Skeeter was growing restless. She needed to see the body as a black van marked Private Ambulance had stopped further along the road. She needed to go now.
‘May we keep hold of this?’ April called whilst holding the paper aloft.
The CSM nodded and moved towards the van, which was awaiting instruction and stationed on the outside of the nearer gate. As April and Skeeter moved through the further gate, they were welcomed by a string of step plates that had been placed in a line from the gate to the body. They pulled on nitrile gloves. A dark blue semi-circular screen protected the corpse from the open side facing west and the sea that was clearly a mile away. Any one coming from the sea side would have a view, particularly when the press arrived. They could get where sand could not and so privacy had to be maintained. It was immediately obvious to them both that someone had swept a pathway that was clearly visible in the surface next to the plates. It appeared as if someone had deliberately concealed any evidence of footprints that would have easily been made within the soft sand. Areas along it were tagged using yellow, triangular numbered markers whilst others of different colours were situated around the site of the body. CSI operatives continued to work the area and photograph the scene. The doctor moved down the slope and nodded a greeting.
Skeeter spoke first.
‘Bloody stupid place to kill someone, on top of the mound. One side of this rough pyramid has a gentler slope otherwise it would be difficult to climb even for the more fleet of foot. Whatever the route chosen you’re going to leave more prints here than you would if you were walking on the surface of the moon. The attempt at erasing them is as clear as a bell.’
‘Maybe there’s your answer. The body wouldn’t be easily found up here and after a day or two of wind and rain, the prints would be gone. There’s no wind on the moon, Skeeter!’
Skeeter nodded. ‘True.’ She crouched looking at the soles of the dead man’s shoes. ‘Laces are undone on the left one. He could have had a nasty fall if he’d not been careful!’ She looked at April but perceived only a slight shake of the head. Her attempt at humour was either ignored or lost. She knew which. The doctor climbed back up the slope and briefly presented his findings.
‘Dead a few hours. Slice to the neck and the right side of the throat. The blade wasn’t deep but it dragged, destroying a key artery. From my experience the blade used was curved and exceptionally sharp in both the driving tip and the blade’s edge. Pathology will reveal more. Bled profusely where he fell on the top of this pile here. The body wasn’t moved post death. According to these guys, the killer has tried to mask the lower area by moving the sand and also covered the track in and out as I’m sure you’ve seen.’ The doctor wiped his brow. ‘Strange place to kill someone and he was killed here I can assure you of that simple fact. We know there were two from the drone footage, even considering the poor quality. The CSM believes they might be able to enhance the footage back at the lab. Unfortunately comes with buying a cheap drone, he tells me. Both walked in but only one walked out and what’s truly strange is there’s no evidence of a fight nor a struggle. A bit like an accepted execution.’
The senior CSI approached and caught the final sentence as the doctor was collecting his belongings. He moved back down the slope.
‘Not a pleasant thought, execution, but it certainly looks that way.’
The words put a chill down Skeeter’s neck. It was a chilling announcement considering where they stood. It brought back images of the Aztec sacrifices but this was not Tenochtitlan and she could not see the stone table on which the person was sacrificed. She could, however, see a similarity considering the mound on which they stood and the body before them. April seemed to just move on. Maybe she was right.
‘I don’t suppose the poor drone pilot expected to be involved in something like this. What do we have from the parking area to the front? I’m sure they didn’t walk here from Southport,’ April mused whilst pointing in the direction of the two gates.
‘It’s been checked. There are a number of tyre tread patterns visible along the periphery of those gate areas and they’ve been photographed. We can 3-D image them later and give you the feedback. The man’s wallet was checked and his identity confirmed from the image on his driver’s licence. You obviously hold those details. If you’re happy we need to get the body away. We’re nearly done here.’ He looked at both police officers optimistically.
‘Did you find his phone?’ April asked, already anticipating the response.
‘Nothing other than the wallet and a set of keys, clearly for his car and home – sorry, one other thing, his cap.’ He pointed to the base of the hill seaward. ‘Probably tumbled there when he fell. We’ll confirm that it’s his within our report.’
‘Thanks very much. There’s nothing else.’ April moved back along the step plates and watched as the ambulance moved onto the site.
They pulled off their gloves and stuffed them into a yellow clinical waste bag near the rear of one of the CSI vans.
