Definitely Dead

by Kate Bendelow

  ‘I’m talking about the view,’ I had said, sweetly. ‘It’s just perfect. You, however, really are the ugliest, most grotesque woman I have ever met. You always have been. You disgust me.’

  She had never been spoken to like that before. Nobody had ever used those words to describe her. She had been adored all her life. A vicious narcissist, who had used her looks to cajole, entice, and destroy others, I loved the irony that these words were the last she would ever hear.

  She tried to pull away from me. To step down from the trunking. She was twisting angrily and spitting profanities. In her inebriated state, she was no match for me as I continued to pin her against me. I had to do it now. I couldn’t afford to risk any scratches or other defence marks. My height worked to my advantage as I heaved her upwards from her midriff. She was as light as a feather. Her knees barely scraped the brickwork before she was over the edge of the wall.

  For a woman with such a low, husky voice she certainly screamed very shrilly. The thud of her body smashing into the gravel below was encored by a beautiful silence. I glanced over the wall and saw her lying like a shattered marionette. Annoyingly, I had to admit that even broken, her legs still looked good.

  14

  Andy Carr woke up with a raging hangover. The weekend had passed by in an alcohol-induced blur which he was now seriously regretting. God knows he had needed a blowout after the stress he’d been under lately, but even by his standards, he’d drank a lot. He smiled despite himself, as the memories came trickling back. He recalled the look on her face when he had arrived at her door. He felt himself harden, despite his hangover, at the recollection of everything that had happened afterwards.

  Then, as if he’d been slapped across the face, he started, as the gravity of what he had done hit home. He had taken a serious risk; more so than before. He could so easily have been caught out and just because he hadn’t, that still didn’t mean he had got away with it. And if word got out what he had done, his life wouldn’t be worth living. The consequences were too severe to even consider. All his worst nightmares would come true.

  Groaning, he sat up, driving the heels of his hands into his eyes as if to rub the pain away. How could he have been so stupid? He had been reckless and impulsive. Again. He frantically tried to recall every detail of last night. He recalled scraps of conversation that made him sigh. Then, leaning over, he pulled his trousers towards him, spilling the contents of the pockets onto the bed. His wallet and phone were there. That was good. As far as he could tell, he’d not left anything incriminating behind. Only she knew he’d been there, and it wasn’t as if she could say anything.

  He smiled to himself, his usual arrogance like a comfort blanket. The smile quickly faded as he glanced at the alarm clock. He cursed the fact he had either failed to set it the night before or had slept right through it. He was late for work. Very late. That would mean Kym would be on his back too. Although compared to what would happen to him if the truth got out, she was the least of his worries.

  Andy reached for his phone. He would palm Kym off with some excuse about a stomach bug. He always knew how to talk women round. It wasn’t just his looks that attracted them, but his easy chat and teasing banter. He knew how to charm the ladies and how to keep them wanting more. He practised his poorly voice out loud in his empty bedroom several times, until he was satisfied he had the tone just right. Smiling at his own cunning, he reached for his phone. He had the luck of the devil and could get away with anything.

  15

  Maya was reading the overnight summary log, which detailed all the incidents which had occurred during the night shift. There had been several assaults, one of which appeared quite serious. The sweltering heat was referred to as Section 18 weather, which was the terminology for grievous bodily harm. Fraying tempers combined with the consumption of too much chilled alcohol resulted in spurts of unpremeditated violence.

  Kym marched out of her side office and clapped her hands for attention. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Andy has just phoned in. He won’t be in today as he’s not well.’

  ‘Nothing trivial, I hope,’ Elaine muttered. This caused Chris to howl with laughter and earned her a warning look off Kym.

  ‘In view of the fracas between the two of you the other day I suggest you keep such unhelpful comments to yourself.’ Kym scowled. ‘We don’t want to cause any further animosity, do we?’

  Elaine looked suitably chastened and Maya couldn’t help pitying her. Kym was now surveying the duties board to see who was working that day, so she knew how many staff she had to allocate to the day’s incidents. The phone rang and Maya was about to answer it, but Amanda beat her to it, causing her to flick a playful middle finger in Maya’s direction.

