Tasteful (A Kate Redman Mystery Novella)

by Celina Grace

  “Right, first. Of course. Our foot.” She added a few details for those, like Martin, who hadn’t had a chance to review the case file yet. “Any news from our friends at the path lab yet?”

  Rav had rung them. “Nothing yet. They’re a bit swamped under with cases from other districts.”

  Theo scoffed. “It’s hardly going to take a long time, is it? “Ooh, look, a foot. It’s dead.”

  Everyone laughed. Kate shook her head at Theo. “All right, well, someone follow up on that. Rav? Like Theo says it won’t take a long time,” she added, mindful of the approaching Cheetham baby.

  “I will.”

  “I’ll do MISPER,” offered Chloe and then laughed again. “But perhaps we better wait for the DNA first and do that database. I highly doubt anyone’s reported a foot missing.”

  Kate couldn’t help smiling. “Probably not. God, I’m a bit stumped. How do you go about looking for a foot’s owner?”

  “Ha, ha,” said Theo, smirking.

  Kate looked at him. “What?”

  “Oh, I thought you making a joke. Stump, you know.”

  Kate stared blankly for him. “No.”

  “Oh.” After a moment he added, “It wasn’t funny anyway.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “I think, realistically, the only thing we can do is wait for the path lab results and the DNA test. Theo, you may as well get on with whatever’s more urgent.” Right in the nick of time, she remembered their new recruit. “Martin, can you do a search of all the bases and search engines just in case anyone else has had this type of thing? It’s a faint hope but—” Martin nodded eagerly. Kate smiled at him. “Right, anyone gets anything let me know. If the press call, just give them the bare facts and a ‘can’t comment further’ type of thing.” She pushed herself away from table she’d been leaning on and added, with an ironic tilt of the head towards her desk, “I’ll be in my office.”

  Kate was greeted by the welcome smell of roast chicken wafting from the kitchen as she got home that night. Since his ‘retirement’, Anderton had turned into something of a gourmet chef and Kate was never less than grateful. As she put it to him once, she could burn water.

  “Hi,” she called, unzipping her boots and placing them in a neat pair by the coat rack. Her cat, Merlin, came to greet her, twining like a black ribbon around her ankles. Kate bent to rub behind his ears.

  “Hi,” said Anderton, appearing in the kitchen doorway.

  Kate groaned. “Do you have to wear that apron?”

  “Yes,” said Anderton with some dignity, given he was wearing an apron that said ‘Kiss the Cook’.

  With a theatrical sigh, Kate did as the apron told her.

  “Bad day?” Anderton asked. “Come into the kitchen, I’ve got to do a few things.

  Kate sat down at the kitchen table, thankful to be off her feet. She told Anderton what she could about the case while he basted the chicken and turned the roast potatoes. Kate’s stomach rumbled.

  “Bad day?” repeated Anderton.

  “Not bad,” said Kate, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Just – frustrating, I guess. I mean – a foot. For God’s sake...”

  “It’s a first,” said Anderton, drily.

  “Rav’s got the PM tomorrow.” An image of the foot marooned in the middle of a hospital gurney in the autopsy room occurred to Kate. It was almost sad, in a way. “So we might know more then.” She took a long, grateful sip of the pinot noir. “Still, we didn’t find anything else, thank God, so there’s that to be thankful for.”

  After dinner they retired to the living room. Although the day had been warm, the nights were still very much not, and Kate was grateful for the fire that Anderton had got burning in the grate.

  “Oh, by the way,” Anderton said, pulling Kate towards him, “That house we liked is already under offer.”

  Kate looked at him in dismay. “Oh, no. I loved that one.”

  “It might not go through. Also it was a bit over budget.”

  “I know, I said that myself. But – damn.” Kate snuggled her head into his broad shoulder. “Why is house buying in this country so stressful?”

  “Because estate agents are bastards.”

  Kate laughed. “That’s not why.” She paused and added, “Well, we’re so quiet at the moment, apart from this bloody foot, we could do some more viewings?”

