Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

by P. F. Ford

  Watson looked surprised to hear Cutter’s apology, but she nodded her assent. ‘Of course.’

  ‘But you think you can tell us what’s what now?’ asked Slater.

  Cutter nodded to his tiny colleague, and she removed the sheet to reveal the skeleton. He looked up at Slater as a groan of dismay escaped his lips. ‘That’s right.’ Cutter sighed. ‘You don’t need to be an expert to see it’s the skeleton of a child – a young boy in fact.’

  ‘I could see it wasn’t a giant, but I was hoping it might just be a small woman,’ muttered Slater, his disappointment loud and clear. Watson looked equally disturbed.

  ‘We’re checking dental records, and we’ve taken DNA samples from the teeth, but even though I made it high priority, the results will take a couple of days to come back,’ said Cutter. ‘And unless there’s someone on the database who’s a match, even that won’t be a lot of help.’

  ‘At least if we can find possible parents we’ll be able to make a start,’ said Slater. ‘What else do you know? Can you tell us how old he was when he died?’

  ‘The growth of bones is a pretty good indicator,’ said Nadira, ‘and teeth can tell us a lot, too. I can’t tell you his exact age yet, but I believe he was somewhere between five and eight years old. I’ve asked for much more detailed analysis to be more accurate, but that could take a couple of weeks.’

  Watson and Slater exchanged a look. ‘Can you tell us anything about how he died?’ asked Slater.

  ‘That’s not clear cut,’ said Nadira. ‘There are no obvious damage marks anywhere on the skeleton, although the hyoid bone is fractured which suggests—’

  ‘Strangulation.’ Watson’s voice was almost a whisper.

  ‘That’s very good,’ said Nadira. ‘If it was an adult I’d say it was almost a certainty, but it’s not as reliable an indicator of strangulation in children. I’d say it’s a strong possibility, but I couldn’t say for sure.’

  ‘But if you had to put money on it?’ asked Slater.

  ‘A bit better than evens,’ said Cutter.

  ‘Okay.’ Slater took a deep breath. ‘So we have a little boy, six or seven years old, who may have been strangled.’

  ‘It’s not much to go on, but I can start searching for missing boys who fit the description,’ said Watson. ‘Can you tell us how long ago he died?’

  ‘At this stage, I would estimate he’s been in the ground anything from five to fifteen years,’ said Nadira. ‘Again, I can be a lot more precise when we’ve had more time.’

  ‘At least we’ve got somewhere to start.’ Watson’s voice sounded determined.

  ‘Yes, thanks, guys, that’s great work,’ said Slater. ‘It’s just a pity you had to spoil our day in the process.’

  ‘It tends to go with the territory, I’m afraid,’ said Cutter, with a rueful smile. ‘We’re hoping we will be able to tell you more tomorrow. We’ve got more stuff we dug out of the ditch to go through yet. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and find something to identify him.’

  ‘Yeah, a name and address would be good,’ said Slater, smiling back sadly.

  ‘If only we could,’ said Cutter. ‘We’ll see what we can do, starting in the morning. Right now, we’re going to shut down for the day.’

  Chapter 3

  ‘They have a very strange set-up,’ said Watson, turning her chair around to face Slater across the office.

  Slater had been idly swivelling his chair from side to side, but now he laughed. ‘They like working with dead bodies. In my book that makes them strange people.’

  ‘Yes, but even so,’ said Watson, doubtfully.

  ‘Strange in what way?’

  ‘Well, where do they sleep, for a start. Are they in the lab with dead bodies? And where do they shower?’

  ‘They’ve got a shower in the lab. They have to have those facilities in their line of work. And have you seen the size of the cab on that wagon of theirs? It’s got a sleeping compartment up behind the driver. I should imagine it’s pretty cosy.’

  ‘But where does the other one sleep?’

  Slater looked at Watson and gave her a sympathetic smile. Was she really that naive? ‘Like I said, I should imagine it’s pretty cosy in that sleeping compartment.’ He finished with a theatrical wink.

  Watson looked shocked. ‘You mean . . . Gosh! Really?’

  ‘Like rabbits,’ said Slater, enjoying himself hugely.

  Now Watson was blushing a nice shade of crimson. ‘Is that even allowed?’

  ‘Probably not,’ said Slater. ‘But I told you – Henry’s a maverick. Personally, I don’t care what he and Nadira get up to in their own time as long as they do their job.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Are we booked into a hotel? Is it far away?’

  ‘It’s a small family-run place. It’s only ten minutes away.’

  ‘Okay, we’re both staying in the hotel, there’s nothing to rush home for, so how about we have a quick planning meeting now and get ourselves ready to start in earnest first thing tomorrow?’

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ said Watson.

  ‘So, you tell me, where should we start?’ Slater suppressed a smile as Watson’s cheeks glowed pink slightly. He got the impression that almost every boss she had worked with before had treated her more like a gofer. When he’d worked with her on a case a few months previously, she had seemed shocked when he had valued her opinion and even asked for it.

  ‘Well, at the moment we have no idea who he is, so we can’t go down the obvious route,’ she said. ‘But maybe we can start from the other end and find a missing person’s report that fits our victim. If I go back fifteen years, do you think that will be enough?’

