by Carol Wyer
‘I know. I was hoping beyond hope there’d be a phone, we’d discover he rang Eugene to blackmail him, and we’d be closer to closing the case.’
‘Well, there’s no sign of any word written on his forehead, and we know both Valentine and BJ were hunting for him. My guess is they found him before we did.’
‘That’s it though, isn’t it? It’s only a guess. We don’t have any concrete evidence to support our theories.’
‘We’ll find Valentine and BJ again and question them.’
Lucy gave a small huff. ‘They’re going to deny it. You know they are, and they’ll make sure they have cast-iron alibis.’
‘There might be some DNA or evidence on Tommy’s body to incriminate them,’ Murray insisted.
‘And the Tooth Fairy might actually be real. Come on, Murray, you know we’re fucked. Tommy was our only suspect and now we won’t find out for certain if he was the killer. Whoever bumped him off has right royally stuffed our investigation.’ She stormed off towards the steps, where Natalie stopped her.
‘This is a setback, nothing more than that.’
‘Fucking enormous one though, isn’t it?’ muttered Lucy, and she marched on.
Natalie let her go. It was understandable she was frustrated. While she waited for Mike to arrive, she checked in with Pinkney. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any evidence he had any writing on his forehead?’
‘If he did, it washed off.’
‘Is there no trace of biro at all?’
‘Not a thing.’
Natalie wondered how likely it would be for all the writing to be washed away. The canal wasn’t a fast-flowing river and there were no currents in play to rub off any ink. In her experience, it required a certain amount of friction to remove it. A greater likelihood was that there had been no writing, a thought that was interrupted by a ping and message from Josh. She hadn’t seen him before she’d left for work and was pleased to hear from him.
Hi Mum.
Met Dad and his girlfriend, Sara, last night for a drink.
She’s okay. Really okay.
He invited us all for a meal with them next weekend. I said I thought it’d be okay. Hope it is. 7.30 p.m. Saturday. His place.
Maybe see you later. I’ll be late home again tonight. Going to the library.
Love you. X
Josh was, once again, behaving in a mature manner, and she was quietly proud of his reaction. It seemed they were all moving on, gradually piecing their lives back together after the dreadful fallout of Leigh’s death. David’s attempted suicide the year before, thwarted by Mike, had scared her witless and, ever since, she’d feared for his sanity and life, but for the first time since then, she experienced a sense of relief. That worry was no longer in play. As if conjured by her thoughts, Mike appeared, swinging his metal forensic case and trotting towards the quay.
‘Penny for them,’ he said.
‘Got a text from Josh. He met David’s girlfriend, Sara.’
‘Ah, what’s she like? David mentioned seeing somebody but hasn’t told me anything about her.’
‘According to Josh – nice.’
‘Nice is good.’
‘We’ve been invited to his place for a meal, Saturday evening. No doubt to meet her too.’
‘Should work out. I’m not rostered, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Good, we’ll let him know it’s a goer. Must like her if he’s planning on introducing us to her. Right, to business. Who do we have here?’
‘Tommy Field. Cause of death unknown and there’s no identification, phone, wallet or anything on his person. We’re guessing it’s him because of the description we’ve had of him from others, but we’ve not had it confirmed.’
‘No one we can ask to identify him?’
‘No relatives we know of. The tech team contacted everyone in Dorset called Field and didn’t unearth anyone who knew of him.’
‘What about work?’
She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t look like he worked anywhere.’
‘He must have earned money before he got Amelia and Katie on the game, unless he claimed benefits.’
‘We tried the Department for Work and Pensions but slammed against another wall.’
‘Then he must have worked on the black and got cash in hand.’
Natalie raised the collar of her jacket to protect her neck and throat against the cold wind. Strands of hair had broken free from her hair clip and danced against her face and in her eyes, making her blink furiously. ‘It’s not so much where he worked now as whether or not he committed those murders.’
‘I’ve left a team in and around the toilets at Prince’s Park. There are a lot of fingerprints, and DNA, as you can imagine, but we’ve sent back those we’ve found so far and are running them through the database for matches. If Tommy attacked Eugene, he might have left behind some evidence.’
‘He’s been one step ahead of us and ultra-cautious until now. I can’t imagine he’d be careless enough to leave dabs.’
‘For somebody who’s been cunning up to this point, he must have let down his guard. He certainly didn’t bank on getting thrown to the fishes.’
Natalie was frozen to the spot as she digested his words, then unfixed herself with another blink and said, ‘That’s right. Tommy would undoubtedly have guessed either BJ or Valentine, or both of them, would be hunting him down and would definitely have made sure he wasn’t hiding anywhere that pair would think of. I wonder…’
‘Wonder what?’
‘If Tommy is actually responsible for all those deaths.’
Lucy had decided to head back to Holborn House. The investigation was an unmitigated disaster. Other than conjecture, they had no physical evidence to connect Tommy to the murders. She had to update the superintendent and there was no time like the present; however, she wanted to check on something first, so she sidled past the shut door and mounted the U-shaped staircase to the technicians’ labs. There were four rooms in total, each containing various equipment that was beyond her operational skills. This was the domain of the geeks and she could only marvel at what they could learn from the latest technological devices.
