Captive

by Jay Nadal

  One thing that had struck Scott whilst they walked around the scene was the remoteness of the location. The quietness of the night that they had experienced earlier was in marked contrast to the conditions during the day. Despite its remoteness, it was still within a short drive to the A27 Shoreham bypass. The low rumbling din of traffic from the bypass gave a sign of its closeness.

  The officers on scene last night had also discovered a metal fabricated farm outbuilding on the other side of the wooded copse. This now extended the crime scene, and forensics officers would begin a daylight search of the whole cordoned off area. Other than a few wooden stables in the middle of the field opposite, there was little else except the riding school.

  “Okay, team. I know we’re all incredibly tired but we now have a body on our hands. We need to move on this quickly because I wouldn’t be surprised if the IPCC start crawling all over this.”

  “Do we have an ID on the vic?” Raj asked.

  Scott turned towards the incident board, and the bright smiling face of Hailey Bratton staring back at him. “The body was naked. No other personal possessions were found close by, nor does she have any distinguishable marks. The suggested age range is late teens to early twenties, so until forensics confirm, we can only assume that it’s Hailey Bratton.”

  “Any further update on any evidence gathered, or any reports of suspicious activity?” Helen asked, sipping on a piping hot cup of coffee. Swirls of steam pirouetted as she held the mug to her lips.

  “Again, nothing yet. We’re going into this investigation blind. My hunch is that whoever took her there knew the area quite well. It’s a track primarily serving the farm and the riding school.”

  “So you’re probably looking at staff who work at the riding school, and the farm, and I guess customers of the riding school?”

  Scott was deep in thought and didn’t reply to Helen’s suggestion at once. He crossed his arms and paced left and right in front of the incident board. “Add to that delivery supplies and courting couples…” His voice trailed off as he thought of anyone else who might go down there. “If it had been an opportunist who didn’t know the area, then there’s a high probability that the body would have just been dumped by the roadside. There’s no CCTV and no passing traffic. It stands to reason that a car could quite easily slip down there, dispose of the body, and leave the scene undetected within a few minutes.”

  Mike shifted in his seat as he crossed his arms and rested them on the top of his extended belly. “The chances are, the killer knew the area quite well, or was local to the area. He knew the area well enough to know that they wouldn’t be disturbed. With the A27 down the road, it would be easy to do the deed and disappear into the flow of traffic unnoticed?”

  The suggestion left the team in silence. The chances of finding the vehicle that the killer used amongst hours of CCTV footage would test even the most vigilant of eagle-eyed officers.

  “Okay, let’s get cracking. We’re working on the assumption it’s Hailey Bratton. The victim last night bore a similar resemblance in terms of height, weight, body shape and facial characteristics to that of Hailey. And without any similar disappearances being reported in the last few weeks on our patch, all indications are that this probably is Hailey.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation and the loss of life, the team felt excited at the opportunity to track down the killer. It was a strange reversal of feelings that put police officers at odds with the general public.

  In most cases of a body being found, those connected with the victim experienced deep emotional and psychological distress. Police officers, on the other hand, had to maintain a degree of impartiality. Evidence would be gathered, witness statements would be taken and the hunt for clues would begin in the gladiatorial battle between the police and the killer.

  Scott grabbed the whiteboard marker and began writing out bullet point tasks. “Raj, I want you to keep looking into the links between Hailey Bratton and her boyfriend. Anything that might suggest that he posed a danger to her.”

  Raj nodded and flicked through his notes.

  “Mike, go back over the phone records, student feedback and the CCTV footage of where she was last seen. Look for anyone who may have been stalking her or that she’d had run-ins with.”

  Mike nodded in agreement before interrupting Scott’s instructions. “Further enquiries on campus indicated that Freddie is hard-working, but has violent tendencies. Especially, when he’s had a few pints or a bit of the wacky baccy. The lecturers didn’t have a bad word to say about him. But some of the guys that he hung around with at the East Slope bar did say that he was a bit of peculiar character. Nice as pie when sober, but a real aggressive twat when he was stoned.”