  Slater felt slightly frustrated at the lack of direct actions they could actually take, but nodded. ‘I feel we should be doing more but, quite frankly, that’s about all we can do right now.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said Watson. ‘In normal cases there are usually clues you can act upon more or less immediately, and forensic evidence to work with, but with these old cases it’s a very different situation.’

  ‘You’re telling me. When I made that comment about the culprit being long gone, I didn’t realise just how true that was. Right now we literally have no idea what we’re dealing with or where to start.’

  Watson swung her chair round and began tapping away at her laptop. Slater sat and contemplated for a couple of minutes, still swinging his chair from side to side. This was frustrating, but really, what more could they do? ‘Are you busy, Watson?’

  ‘Just setting up this search,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘It’ll only take a couple of minutes.’

  ‘When you’ve finished we might as well call it a day and go and check in to that hotel.’

  Five minutes later, Watson closed her laptop, packed it away in its case, and swung her chair round to face him. ‘Ready when you are, boss.’

  He threw his car keys to her. ‘You can drive.’

  ‘Really? But it’s your new car!’

  ‘I did say you could sit in the driver’s seat if you behaved yourself.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s new.’

  ‘You can drive, can’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes. But what about my car?’

  ‘It’ll be safe enough here. What’s the point in us taking two cars over to the hotel, and then driving them both back again tomorrow? Think green, Watson.’

  ‘I suppose you have a point,’ she conceded. ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘I am, so come on, let’s go.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘You knew I was going to be staying away as long as this case lasted.’ Slater readjusted his mobile phone into a more comfortable position. ‘It’s just not practical for me to spend four or five hours driving every day. We agreed we would find somewhere to live once I’m working from my new base.’

  Much as Slater adored his girlfriend, Jenny, if there was one thing he didn’t like about her, it was her ability to sulk like a spoilt child when it suited her. He knew for a fact tha
t if he could see her face right now, she would be pouting like a five-year-old and quite possibly stamping her feet like one too.

  ‘But I’m on my own, it’s not fair,’ she whined.

  ‘But you knew it was going to be like this,’ argued Slater. ‘I went over it again and again to make sure you understood. You’re the one who kept telling me how you were fed up having me watching you all the time. Well, now you’ve got the freedom you craved, right?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘You wanted me to take this job. Didn’t you tell me I’d be a fool not to take it?’

  ‘Well, yes, but—’

  ‘You can’t have it both ways, Jenny. I’m here now, and I’m staying here until this case is closed.’

  ‘How do I know I can trust what’s-her-name?’

  ‘D’you mean Watson?’ Slater asked, incredulously. ‘What makes you think she’s remotely interested in me? Are you telling me you don’t trust me?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Well, that’s what it sounds like.’

  ‘But she’s a very good-looking girl.’

  ‘The world’s full of good-looking girls, but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to climb into bed with all of them, does it?’

  ‘But you’re not working closely with all of them, and I bet you’re in the same hotel.’

  ‘Of course we’re in the same hotel, but we’re not in the same damned room, are we?’ he asked, exasperated. ‘Jesus, Jen, what’s got into you?’

  ‘I’m stuck here in this boring one-horse town, and I’m lonely, that’s all.’

  ‘It was a good enough town when you were in trouble and looking for help,’ he reminded her.

  ‘That was different.’

  ‘Anyway, I thought you liked your own company,’ Slater said, soothingly.

  ‘Well, yes I do, but I’d rather have you here. I need you here.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to make do for now.’

  ‘Well, poo to you,’ she said. ‘I won’t talk to you if you’re going to be like that.’ And with that, she hung up.

  Slater looked accusingly at his phone, muttered a curse, and shut his phone down. Women. He wondered if he would ever really understand them, then decided that no, of course he wouldn’t. He found the TV remote control and started to scroll through the channels to find something to watch. If Jenny wanted to sulk, she would just have to get on with it. He wasn’t going to play that game.

  Chapter 5

  It was seven thirty when Slater and Watson met in the dining room for breakfast. At seven thirty-five, Watson’s mobile phone pinged. ‘We’ve got some results from my search,’ she said. ‘They’ve sent me an email. It’ll be waiting when we get to the office.’

  Before Slater could answer, his own phone began to ring. ‘Henry’s got some more information for us,’ he told Watson when he hung up. ‘He’ll be waiting for us when we get on-site.’

  Just over half an hour later they were back on site, standing in the MAFU mobile lab. Looking at the state of Henry Cutter, it was obvious he had had little – or no – sleep the previous night. Nadira looked as serene as always, but Slater was pretty sure she was one of those people who would always look the same whatever happened.

  ‘Have you two been working all night?’ he asked.

  Cutter looked a little sheepish, and for the briefest moment Slater thought he was going to confess to the cause of his bleary eyes being something that would surely shock Watson. But he nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ Slater said, ‘so tell me what’s so important you needed to disturb my breakfast?’