  “I’ll set some up.” Anderton paused to kiss her, lingeringly. “And now, if your dinner has settled, why don’t we go up to bed?”

  “Good idea.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Spring was back with a vengeance the next day; blue skies, whipped-cream clouds, sunlight refracting off the dew jewelling the grass on the lawn. Kate drank her coffee, kissed Anderton goodbye and set off for work on foot, determined to make the most of the good weather.

  It was another quiet morning in the office. Rav was attending the PM, Theo was off interviewing witnesses and Olbeck was in another meeting. Kate asked Chloe to take Martin through the various systems the team had in place in the meantime, and actually managed to clear her in-tray for once. She was regarding its emptiness with satisfaction when Rav returned.

  “Anything?” asked Kate.

  Rav shook his head. “Not much. Apparently it’s been treated with some sort of preservative, like formaldehyde or something like that. Kirsten’s running some more tests but she said we wouldn’t be able to get any DNA from it because of that.”

  Kate frowned. “Oh. That’s a bugger. Is she sure?” She dismissed the speculation a second later. Dr Kirsten Telling was very good at her job. “Okay, well if she says we can’t, we can’t, I suppose. Damn.”

  Rav was already wandering back to his desk. “She’ll send the report over later.” He added over his shoulder with a grin, “It’ll be quite short.”

  “Won’t it just.” Kate rolled her eyes and turned back to her computer just as the office phone rang. She reached out for it but Rav beat her too it, so she shrugged and looked again at her emails.

  She was reading one from HR regarding some dreadful sounding team-building day (had the administrators who organised these things not realised they were entirely counter-productive? Nothing made you despise your fellow workers more than having to do some feeble role-play and ‘trust’ exercises in some grim little council hall in the middle of nowhere...) when she heard Rav exclaim loudly and looked up.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he was saying, churning his thick black hair in a way that reminded Kate of Anderton. She sat up, nerves buzzing and waited impatiently until he’d finished the call.

  “Well?” she asked, the second Rav put down the receiver.

  He looked at her and half laughed. “You won’t believe it.”

  “What?”

  “They’ve found another foot.”

  It was Kate’s turn to churn her hair. “What?” she said again.

  “I’m serious. Some kids playing in the recreation ground at Atherton park found another foot. Just the one, cut off at the ankle.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Kate unconsciously echoed Rav’s exact words. She got up, throwing her hands up in the air. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I have absolutely no idea. Someone’s idea of a sick joke?”

  “But where are they getting the feet, if so? Who just has feet lying around?” Kate and Rav regarded each other for a moment and then collapsed into giggles.

  “I shouldn’t laugh,” said Kate, collecting herself after a moment. “I know we haven’t found anything else but these are human – I mean...” She trailed away, not sure of where her thoughts were taking her.

  “Do you want me to go?” asked Rav.

  “Yes, you’d better.” Kate regarded the empty office and shrugged. “Chloe’s busy with Martin and I really should get on with stuff.”

  “No problem.” Rav reached for his jacket just as his mobile phone buzzed and clattered on his desk. He reached for it, opened up the message and gasped. “Oh my God.”

  “
What is it?”

  “Jarina’s gone into labour! Oh my God, oh my God—”

  “Oh, Rav...” Kate caught his excitement and anxiety as if by osmosis. Her stomach flipped. “Oh, that’s so exciting!”

  “Shit, shit, I have to go—”

  “What did she say? If she’s texting you, it can’t be that urgent...” Rav held out his phone in a shaking hand and Kate read the message. “Look, you idiot, she’s telling you not to rush, she’s not even going to the hospital yet.” Looking at Rav, dancing from foot to foot, Kate could see she was wasting her breath. “Look, head on home, why don’t you?”

  Rav looked at her, pleadingly. “Can I?”

  “Of course, silly.” Privately, Kate knew he’d be absolutely no use to her now, in this state of mind. Not that she could blame him. “Go on, go home and keep me posted. I’m so excited for you!”