  “Even more reason to look into him,” Scott suggested pointing in Raj’s direction.

  “I spoke to a few other female students,” Abby offered, looking at Mike. “I thought maybe it would be less confrontational, and maybe they’d open up more if they were talking to another female. And my hunch paid off.”

  “More like we didn’t want to frighten the female students with Mike staring down their tops!” Raj teased.

  Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Trust you to lower the tone of the conversation. Quite a few of them said he was a bit of a charmer. A ladies’ man when sober, but a real jerk and pervy when he was off his face. I’m going to be looking at his medical records, because one of the students said that Freddie suffers from bipolar and OCD.”

  Scott nodded approvingly. “Good call. Well, the OCD I probably agree with, because when we visited, I’d never seen a student room so tidy and immaculate. And when we interviewed him downstairs, he grimaced at the table and then looked at his hands before rubbing them raw. So something’s not quite right there.”

  “Well, I reckon he’s got major OCD, Guv,” Abby added. “Many of them commented on how he was obsessive about washing his hands and cleanliness. Apparently, he used to use the end of his sleeves to open doors because he didn’t want to touch the handles. He even went as far as cleaning the knives and forks with a serviette in the canteen because he didn’t feel they were clean. He wouldn’t even use other people’s equipment.”

  “I don’t know if you clocked it, but his room smelt like it had been sanitised in bleach. I noticed all his pens and pencils neatly aligned in a row on his desk,” Scott added.

  Helen took copious notes as she listened intently to the information flying back and forth between the surrounding officers. She felt a degree of frustration at having missed out on some of the earlier parts of the investigation. And now she was frantically trying to play catch-up.

  Abby continued as she flicked through her notes, keen to help the team to build a much clearer picture of Freddie. “He’s the son of a wealthy businessman who owns a high-tech company in Ipswich. Apparently, his dad contributes and donates financially towards good causes at the university. So his son’s misdemeanours are often overlooked.”

  “That’s a nice cosy arrangement,” Mike said, snorting as he rolled his eyes.

  “For that, Mike, you can do the digging around on his dad. Get the local officers to have a chat with his dad. See if we can find out more about Freddie including any mental health issues. And also see if Freddie ever mentioned Hailey to him.”

  Helen sat bolt upright when Scott turned in her direction. Her eyes were wide open, eager in anticipation. She was keen to please and excited to get the opportunity to get stuck into the investigation.

  “I want you to check the sex offenders register. Check any prisoners released in the past five years. See if anyone has a similar MO to the victims. Abby and I are going to be attending the post-mortem this morning. I think it would be a good idea for you to attend as well.”

  Scott noticed the unease and the pained expression on Helen’s face at the suggestion. “Not been to many?”

  Helen shook her head. “To be honest, Guv, I’ve only been to a few, and not handled them too well. It’s the s
mell of those places. The last PM I attended was on a body in an advanced stage of decomposition. I passed out when they cut through the skull and the putrefied brain poured out.”

  Abby leant over and squeezed Helen’s arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there with you. And if I’m honest, I don’t really like those places either.”

  Helen felt reassured by the support and smiled weakly. This was the part of her job she hated. The last thing she wanted was the constant ribbing from her new team for backing out, or worse, throwing up and fainting. It was going to be a challenging morning.

  13

  The morning was racing away as Scott, Abby and Helen arrived at the mortuary. The early morning warmth had been replaced by brilliant, hot sunshine that caused them all to squint as they stepped out of the car.

  After being buzzed in, they made their way towards the prep room. It was there that they got the first sign that it had been a busy morning at the mortuary.

  Abby scrunched up a nose and quickly placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit. That reeks,” she managed to say as her eyes watered. The usual cloying smell mixed with an overture of disinfectant and air fresheners, had been replaced by a dense acrid scent. It coated the back of her throat, and immediately prompted the gag reflex.

