by P. F. Ford
‘Are you telling me you’ve found another body next to the first one?’ asked a horrified Slater.
‘It’s another skeleton, and it wasn’t quite that straightforward,’ explained Cutter. ‘It was actually about fifteen yards further along the ditch, but yes, we found another one.’
‘Jesus, Henry,’ said Slater. ‘It’s not another kid, is it? We’re nowhere near finding out what happened to the first one yet!’
‘We’re not sure yet. It could be a child, or a small adult. Spoilt your day again, have I?’ asked Cutter.
Slater sighed. ‘I suppose that’s your job, isn’t it?’ he said, with a rueful smile.
‘Yes, I guess you could look at it like that.’
‘So what can you tell us about this one?’
‘We’ve only just got it out of the ground, so I can’t tell you much except it’s been down there for some years. We’re going to work through, so we’ll have something for you by the morning.’
‘Don’t overdo it,’ said Slater. ‘We won’t be back until late morning. We’ve been driving all day, we’re not driving through the night as well.’
‘I’ve asked the lab to drop everything and rush the DNA sample.’
‘You think the bodies could be related?’ asked Slater.
‘I have no idea,’ said Cutter, noncommittally.
Slater sat up a bit straighter. ‘But we could have a double murder on our hands.’
‘I’m not saying anything of the sort, it’s far too early to jump to that conclusion,’ said Cutter, ‘but it’s always a possibility.’
‘Right. We’ll see you in the morning,’ said Slater, ending the call. ‘Bloody hell, Watson, what have we stumbled upon. A double murder?’
‘Of course, it could just be two separate murders,’ suggested Watson.
‘Of course that’s possible, too,’ said Slater, thoughtfully, ‘but I wonder what the chances are of two people dumping two bodies in exactly the same place.’
‘Yes, when you put it like that it does seem a bit of a coincidence,’ Watson conceded.
‘We’ll see,’ said Slater, with a grim smile, ‘but I’m not a great believer in coincidences.’
* * *
Slater had been calling Jenny every half hour for the last three hours, but it just kept going straight to voicemail. Either her phone was switched off, or she was somewhere where the signal was crap. He figured it was more likely to be the case that her phone was switched off. She could be very childish at times, and it would be typical of her to think frustrating him in this way would be a brilliant way of getting back at him. He left her one more message, this time suggesting that if she didn't call him back he wouldn't be calling her again, and then, feeling distinctly irritated he went to bed.
Chapter 17
‘This new skeleton is that of a young woman,’ announced Dr Henry Cutter next morning. ‘We estimate she was around eighteen to twenty years old when she died.’
‘So, are you saying these two were murdered together?’ asked Slater.
‘Well, I suppose it’s quite logical to make that assumption,’ said Cutter.
Slater looked suitably puzzled. ‘But?’
‘Well, I think we can rule out that particular possibility, because there is one peculiarity which calls that idea into question.’ He nodded to Nadira.
‘As you know, there’s always a margin of error when it comes to estimating how long bodies have been in the ground,’ she said, ‘but even allowing for error, we’re confident the bodies were buried at different times.’
‘How different?’ asked Slater.
‘We estimate the young woman has been dead somewhere between fifteen and twenty years, and as you know, the child somewhere between five and ten years.’
‘I’m not sure if that helps or simply complicates the issue,’ said Slater, thoughtfully.
‘There’s more,’ said Cutter, with a smile. ‘Nadira thinks she may have a cause of death for the young woman, and this really should be a bit more helpful to you.’
‘Really?’ said Slater.
‘Okay, so we know there may have been some damage from the JCB,’ began Nadira. ‘But actually there’s not too much, and it’s fairly easy to spot the recent damage. If you look here’ – she pointed to the right leg where fractures were clearly visible both above and below the knee – ‘you can see multiple fractures. These are old wounds that never got the chance to even start healing.’
‘Which means they were caused at, or just before, the time of death,’ Watson said.