  Rav barely stayed for the hug she gave him before grabbing his stuff and running from the office. Kate yelled after him “And drive safely! Jarina wants you there in one piece.”

  Shaking her head and grinning, she returned to her desk and tried to concentrate on work. Another foot? This was getting more bizarre by the day. After a moment’s thought, she went to find Chloe and Martin, who she found in the evidence room.

  “Another one?” were Chloe’s first words, after Kate explained the situation. Martin said nothing but raised his eyebrows.

  “I know – bizarre isn’t the word.” Kate wondered about mentioning Rav’s news, but decided it could wait for the moment.

  “Shall we go?” asked Chloe, gesturing to her companion.

  That had been Kate’s original thought but she had a lightening change of mind. “Actually, Chloe, I’ll go and I’ll take Martin with me. Can you man the office?”

  “I can woman it,” said Chloe, with a grin.

  Kate held up a fist in feminist solidarity. “Good woman. Right, Martin, come along with me.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Josh Kirkwood crouched in the shadow of the laurel hedge, propping himself against the garden wall. He was cold, damp and uncomfortable. This was the second time he’d hidden himself here – the first was three days ago, when he was scoping out the house, checking out the security, looking for weak spots, gazing through the ground floor windows at the treasures within. He knew money when he saw it and this house, a monolith of golden Bath stone, reeked of money, oozed it. Josh shifted position, inhaling the night scents; the damp earthy smell of the rotten leaves beneath his boots, sharp tang of cat piss beneath the laurel hedge. As he waited, he thought he saw a cat trot across the dew-silvered lawn but another glance showed him it was a fox, sharp-faced and smaller than he expected. It turned its head quickly towards him and he caught the flash of moonlight off its eyes as it looked into his, although he hadn’t moved or made a sound, as far as he was aware.

  The porch light of the house clicked on, spreading warm golden light over the gravel driveway and onto the car that was parked there, an old but beautifully kept Jaguar. Josh wanted that car, wanted it very badly but it was no use. He was no car thief and something like that was far, far too noticeable to sell on. He pressed himself back into the shade as he heard the front door open and the owner of the house step out.

  “I’ll be back before midnight, Mother,” called the man, back into the depths of the house. Josh strained his ears but couldn’t hear any reply. No matter, he’d watched the old lady from this vantage point on several occasions and knew she always made her way up to her bedroom at nine o’clock sharp. He just had to sit tight for a few more minutes, let that bloke get far enough away and then sneak in through that dodgy window round the side. There was some lovely stuff in the living room and dining room and Josh knew a fence or two who’d be able to make good use of anything he got.

  After ten minutes, he knew matey in the Jag wouldn’t return. Stifling a groan as he pushed himself into a standing position, he stood for a moment, rubbing life back into his legs. Then, hefting his small backpack, he crept across the dark lawn towards the side of the house, where the window with the broken latch lay hidden from view by an overgrown bush. This whole garden needed a good seeing to, thought Josh, and felt an not-unpleasant surge of dislike for the house’s owners. People shouldn’t be allowed nice stuff if they weren’t even going to take care of it.

  Cautiously, he crept back to the front of the house again and peeped through the window of what he knew was the living room. Again, he was struck by the beautiful design, the plushness of the velvet curtains, the Persian rug covering the well-polished old floorboards, the mellowed leather of the Chesterfield that stood facing the dying fire. Tasteful, very tasteful. Josh appreciated good taste, especially when he could avail himself of some of it for cold, hard cash.

  A guard had been placed in front of the hearth and as Josh watched, the overhead chandelier was switched off, the golden light extinguished in a blink. That meant the old girl was making her way up to bed. Josh crept forward a little more, straining his ears. He was sure he could hear the creak of the stairs as she made her slow, uncertain way up them. He looked at his phone, noting the time. Give it twenty minutes for her to get properly settled and then on we go...