She tried the largest of the four rooms, where huge monitors displayed CCTV and surveillance footage at the push of a button. It reminded her of a recording studio, a mixing deck of knobs and switches, allowing the operator to zoom in or out, or change location with the merest flick of a finger. A young male officer, in heavy-framed glasses, sat in the darkened room, neck craned as he searched through images of roads in the centre of Samford. A reusable thermal mug sat on the table next to an open family-sized bag of crisps, which he periodically delved into, rustling as he pulled out the potato chips and popped them into his mouth without taking his eyes off the screens. His other hand worked the controls, and the pictures changed from overhead shots of Upper Way to a side shot of the road, to another view of Kilburn Rise, making Lucy feel dizzy.
‘How do you manage to look at all the screens simultaneously?’
‘Practice, guv.’ He didn’t move his head, his keen eyes hunting for anything that would give them a clue as to Tommy’s movements.
‘Sorry to break your concentration but have you received Eugene’s bank account details?’
‘Yes, guv. He didn’t make any withdrawals at all the last two weeks. The last one was two weeks ago and for two hundred pounds, which he took out of a cashpoint on Upper Way.’
‘No large amounts of money then to pay off a blackmailer? What about his business account?’
‘We checked it too. No anomalies.’
‘What about the charity money, the money they raise from their annual charity auction?’
‘Goes directly into an account held for the hospital. The Hardys didn’t have any access to it.’
‘Then it appears Eugene didn’t succumb to any blackmailing demands. Good work.’
Armed with the information, she clattered back downstairs, steeled herself and knocked on Dan
’s door with a confidence she didn’t actually feel, entering when she detected a curt, ‘Come in.’
The room was more majestic than her own, and although it was equally modern, Dan had personalised it with photographs of himself and other high-ranking officials, framed certificates and a couple of awards on a shelf beside his desk. He set aside the report he’d been reading and steepled his fingers.
‘DI Carmichael.’
‘We’ve discovered a body in the canal which we believe to be Tommy Field. We can’t be sure how he died, but the pathology report will certainly reveal if he was killed and if it happened before he entered the water. If that turns out to be the case, we strongly suspect that either Valentine Stewart or a drug dealer, known only by the initials BJ, might be responsible for his death, as both men were in search of him.’
‘And why might they kill him?’
‘We understand there was a sort of turf war between Tommy and Valentine, and as for BJ, he was owed almost a thousand pounds for drugs purchased by Tommy.’
He tapped the ends of his fingers together thoughtfully. Having decided she needed to explain how she felt, Lucy barrelled on. ‘We were told Tommy intended getting blackmail money from either Rachel or Eugene to repay his loan, but having checked Eugene’s and Rachel’s accounts, we can find no evidence any money was withdrawn for this payment.’ She paused, unsure of how much more she should tell him.
‘Please continue.’
‘If Eugene met Tommy and refused to pay him, it might have been enough to induce the attack on him. We have a picture of a man, a habitual drug taker who will do anything to feed his habit and who is not in control of his temper when pushed, making it plausible he went ballistic and killed Eugene, and yet… our killer is methodical and intelligent, and to be honest… I don’t think Tommy matches the profile we’ve been building.’
Dan ceased his tapping. ‘You’ve been chasing after Tommy Field since the beginning of the investigation, and now you’ve found him, you’re backtracking! Why is that? Is it because he’s dead and you can’t extract a confession? Examine the facts, Inspector.’ He counted them off on his fingers. ‘He was spotted arguing with Amelia around the time she was killed. His girls solicited in locations that link them to all three of the other victims. He has remained untraceable and off your radar ever since the first murder. Add to all of this the fact he intended extorting a considerable amount of money from Eugene, probably to make good his escape, and you have a suspect fitting your profile – somebody cunning and slippery.’
‘It’s not enough, sir. We have insufficient evidence to categorically state he was responsible. Besides, there’s the matter of his drug-taking. Some of those we spoke to said he was often high on drugs. A man like that wouldn’t be able to be as clear-headed and calculating as we believe the killer to be.’
‘You’re clouding the issue with hypotheses. Who told you he was high? Drug dealers and prostitutes. It’s all hearsay. You don’t know for a fact he was as big a user as you think. You can’t even be certain he wasn’t selling the drugs on.’
‘No, sir.’
‘You’re still awaiting evidence, aren’t you?’
‘Yes… but—’
‘The way I see it, this is looking good for you. You found the person with means and motive. It’s unfortunate he’s dead but there has never been anyone else in the frame for these murders, and the fact the ends don’t all tie into neat little bows isn’t relevant. Find out if he was killed or threw himself in the canal because he knew there were no other options left for him. I want a report as soon as possible, and as soon as I have it, I shall inform the press of the situation.’
Lucy began to open her mouth but was once again stopped by Dan, who aimed his index finger at her like a shotgun. ‘Get the report to me. I want it clear-cut that the sole suspect in this enquiry has been located.’
‘Sir.’