  ‘Did Andy say how long he’d be off for?’ Chris asked Kym.

  ‘He said he thought it was just a twenty-four-hour thing so hopefully he should be back tomorrow.’ She shrugged, still concentrating on the duties board.

  ‘Hangover then.’ Nicola smirked. Kym turned to face her, frowning at the comment. She was just about to speak when Amanda raised her hand, indicating the phone call she was having was of some importance. Connor leant over towards the office radio and turned the music down in anticipation. Everyone remained hushed, listening to Amanda’s side of the conversation with bated breath. Eventually Amanda ended the call and sat back in her chair, pushing her reading glasses up on top of her head.

  ‘Suicide,’ she announced succinctly.

  ‘Anything in it for us?’ Kym frowned. It was unusual for them to attend a suicide unless there was something particularly exceptional about the death. Otherwise, a coroner’s officer would normally attend if there was no forensic requirement.

  ‘Well, that was comms. They’ve made CID aware and are letting us know. I guess at the very least we’ll have to go and record the scene in view of who it is,’ Amanda replied warily.

  ‘Who? Spit it out, Amanda, for Christ’s sake,’ Kym snapped.

  ‘Celeste Warren.’

  It was DI Redford who answered, he had appeared unnoticed in the doorway. He was tall and lean, his buzz-cut hair revealing enough stubble to hint at his auburn colouring. He was dressed immaculately in a tailored suit and highly polished shoes. His face did not reveal anything about the name he had just disclosed, but the stunned silence which followed, indicated to Maya that the person was someone very well known.

  Chris broke the silence. Puffing his cheeks, he blew out slowly. ‘Celeste Warren? Fuckin’ hell. I didn’t even realise she was still going. I assumed she died years ago, boss.’

  ‘You’re not the only one. We’ve just had the exact same conversation,’ Redford nodded towards Amanda, ‘you must remember her surely?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she scowled, ‘she was a nasty piece of work. I remember locking her up one day and she ripped a clump of my hair out. Vicious bitch.’

  Redford nodded and addressed Kym. ‘She was found by the housekeeper. It looks like she’s jumped. I’ve spoken with the first officer on the scene, Greg Owen. He says initially it looks like she’d been pissed and fallen off the roof terrace.

  ‘Paramedics have confirmed life extinct and I’ve asked everyone to withdraw for now. The housekeeper was quite happy to have the day off. Apparently, there’s no love lost between them. Greg’s staying near the body until we get there. The property’s huge and is gated, so we don’t need to worry about prying eyes. He said if we shout up comms when we get there, he’ll open the electric gates for us. The housekeeper has left him the keys.’

  ‘No problem.’ Kym took one last glance over the duties board before turning to Maya. ‘This sounds straightforward enough, are you happy to pick it up? Get a bit more experience under your belt. If there is any cause for concern when you get to the scene, ring me. Otherwise, if you’re happy it’s suicide, photograph everything and bag her up ready for the mortuary, okay?’

  DI Redford turned to Maya. ‘We’re a bit thin on the ground this morning, but I’ve got a DS covering who
has transferred over from Cedar Lane. I’ll ask him to meet you there.’ He raised his hand in thanks towards Kym. ‘Keep me posted.’

  ‘So, tell me about her,’ Maya said, turning to Amanda and Chris, ‘what’s she known for?’

  Connor pulled up his chair eagerly and even Kym perched on the edge of Nicola’s desk ready to hear all about the infamous Celeste Warren.

  Chris began, ‘I first heard of her years ago when we did a raid on a brothel. She was the madam in charge and ran that place with an iron fist. I’ve done raids on brothels before…’

  ‘I bet, you dirty bastard.’ Elaine sniggered, but she was quickly hushed by Nicola.

  ‘But this was different,’ Chris continued. ‘The women, well, girls that worked there actually seemed relieved to see the cops. It was strongly suspected that Celeste had been people trafficking before it even became a “thing”. Anyway, a couple of the girls were underage so obviously they threw the book at her. Don’t ask me how, but she managed to wriggle out of most charges and avoided a potentially long prison sentence.’

