored a bit of an own goal on the last case, didn’t he?”
Collison was silent for a moment as he spread his umbrella over them both.
“He did, Bob,” he said quietly as they began to walk up the hill, “but he’s young and you have to expect these things. I think he has the makings of a very fine officer, maybe not as much potential as Priya has, but he’ll do OK, and it’s important for us to show that we trust him. Important to show that we’re not going to pillory him for just one mistake.”
“I’ll remember that, guv.”
Collison took a few more steps, wondering if he had said enough.
“You know, Bob, it’s none of my business whatever you’ve written in Timothy’s file, but for my part I mentioned that I thought that it was the girl who made all the running. You can’t really expect a red-blooded young man bursting with hormones to turn down an offer of sex with an attractive young woman, can you?”
Metcalfe smiled.
“Karen said much the same thing,” he admitted. “And don’t worry, guv, I went easy on him too. After all, he had no idea at the time that she was going to tur
n out to be such a material witness.”
“Well, exactly. All right then, he’s on the team. I’ll leave you to pull together whoever else may be available. Don’t look outside our own nick for the moment, not until we’re certain what sort of manpower we need on this.”
They reached the police station and went round to the front door; the side door only opened from the inside these days. As they went up the stairs Metcalfe glanced at his watch and was shocked to see that it was only 4:45. It felt as though several hours had passed. He moved his shoulders uncomfortably as his wet jacket clung to him.
“You’d better get out of that wet jacket,” Collison said as though reading his thoughts. “Ah, Karen. How’s Priya bearing up?”
“She says she’ll be fine, guv, but I think she’s pretty upset actually.”
“That’s entirely understandable. What you think – should we send her home?”
She shook her head.
“I think she’d take that badly. You know Priya. If she says she’s OK then I think we just have to pretend that we believe her, and carry on as though nothing is wrong.”
“All right. Then let’s get together quickly in my office, shall we? Grab Timothy as well. Bob, will you press the button on setting up the incident room, please?”
“Already on it, guv,” Metcalfe replied, picking up his phone. “If you want to go on ahead I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
Collison sat at his desk and pulled a pad towards him. He unscrewed his pen, trying to marshal his thoughts, but before he had a chance to do much more than jot down ‘Conrad Taylor’ as a heading there was a brief tap on the half open door and Willis ushered Desai and Evans into the room.
“Sit down everyone,” he enjoined them, waving at the various chairs which stood around the large, half-empty room.
“We’ll just wait for DI Metcalfe, but for your benefit, Timothy, we found a dead body this afternoon at a house just round the corner in Downshire Hill. The doctor reckons he died violently: from a bash on the head to be precise. Other than that we know very little, apart from the fact that he seems to have been sharing the house with a young Indian lad called Raj, who hasn’t been seen for some time.”
The House on Downshire Hill Page 4