As she turned to leave, he spoke out again. ‘You know this is a good result for you, DI Carmichael. It was beginning to look messy there for a while. You should be grateful Tommy’s been recovered from the canal. It would have been an unadulterated disaster if he hadn’t been.’
She left the office and stamped back to her own, where she slammed the desk with curled fists. This isn’t the way it should be done! Dan wants the department to look good, but accusing the wrong person means the real killer will get away with it or, even worse, strike again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tuesday, 5 November – Afternoon
Natalie didn’t often attend the autopsies in the pathology lab. It wasn’t because she was squeamish, rather that at the time post-mortems were being carried out, she was invariably buried in the investigation itself with no time to observe.
Pinkney was working below her, and through the glass of the observation post, the white walls in the laboratory glistened like freshly fallen snow on a sunny day. The silver instruments and dishes gleamed, and Pinkney, a masked and suited figure, moved about the room with ease, like a seasoned dancer who knew all the moves by rote and exercised them with precision.
He spotted her arrival and acknowledged her, his voice amplified in the room where she stood, watching him. Tommy’s body had been cut open, internal organs now exposed, and having removed them, Pinkney was now examining the lungs.
‘No sign of emphysema aquosum,’ he said. ‘Your man did not drown. He was dead before he hit the water.’
‘Any idea of how he was killed?’
‘There’s significant damage to neck structures and the hyoid bone is broken.’
‘Strangulation?’
‘Correct.’
‘What about all the marks on his body, missing fingers and strips of flesh pulled off? Were they caused by fish?’
‘I would say they were. There’s no evidence of any knife having been used, and the rips and tears in the flesh are grouped in patches as if he was fed on. There are also tiny teeth marks on some of the remaining flesh where it was tugged and pulled at.’
‘You fish as a hobby, don’t you?’
‘I do, although not canals. I fish rivers, largely in Scotland. Trout and salmon.’
‘Is it normal for fish to eat a human?’
‘I’ve only come across something like this once before – a body left in the sea for several days. I wouldn’t expect a sole fish to attack a piece of flesh as large as a human. It’s more likely if there’s a shoal of fish, especially hungry ones. I’d say a large shoal of big fish attacked this cadaver.’
‘I didn’t think canal fish were carnivores.’
Pinkney looked at her, bloodied gloved hands on his hips. ‘Technically speaking, fish you’d find in a canal, such as tench, perch and even trout, are carnivores, feeding on aquatic insects and other fish, but I think these teeth marks were from pike and I believe there to be a significant population of pike in that particular canal.’ He peered at the scales where he’d placed the lungs and read out the weight for the recording device, running in the background. Natalie fell silent as he lifted the lungs and placed them in a metal dish then glided back to the open chest to remove the heart.
‘Can you make out any defence wounds?’
‘No, but there’s a great deal of bruising caused by needles. Your man really did have a serious drug habit.’
‘Thanks, Pinkney. I’ll make a move and leave you to it.’
‘You won’t stay for the second act?’ he quipped.
‘I’ll pass if you don’t mind.’
‘You’re always welcome to my performances.’
She raised a hand in departure. The fact Tommy had been strangled meant only one thing to her: the killer was still on the loose.
Lucy wasn’t going to give Dan his report, even if it meant being thrown off the case. He was wrong to insist on it, and given he couldn’t have it if she wasn’t in the building, she arranged an appointment with Rachel’s friend, Georgina King-White, owner of Heaven Scent Spa, for later in the day and took off to HQ to see if the
forensic team had found anything of interest.
It felt strange being back in the old place, with its huge atrium reception and familiarity that tugged at her. The urge to stop at the second floor, pass the multicoloured settee Murray joked about most days, and wander back into the office she’d shared with the old team was strong, and when the desk sergeant waved her through the automatic gates, she yearned for the clocks to be turned back. Heading up the wide, sunlit staircase, glancing out of the huge windows onto the main road below, and hesitating beside the drinks and snacks machine, she was transported to the weeks before the big move to Holborn House, when everything had felt exciting and fresh. This belonged to the past. She’d made her name as part of the team who’d worked here, but the future was in their new quarters – that was where she belonged. With each thought, she became taller and straighter, and by the time she reached the forensic laboratories, on the top floor, she was once more fully confident.
Quiet but methodical, Darshan Singh, who specialised in forensic odontology, was delighted to see her but not as pleased as his wife, Naomi, a slight woman who at five foot three only reached Lucy’s shoulders. She gave her a beaming smile. ‘It’s our favourite DI. You’ve been keeping us busy. You’re like a one-woman caped crusader, bringing in dead bodies from all over the city.’
Lucy smiled. ‘I ought to be bringing in criminals not dead bodies.’
‘One will follow the other,’ said Naomi, knowingly. ‘Actually, you’ve come at the right time. About five minutes ago, we received the toxicology reports for Katie and Amelia. I haven’t had a chance to look at them or send them to you because we’ve been sorting through fingerprints and DNA samples from the gents’ toilets in Prince’s Park.’
‘How are you getting on with them?’
Naomi nodded in Darshan’s direction. ‘Darshan, do you want to tell her the good news, or can I?’