  ‘It was partly due to the fact none of the victims would testify against her,’ Amanda said. ‘They were too scared. We also suspected at the time that the prosecutor was a regular punter of hers, so didn’t put as much effort into getting her sent down as he should have done.’

  Amanda shook her head sadly. ‘Of all the people I’ve dealt with during my career, she’s been one of the worst. She used to be a looker back in the day. One of those women who are so beautiful, people just gravitate towards them. Anyway, she used to do the usual pimps’ trick. Befriend vulnerable teenagers – girls and boys – who were on the streets or whatever. She’d give them a place to stay and offer to look after them. Next thing you know, she had them hooked on drugs and running tricks to pay her back.

  ‘The money she made off those poor people over the years. She was infamous for her temper and was well known to torture anyone who crossed her, so no one dared to come to us about her. She used to brand people. She had a diamond pendant shaped in the initial C, which she used to heat with a cigarette lighter then press into the face or neck of anyone who worked for her or just pissed her off.

  ‘If anyone tried to get away or refused to work for her, she’d torture them. Really sick stuff you can’t even imagine. Any proper beatings she liked to delegate to one of her “bouncers”, but she always stayed to watch. The fact she’s committed suicide is ironic, because I know of at least five young ’uns who topped themselves in desperation to get away from her.’ Amanda shook her head before she continued.

  ‘Not only that, but she also used to blackmail a lot of her clients. Most of the rooms she used had cameras and recording equipment in, so she could threaten the punters with their indiscretion in full Technicolour. It’s no wonder she’s rolling in it. I guess crime does pay for some people.’

  Amanda had been subconsciously touching the back of her head as she spoke, almost as if she could recall the spot where Celeste Warren had once torn a clump of her hair out, back in the day.

  ‘Suicide though?’ Chris shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t have thought that of her.’

  ‘No, me neither,’ Amanda said, ‘wouldn’t have thought it from someone as narcissistic as her.’

  ‘People change though, don’t they?’ Elaine suggested. ‘You said yourself, Chris, you thought she was already dead. If she’s been out of the spotlight for the last few years, maybe she’s been depressed or whatever. Missed the cut and thrust of her old life and couldn’t cope with being a has-been. Maybe age softened her, and she regretted all the bad things she’d done?’

  Chris and Amanda nodded in agreement at the suggestion just as something occurred to Maya.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ she breathed. ‘This year is getting like 2016 was for celebrities.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Amanda tuned to look at her.

  ‘Well, you remember how loads of celebrities died in 2016 and everyone was saying it was like there was a curse or something?’

  ‘Ah, yeah.’ Nicola nodded. ‘Three of my favourites died; David Bowie, Prince and George Michael. Oh, and Victoria Wood – I always loved her. What’s your point?’

  ‘It seems to be the same with our criminals just lately.’

  Amanda looked thoughtful. ‘Yeah, I get your point. There was Gorman, the guy you and Chris did, Jim Baron, who Tony came over from Alder Street to deal with, and now Celeste Warren.’

  ‘You reckon somebody’s bumping off all our criminals then, Maya?’ Elaine laughed, ‘I hope they’ll not put us out of a job. I’ve got a mortgage to pay.’

  Chris was about to make a quip when Kym cut him dead. ‘Do you remember the conversation you and I had about conspiracy theories?’ She stared icily at Maya, clearly unimpressed with the suggestion regardless of whether it was banter. ‘Can I even trust you to attend this crime scene, or are you going to concoct more fairy stories and come back with some magic beans?’

  ‘Yeah… yes… of course you can trust me,’ Maya stammered. ‘Sorry, Kym.’

  ‘I should think so too. Keep an eye out while you’re there for any paperwork or other clues that may suggest that Celeste was in some sort of financial difficulty. Also make a note of any medication that you find, particularly antidepressants, that sort of thing, and anything else that may indicate the state of mind she was in.