  Twenty minutes in the cold and dark dragged. Josh was desperate for a fag, even for a pull on his vape but no dice – he couldn’t risk anyone smelling either smoke or blueberry flavoured vapour. Shifting from foot to foot, trying to keep warm, the thought occurred to him that there was possibly an easier way to make a living. But then, what did he know about that? He’d been brought up in crime, tutored in it by his father and uncles. There was literally nothing else he knew how to do.

  He prided himself on his work, though. Nobody ever got hurt. No smashing the place up or leaving something disgusting behind. He knew a few guys who thought nothing of stealing women’s underwear, taking a shit in the bathtub or worse, on the floor. Gross. Junkies, most of them. Josh wouldn’t give most of them the time of day. He wasn’t like that. He preferred not to steal jewellery – it was sentimental, even if it weren’t valuable, right? There was such a thing as having pride in your work, even if you were a burglar.

  Eventually, the time ticked by and Josh pulled out his tools, inserting the screwdriver into the minute gap between the bottom of the window frame and the window sill, greened with moss and lichen. He’d tested this out before, without going inside, and again, the window went up fairly smoothly and quietly. He only opened it enough for him and his backpack to slip inside. Luckily, he was slim; too thin really – he needed to go to the gym more, but that was difficult when you worked nights and slept during the day.

  Inside the house, he paused, listening. He could hear the very faint sound of a television overhead, which was good – it was cover for any noise he made, although God knew he was experienced enough now not to go blundering into furniture or tripping over cables or whatever. He knew for a fact that the owners had no dog. Josh wouldn’t dream of burgling a house with a dog; a) because dogs barked at and sometimes attacked intruders and b) Josh liked dogs and would never want to be a situation where he’d have to hurt them.

  He crept through the house cautiously, making for the living room. His backpack was deceptively capacious and he carried several other fold up bags in which to take smaller treasures. He paused at the entrance to the living room – or would it be that old fashioned term, drawing room, in this stately place? Who cared? Josh longed to turn on the light, to gaze at all the wonderful things inside the room but knew he couldn’t. So tasteful. What he wouldn’t give to live in a house like this, surrounded by beauty. As if. He couldn’t even afford to move out of the council house he still shared with his parents. His mum kept it neat and clean as a new pin, but it was cramped and tatty, all the same. The chances of him ever owning – or even renting – a place like this was laughable. Not unless he pulled off some huge, daring heist, like Brink’s Mat or the Hatton Garden robbery. Why hadn’t his old man ever organised something like that? He didn’t thi
nk big, his dad, that was the problem...

  Shaking off these thoughts, Josh moved slowly and carefully through the room, picking the choicest pieces, those that he could carry, anyway. He longed for the grand piano in the corner but what as the use? Stealthily, he opened drawers, hoping perhaps for cash or credit cards but there was nothing useful in the chest of drawers that he searched, only a few bottles of spirits which, after a moment, he added to his backpack.

  At the back of the room was a set of double doors. Josh approached, checking all the while for alarms and cameras. There was nothing. Carefully, he opened one of the doors and looked through, shining the thin white beam of his torch into the room. It was a study, walls lined with books and a heavy mahogany desk sat square in the middle of the Persian carpet. Josh slowly swung his torch light across the room, checking for anything to steal. Then he froze.

  In the middle of the desk, there was a large glass jar, very large, the kind that Josh had seen when his dad started making home brew. Something floated within it. Josh, holding his breath, approached closer, unaware that the torch had begun to jitter. He stared at the jar, illuminated now by the strobing light in his shaking hand. He hadn’t been mistaken, not at all.

  In the jar on the desk, was a human head.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kate and Martin drove back to the station from viewing the crime scene in thoughtful calm. Kate was pleased to find that Martin was one of those rare people with which she could share a comfortable silence, even though she barely knew him. Compared to Theo’s restlessness (not to mention his penchant for playing appalling drum and bass on the car stereo) and even Chloe’s sometimes wearying intensity, it made a pleasant change to be able to drive in restful quiet. Her mind replayed the events of the last hour.