‘Exactly,’ agreed Nadira. ‘And the pelvis is fractured, and there are more here.’ She pointed to further fractures to the ribs.
Slater had seen this sort of damage before. ‘She was hit by a car,’ he said.
Nadira nodded. ‘I think so – and with extreme force. And if these injuries didn’t kill her, this would have.’ She finished by tilting the skull to reveal yet another fracture.
‘Fractured skull where her head hit the bonnet?’ suggested Watson.
‘It could be that,’ said Nadira, ‘but she probably would have been thrown across the road, so it could have been impact with the road surface.’
‘Do you think it happened on the road by the ditch?’ asked Slater.
Nadira smiled. ‘Now that’s something I couldn’t say. She could have been run down somewhere else and dumped here.’
There was a brief pause while they digested this latest bit of news.
‘I’m sorry we can’t tell you where she died, but we can tell you when,’ said Cutter, brightly. ‘We found her watch.’
He produced a clear plastic evidence bag with the watch inside, and passed it across to Slater, who studied the watch face and then passed it on to Watson.
‘It says 22:45 on the night of 22 October,’ announced Watson.
‘I’m afraid we can’t tell you the year,’ said Cutter.
‘Well, I’m disappointed,’ said Slater, his tongue firmly in his cheek. ‘I was rather hoping you were going to tell us the date and the make and model of the car.’
Cutter smiled back at him. ‘Come now, we have to leave some work for the detectives!’
‘So we have a young woman probably killed by a car, possibly a hit-and-run, and then a few years later a little boy may well have been strangled and dumped in the same ditch. If that’s right, it’s got to be the same killer, hasn’t it?’
‘I reckon that’s your area of expertise, not ours,’ said Cutter.
‘So, if it was the same killer, they decided to bury the second body alongside the first,’ mused Watson. ‘But why would anyone do that?’
‘Oh that’s easy,’ said Slater. ‘If you’d dumped a body ten years earlier and it was undiscovered, you’d be pretty sure you had a safe hiding place, wouldn’t you?’
Chapter 18
‘Is it me,’ asked Watson when they were back in their own office, ‘or is this case getting more and more confusing?’
‘It’s certainly getting more and more intriguing,’ said Slater. ‘I was the one who said if the first body had been undiscovered for ten years it would be a safe hiding place, but it wasn’t, was it? Someone obviously knew that second body was there or there wouldn’t have been a tip-off.’
‘Someone must have seen the body being dumped,’ Watson said, ‘but why would you wait ten years before you reported it?’
‘Blackmail?’ said Slater. ‘If you don’t pay me every month I’m going to tell the police what you did?’
‘But this was a child! Who would take cash to keep that quiet?’
‘How long have you been a police officer?’ asked Slater. ‘That’s a very naive attitude for someone with your experience. There are thousands of people who would put money before anything, and you should know it.’
Watson sighed. ‘I suppose that’s how I would like the world to be,’ she admitted.
‘It’s how we’d all like it to be,’ agreed Slater, ‘but that would be more like an ideal world and, sad
ly, this is the real world. Maybe someone defaulted on their payment and the tip-off was a warning. Maybe next time we’ll get the name of the killer.’
Watson looked gloomy.
‘Come on, Sam,’ said Slater. ‘We can’t let our feelings get in the way or we won’t be able to solve anything. Let’s look at the timeline.’
‘Right,’ said Watson, determinedly. ‘So we’ve got— Wait a minute! What if this young woman is Kylie Mason? What if David Hudson was right, and she didn’t run away, but was hit by a car instead? He told us it was towards the end of October, in 2000, when she was supposed to have moved into the cottage. According to Dr Cutter her watch suggests she was killed at 22.45 on 22 October. If we assume she died where she was found, she could have been out walking the baby, trying to get him to sleep when someone ran her down.’
‘Would you be out walking on these narrow country roads at night?’ asked Slater, dubiously.