  ‘Basically, find me evidence to support the fact that this is the suicide it appears to be, so we can dismiss any ridiculous fantasist notions. In your own time, ladies and gentlemen, can we please get back to doing the job we’re paid for?’ Giving her usual double clap Kym flounced back to her office leaving the others suitably disgruntled.

  Nicola and Chris smiled pityingly at Maya and Elaine reached over to give her a reassuring half-hug. No one liked being on the receiving end of Kym’s sharp tongue. They had all been brought to task by her at some point, which is why they empathised with Maya.

  ‘Her bark’s worse than her bite.’ Amanda smiled reassuringly.

  ‘I feel a right bloody idiot,’ Maya mumbled. ‘I suppose I was being flippant, but it is a coincidence, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t know about coincidence so much. People die, Maya. And the chances are that people like Celeste, Jim Baron and Karl Gorman are all victims of the life they lead, which takes a toll on their health physically or mentally in Celeste’s case. You should know by now how logical and systematic Kym is. It’s okay to have an opinion, but don’t go getting her back up by theorising about events. She doesn’t like it.’

  ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Maya grinned, feeling reassured. ‘I better go and give this job one hundred per cent then, so she has no excuse to ram those magic beans down my throat.’

  Maya hurried out, concerned that CID would arrive before her and she didn’t want to keep them waiting. She went over in her mind again and again what she would need to do when she arrived at the scene. This time she really had to prove her competence to Kym. She would find the evidence she needed at the address to prove what state of mind Celeste Warren had been in and that would be that. A straightforward non-suspicious sudden death. What could possibly go wrong?

  16

  Maya pulled over on the long stretch of country road which led to the driveway of Celeste’s palatial home. The property wasn’t situated on a typical main road, rather a stretch which cut through the beautiful countryside, past farmers’ fields and old stone walls. The property was fronted by large, electric gates. The name Field View was engraved ornately next to a video intercom fixed to a concrete post.

  Maya had parked in front of a Vauxhall Astra. The non-liveried vehicles driven by the CID and plain-clothed officers were notoriously either a white Vauxhall Astra or Corsa, all bearing the same sixty-eight registration plate. On seeing her, the driver waved. Maya approached the car, and he released the central locking so she could climb into the passenger seat.

  ‘Maya Barton.’ She smiled as she extended her hand.

  ‘Hello, Maya, I’m Dave
Wainwright. I’ve been expecting you. I was just making a few notes while I was waiting.’ He tapped the familiar blue hard-backed Banner notebook that detectives used to record their actions in.

  Wainwright looked about late fifties, with greying hair and a pockmarked complexion. He was rather rotund, his stomach straining against his shirt and tie. His gold wedding band dug into his sausage fingers. She supposed the typical CID lifestyle of takeaway dinners and McDonald’s lunches had taken its toll on the detective’s figure.

  ‘So, Maya, what do you know about the job?’ He smiled kindly. His avuncular manner and soft tone of voice endeared her to him immediately. Still smarting from the dressing down she had received from Kym, Maya was determined to prove herself at this job and she felt even more confident knowing she was going to be working alongside the seemingly pleasant DC Wainwright.

  ‘I’ve been told that the infamous Celeste Warren has jumped from her roof terrace in what appears to be a suicide. I take it you’ve heard of her?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He held the top of his pen in his mouth as he scribbled some notes down. ‘Everyone knew Celeste. I’ve heard stories about her in my time that’d make your hair even curlier.’

  Maya nodded. ‘My intention is to record the scene photographically, search for any evidence that may indicate her state of mind prior to her death and then we can scrape her up and ship her to the corpse-cooler.’

  ‘Corpse-cooler?’

  ‘The mortuary.’

  He laughed. ‘Nice turn of phrase, Maya.’

  ‘At this stage,’ she continued, ‘there’s no suggestion that she will need a home office post-mortem. That may change, of course, if we find anything that arouses our suspicion. The CSM is quite happy from the information we’ve received up to now, that it’s a straightforward suicide.’