  ‘Well, we appreciate you need something concrete to get started and, frankly, we felt we didn’t give you that yesterday,’ explained Cutter. ‘We also fancy a day off, so we thought we could kill two birds with one stone if we worked late last night and find you something to be going on with.’

  Watson looked sceptically across at Slater. He winked back at her. ‘And did you find us something?’

  ‘Let’s say we can take the rest of today off without having to carry a guilty conscience around,’ said Cutter. ‘Last night we decided to go through all the other stuff we had dug up to see if we could find something that would help you. I must stress that we still need the results from more detailed analysis to be one hundred per cent sure of our findings, but even without that, we’re ninety per cent sure we’re correct.’

  ‘Okay, let’s hear it then,’ said Slater.

  ‘Going on the rate of decomposition of natural and man-made fibres, it’s possible to deduce how long something has been underground. Likewise, you can do much the same with bones. There is a margin of error, of course, but because of these additional factors, we’re able to narrow the time of the burial down to somewhere between eight and twelve years.’

  ‘We’ve also got a couple of bits and pieces that may help with identification,’ said Nadira. ‘These were found within the vicinity of the body, so we’re confident they belong to the victim.’

  Cutter produced several clear plastic bags and placed them on the table. ‘We’ve got some sort of plastic doll, in remarkably good condition, some fabric remnants from the boy’s clothing, although it’s hard to decide what colour they might have been when he was wearing them, two leather shoes with rubber soles that are hopefully in good enough condition to be identifiable, and then we have the piece de resistance.’ He produced one more, much smaller, plastic bag and placed it before Slater and Watson.

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ said Watson.

  ‘Wow!’ said Slater. ‘Now that really could help.’

  ‘I thought you’d like it,’ said Cutter. ‘We think it’s perhaps a Christening gift, or something similar.’

  Slater picked up the bag and studied the contents, then he passed it to Watson. ‘Not just any old St Christopher pendant,’ he muttered. ‘It looks a bit special, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Maybe it was specially made,’ said Watson.

  ‘There is a hallmark,’ said Cutter. ‘It’s pretty worn and faded, but we looked at it under the microscope and we’re pretty sure it’s the mark of Edmond Moynihan. He was a Dublin silversmith working in the late 1800s. Having said that, I’m no expert in these things so you’ll need to check that out.’

  ‘This could be really important in narrowing our search,’ said Slater. ‘There can’t be that many missing kids with an antique, sterling silver pendant round their neck.’

  Chapter 6

  Slater carefully added the information they had gathered so far to the whiteboard that took up one wall of the office. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and pulled a gloomy face. There wasn’t exactly what he would call a lot to go on. The only thing they knew for sure was the date of the tip-off that had led them to the skeleton, which was written in the top left-hand corner. This was accompanied by an aerial photo of the location, a photo of the skeleton in situ, another of the skeleton laid out on a table in the MAFU lab, and photos of the other items that had been found in the grave. A post-it note that read “Buried six–ten years ago” had been stuck alongside the photos, and that was about it.

  ‘Goodness,’ said Watson’s voice from behind him. She was staring at the email she had just opened. ‘I’ve seen the statistics, but they don’t seem to mean anything when you look at them from a distance.’

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Slater.

  There was a heavy sigh. ‘I suppose I had no idea so many children went missing every year.’

  ‘It’s frightening, isn’t it? But try not to dwell on the numbers, or it will depress the hell out of you. You can’t deal with them all, so keep a bit of distance and focus on the ones that might be relevant to our case.’

  ‘There must be almost a hundred names on this list,’ she said, gloomily.

  ‘They can’t all be in the right age range,’ said Slater. He peered over her shoulder and studied the email. Then he pointed over her shoulder. ‘Look, it says they’ve extended the search parameters.’


  ‘I don’t see how that makes the situation any better for all these kids.’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ said Slater, gently, ‘but we can only deal with one at a time. And right now, we need to focus on the one who’s lying on a table in that lab next door.’

  ‘Yes, boss, I’m sorry.’

  He moved to one side and leant back against the desktop so he could see her face. ‘I take it you’ve not dealt with many missing children.’

  ‘Not one,’ she admitted, looking up at him. ‘I guess I’ve been lucky so far.’

  ‘You certainly have. I’m afraid now it’s a case of “welcome to the real world”, but at least we already know what’s happened to the boy. Finding a body when you’re looking for a live one is far worse, trust me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Watson, guiltily. ‘That was rather unprofessional of me.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Slater, with a reassuring smile, ‘and don’t ever be ashamed of showing your humanity. If you weren’t affected by it, I’d think there was something wrong with you. You just have to try not to focus on it.’

  ‘Right. I’ll try.’

  ‘Why don’t you send a copy of that list across to me? You start from the top and I’ll start from the bottom.’

  * * *

  An hour later, they had managed to narrow their list down to just five possibilities. Watson then spent another hour searching out further information through the central database.

  ‘I think number forty-eight on the list looks the strongest candidate,’ she said. ‘Sonny Randall. He was six years old when he was reported missing on 22 October 2006. It says here he was wearing a silver pendant when he went missing. The parents live in a village called Flipton Dene.’

  ‘How far’s that?’ asked Slater.