‘Not normally, no,’ agreed Watson, ‘but don’t forget she was only eighteen years old. She had just moved house, she was new to the area, she had a three-month-old baby, and Hudson said the baby didn’t sleep well.’
Slater was trying to picture the scene. ‘Go on,’ he said, encouragingly.
‘What if she had a baby who was screaming his head off, and she was at her wits’ end and just desperate to get him off to sleep? She’s got no one to turn to, but she knows walking seems to pacify the baby, so she puts on the sling, loads up the baby, and starts walking. She doesn’t even think about where she’s going, she just follows the footpath. She doesn’t care about streetlights, she just wants to stop the baby crying. Don’t forget, the footpath peters out just down the road. Perhaps she reached the end of the footpath and just kept walking on the road. Maybe she was so frazzled by the baby not sleeping, and by moving house, that she just didn’t think.’
‘Would she get that stressed?’ asked Slater.
Watson gave him that look again, the one that could have been contempt or pity, he really couldn’t tell. ‘You don’t know much about babies, do you, sir? I’ve known friends in their thirties with new babies, with a husband and grandparents on hand, and they still get so wound up they don’t know what day of the week it is. We’re talking about a girl of eighteen on her own with a new baby. She’s still a kid herself, and she’s just had to deal with moving house by herself. Of course she would have been stressed. I doubt the poor girl knew if she was coming or going!’
Slater figured the look must have been contempt after all but conceded the point. ‘When you put it like that, it makes sense. So she walks along until she runs out of footpath, then has to walk in the road. So, why didn’t she turn back?’
‘She’s desperate,’ said Watson, ‘and the baby’s still crying. She daren’t stop.’
‘Okay, but it’s dark and there are no streetlights. She could still turn around and go back to the village where there are lights.’
‘But she’s not thinking straight,’ insisted Watson. ‘Maybe she had a torch, or there was enough moonlight to see by.’
‘Okay,’ said Slater, thoughtfully, ‘I’m with you so far. But if we assume the car coming towards her had headlights on, why didn’t she see it coming and get out of the way?’
‘That’s a risky assumption,’ argued Watson. ‘What if the driver was drunk, he might not have had any lights on, or maybe they just weren’t working for some reason. Besides, there’s a bend at the top of that slope. Perhaps she didn’t see it until it was too late.’
Slater thought for a minute. ‘Or there was just nowhere for her to go to get out of the way,’ he said. ‘If she was going out of the village on the footpath, she would have been on the right side of the road, and there’s no footpath on the other side to cross over to, so she probably would have stayed on that side. The thing is, that’s where that bloody great ditch is. If it was dark, she couldn’t risk stepping that way or she might have fallen in, and with the baby strapped to her she wouldn’t risk that, would she?’
They both considered the scenario.
‘And there’s another possibility,’ said Slater. ‘I’ve been assuming the car was heading into the village. What if it was coming from the village?’
‘It would have come up behind her,’ said Watson.
‘Exactly,’ said Slater. ‘And if she was on the right, there should have been plenty of room for it to have passed by on her left, but what if your theory is correct and the driver was drunk? Maybe he was going too fast, lost control, and didn’t see Kylie until it was too late.’
‘Nadira said she thought the car had hit her from the side, not the back,’ Watson pointed out.
‘Okay,’ said Slater. ‘So, Kylie’s walking along, hears the car coming, but she thinks it’s going to pass her by with plenty of room to spare. Then she hears something, maybe the car skids, or whatever, and she turns to see what’s happening, and the car hits her as she’s turning.’
‘But what about the baby?’ asked Watson.
‘Maybe he’s in that ditch and we just haven’t found him yet,’ Slater suggested. ‘Or maybe Kylie is shielding the baby from a direct hit, and by some miracle he remains unhurt even when Kylie gets sent flying by the car.’ He stared at Watson, who stared back but didn’t speak. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘I think, if it is Kylie Mason, it explains how she was killed, but what about the baby? Why haven’t we found his body?’
‘I dunno,’ said Slater. ‘Maybe we need to do another search of the ditch, but we don’t even know for sure that this is Kylie Mason.’