  The other two didn’t look too clever either. Scott looked sympathetically towards Helen, her face drained of life and looking decidedly grey and unwell. “You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Helen clenched her jaws tight and nodded furiously as her stomach turned over. A cold sweat flushed her face. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself in front of her two senior officers. She leant against the wall and closed her eyes desperate to regain some form of composure and her mind spun like a vortex.

  “It smells like there are a million dead and rotting rats around us. Anyone would think that a baby’s nappy had been left out in the sun for three weeks.” Abby shook her head desperate to shake off the fogginess that clouded her mind.

  Scott shook his head and cleared his throat several times. It was a desperate attempt to shake off the stench that threatened to cling to every pore of his body and permanently attach itself to the inside of his nostrils. “The sooner we can get this over and done with, the sooner we can get out and get some lunch.”

  Abby stopped and stared at Scott in bewilderment, her mouth wide open. “Are you for real? What is it with post-mortems and food? Every time we come out to one, you always have to bring up the subject of food. I then have to sit there and watch you stuff your face afterwards.”

  Scott smiled and shrugged unapologetically. “What can I say? I love my food.”

  “Screw and loose, come to mind personally,” Abby replied.

  Helen watched the exchange and smiled faintly. The banter between her two senior officers provided a light distraction from her own feelings. She blew out through puffed cheeks, relieved that she had managed to keep some form of composure from the smell.

  “Ah, welcome to the party you three. I thought you’d never get here,” Cara said as she glanced up momentarily, her hands buried deep inside the abdomen of the cadaver.

  “Dr Hall, this is DC Helen Swift, the newest member of our team. We didn’t really get a proper opportunity to introduce you to her last night. DC Swift, this is Dr Cara Hall, our pathologist.”

  Cara nodded enthusiastically in Helen’s direction. “No need to be so formal, call me Cara. Are you okay with me calling you Helen?”

  With her hands tightly wrapped around her chest, Helen shook her head several times; her eyes wide open as they flicked between Cara and the cadaver just a few feet in front of her.

  “Have you been cooking again, Cara?” Scott teased as he wafted his hand several times in front of his nose.

  “Flattery won’t get you anywhere…And I’d be careful if I was you. You’re heavily outnumbered, three to one, so I don’t rate your chances.” Cara’s eyes sparkled wickedly as she glanced at Abby and Helen.

  “Sorry about the smell. We had a pretty heavy job in this morning. A middle-aged man died in suspicious circumstances. Somewhere out towards Eastbourne if I recollect. Unfortunately, they couldn’t fit him in quick enough for a PM, so they asked us to help out.”

  “Bad one, huh?”

  “You could say that. To be honest Neil and I both found it a challenge, too.” Cara glanced towards Neil, who scrunched up his eyes as he pushed his thick-rimmed glasses back up his nose. “The poor fella had been dead for more three weeks. He had the whole shebang, flying insects, larvae, maggots and was leaking everywhere.”

  The officers exchanged uncomfortable glances as their minds vividly imagined the scene that uniformed colleagues had discovered.

  “Poor bugger, they had had to remove the sofa…he’d seeped into it.”

  Scott had heard enough detail for one day and raised his hand to confirm it. “What can you tell us about the body?”

  The body of the victim was laid out on the mortuary table like a museum exhibit. The work of the mortuary team was already at an advanced stage. Her chest and abdomen cavity had been opened up in the traditional Y pattern. Using Cara’s preferred method of investigation, the Rokitansky’s Technique, all of her internal organs had been removed in one whole process to be measured and weighed.

  Random small flesh bites peppered her body, fully visible in the daylight. Scott concentrated hard on her face, which to him now clearly resembled Hailey Bratton. With her hair neatly combed off her face, her tight, youthful blemish-free skin still offered a delicate attractiveness. Her once red, fiery hair now lay limp and dull.