‘Could the driver have taken the baby?’
‘If you’re right, and this is Kylie, we have to consider that possibility,’ he said. ‘Unless, of course, there’s still another tiny body to be found in that blessed ditch. We’ll have to get Henry’s team to check again.’
‘If it is Kylie, we’ll have to tell her parents,’ said Watson.
‘Hmm, yes, you’re right. I wanted to speak to them anyway, but we’d best wait for the DNA results before we visit them. In the meantime, I want the team to continue searching for her, and I want her parents’ address confirmed.’
‘I’ll chase them up,’ said Watson.
‘When you’ve done that, I think it’s time we had a chat with DS Norton, don’t you?’
‘Oh yes, I’m going to enjoy that one,’ said Watson, with a wicked grin.
‘Good,’ said Slater, ‘because I want you to take the lead. Think you can handle it?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Yes, so do I,’ agreed Slater.
Chapter 19
‘I’m DS Brearley, and this is DI Slater. We’re from the Mobile Unsolved Case Unit.’
Norton sniffed his disgust. ‘Never heard of it.’
‘We’re a new squad.’
‘Oh! You mean you’re one of these experimental Mickey Mouse units with nothing better to do than waste everybody else’s time?’
‘Actually,’ said Watson, ‘our main job is to try to solve old cases that went nowhere. You can call that a waste of time if you want to, but it’s not how we see it.’
‘You’re all a waste of time,’ said Norton. ‘If it was down to me, we’d go back fifty years to the time when we could dish out a bit of justice for ourselves.’
Watson smiled sweetly at him. ‘Maybe that’s why you’re still a DS,’ she said. ‘Dinosaurs never were the brightest species.’
Norton’s face darkened. ‘Who d’you think you’re talking to?’ he snapped.
‘Oh, I know exactly who I’m talking to,’ she said, stony-faced, ‘but I’m not so sure you know who you’re dealing with.’
Norton smiled at Slater. ‘That’s the trouble with these girls,’ he said. ‘They get ideas above their station—’
‘Is that right?’ said Slater, his voice icy. ‘DS Brearley may be a woman, and she may be twenty years your junior, but she is your equal in rank. Ever think how something like that might have happened?’ He gave Norton a spl
it second to answer before continuing. ‘No? Then let me tell you – it’s because she is way ahead of you in brains, manners, professionalism, and just about anything else you care to mention. I can assure you I would rather have one of her working alongside me than ten of you. Now, you can give her the respect she deserves and we can keep this informal, or we can arrest you and make a big deal out of it. You choose.’
Norton licked his lips. Under the table, Slater noticed his right leg starting to twitch. ‘What d’you mean arrest me? Arrest me for what? What’s this about?’
‘You look very nervous, Colin,’ said Watson. ‘Can I call you Colin? It’s much friendlier, don’t you think? What are you so nervous about?’
Norton swallowed hard. ‘I’m not nervous, I’m fine. I’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘Oh right, that’s good,’ said Watson. ‘Now, how good’s your memory?’
‘My memory’s fine.’
‘Wonderful,’ said Watson. ‘As I said before, part of our job is to look into old cases, and that’s just what we’re doing right now, just down the road, as it happens, in Trillington. You know Trillington? It’s a nice little village a few miles outside town.’
‘Of course I know it.’
Watson smiled at him. ‘How about a man called David Hudson? Do you remember him?’
Norton adopted a look of puzzled innocence. ‘No, can’t say as I do. The name’s not ringing any bells.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if the bells have rusted solid,’ said Watson, quietly.
‘What’s that?’
‘I said I’m surprised,’ said Watson. ‘There can’t be that many men who’ve laid you out over the years, although I bet there have been plenty who wanted to.’ She picked a sheet of paper out from the file in front of her. ‘David Hudson,’ she read, ‘was convicted of assaulting a police officer in March 2001. He got six months. You were the officer he assaulted.’