  “Okay, let me take you through what I’ve found so far. The cause of death is definitely blood loss. The carotid artery was severed, so she would have dropped within a matter of minutes through the excessive blood loss.” Cara then moved further down towards the cadaver’s feet. She lifted and twisted one foot to highlight the heel. “There are strong abrasions on both heels, and traces of what appears to be a thick black oily substance.”

  “Ideas?” Scott enquired.

  “It’s hard to say, some type of black thick residue. I’ve taken a scraping and will send it off for analysis.”

  Abby jotted details down in her notepad. “Do you know what caused the abrasions?”

  Cara sighed and dropped her head to one side. “My guess is that she was probably dragged along the ground. There’s fresh bruising under her armpits and around the top of her chest. That would suggest that someone had grabbed her under the arms and moved or dragged her.”

  Abby shrugged and nodded at the suggestion.

  “There’s an indication of some type of sexual assault. They’re scratches on the insides of her thighs close to her vagina, and some internal abrasions in line with forced penetration of some sorts. There are no distinctive tears, so I wouldn’t imagine that any type of instrument was used. We’ve taken internal samples to see if we can find any DNA. I’ve also taken scrapings from under her fingernails and toenails.”

  Scott noticed that certain parts of the cadaver’s skin had red irritation and tiny blistering. He pointed at them silently to catch Cara’s attention.

  “I’m not sure about them. They seem to cover large sections of her body. Neil, if you could?”

  Together, Cara and Neil rolled the cadaver towards them, so the three officers could examine her back. “As you can see, there’s a rash on the back of her arms, her back, shoulders, buttocks and her calves in particular. Again, I’ve taken skin scrapings, so hopefully that will throw up a clearer idea of what caused them.”

  The post-mortem continued for some time after as Cara went through her investigations. Scott and the team made their excuses and left when Cara was unable to identify any further trauma or injury worth noting.

  Scott, Abby and Helen grabbed a corner table in the Munch coffee shop not far from the police station. Abby and Helen sat stony-faced shaking their heads in disbelief as Scott heartedly tucked into a melted ham and cheese pa
nini. They had valiantly fought hard to keep the contents of their stomachs down during the post-mortem. But now found themselves once again looking away as stringy bits of cheese hung down loosely from Scott’s panini and clung to his chin. Helen had passed on ordering anything other than a strong cup of black coffee, which in itself was proving hard to take down on her already unsettled stomach.

  Scott wiped away breadcrumbs from around his mouth and then proceeded to wash down the contents of his mouth with a large, loud gulp of his tea.

  “Do you have to be so noisy when you eat?” Abby protested.

  “You always have something to whinge about. I just offered to buy you a full fry up, or an egg and sausage sandwich. In fact, anything on the menu, but you moaned it would make you fat!” Scott teased.

  Abby gave him one of her sarcastic smiles. Normally she would have continued with “Fuck you” but with Helen present, she held her tongue. She turned to Helen and said, “Sorry that was a bit of a tough PM. I’d like to say that they get easier, but they don’t. It doesn’t matter how many PMs you go to, the sights and smells seriously spoil your day, but they are a necessary must. And it’s often made worse by the fact that we end up going to eat afterwards. Don’t we, Guv!” Abby’s voice spat out the last three words.

  Scott ignored Abby’s dig, and choose instead to go and settle up at the counter.

  “So what made you choose Brighton?” Abby asked.

  Helen shrugged. “I’d been with Cambridgeshire for quite a while, and I just needed a fresh challenge. It made sense to move to a new area and I love being by the sea too. I could push myself a bit with new methods of policing, a new patch and hopefully a different set of problems. Naïvely I thought it might be a bit quieter here,” Helen said with a conspiratorial wink.

  “Erm, I think you’ll find that it’s anything but quiet down here. We cover a really big patch. We’ve got over two hundred entry points along the coast, so drug and human trafficking is quite a big one for us.”