‘We’ve been expecting to find Carla Sharpe’s body for the last couple of days and now we have Cameron Jennings. So, where the hell is our Carla? You don’t think, Skeeter, she could be the other person who was seen here, do you?’
‘Promise of sex on the beach, a quick shag and then …’ Skeeter responded with little conviction.
‘It’s happened before. We need to get the footage analysed and then we can say for definite.’
Skeeter asked the CSI if she could cross the area and stand on the highest part of the bunding. He consented. She left April to study the plan and make the necessary mental adjustments to ensure its accuracy. She then shot a short video of the area marking her position with an indentation on the map’s laminate cover.
The majority of the higher levels comprised rough sand and broken shells, the discarded material from the sand extraction; a sieving and washing process. Along the length, rain water had weathered cracks and formed deep ravines that followed no particular pattern. From this vantage point she could see the screen and the off-white coated figures milling around the mound. The bagged corpse was being lowered down the banking secured to a stretcher. It was when photographing the area that she spotted the one piece of natural colour growing within the whole desolate area. A solitary poppy swayed gently from the rough ground. The poignant meaning struck home hard. She had to check if it had been growing there naturally or if it had been recently planted. It had obviously grown there but she still photographed it.
Chapter 9
The plan April had received in the morning at the disused sand extraction site had been amended and added to the white board in the Incident Room that had quickly been established during the morning. Key links were added to the various boards. Now classed as a major crime, the missing person investigation would be stepped up rigorously within the enquiry but it was now secondary to the main line of investigation. April was now SIO of a potential double murder case, and with it came the resources and the responsibility. She looked at the photographs of both Carla Sharpe and Cameron Jennings. They stared back as if waiting for answers.
The keys found on Jennings had been for his home and his car. The car was now with CSI and the flat was in the process of being inspected by Forensics. DC Kasum Kapoor had been drafted to support the case and attached the latest findings on the murder from pathology. The CSI had been correct in his assumption. The murder weapon was described as a professional carpet fitters’ blade, long and concave with a sharp curved tip. The killer knew just where to insert and drag the blade along the victim’s neck. In this case, such force had been applied that it not only severed the external jugular vein but also the sternocleidomastoid muscle. It had then sliced but did not sever the common carotid artery and the internal jugular vein.
It was clear from the report that Jennings had been in a rush, as he had put on his sweater inside out. This could happen to anyone who was either frightened for themselves or for others. His phone record indicated that he had rec
eived an early call from Carla Sharpe’s phone. It could be surmised that he was heading out to see her. What was not clear to the Forensic Team was the condition of his shoes. They were new. One was not properly tied whilst the other was slightly downtrodden at the back. This would have made both driving and walking especially difficult and uncomfortable, considering the slope leading to the spot where he was found. Neither did they contain any trace of the ground from that immediate area. What was found were clear traces of a loamy soil contaminated with elements of clay. This, according to their records, was compatible with and therefore more likely to be found on the farmland of the Lancashire Plain. The cap contained his DNA.
April and Tony looked through the findings.
‘We need to move Carla Sharpe’s missing person status up to high risk level. Like Jennings, I want access to her phone as I need live site data. Get the phone pinged so we know if or when it’s used. We need to locate where it is and hopefully, we’ll know where she is.’
Tony put in the call to gain the necessary clearance.
‘Skeeter spotted the lace on one shoe when we were there and suggested he could have been meeting with Carla for a quick shag?’
Tony had been looking down at his own shoes and had just started to rub the right one on the back of his trouser leg. On hearing his boss utter the word ‘shag’, he stopped abruptly and embarrassingly felt his face flush a little.
‘Had she phoned him to tempt him there, to lure him to this remote spot at an ungodly hour with the promise of sex?’
‘The police files are littered with such rendezvous with similar conclusions but why meet in one remote spot? They both have apartments, they’re both single and have warm beds. Why would they go there? The place where his car was abandoned is an area full of hidden footpaths, bushes and trees suitable for alfresco sex. Why then drive to a more remote spot a mile or so away? What was their raison d’être? Why drive another mile or so? If we knew that we’d be closer to knowing the killer.’
April looked at Tony for a moment. He talked a lot of sense for someone who, from their general appearance, looked to be clueless. She felt sure it was a deliberate ploy. He stood looking at the board chewing some skin on his thumb. There was more to this book than what you saw on the cover, she thought.
‘Indeed, Tony. How right you are. Forensics will be completing a full test on the shoes. If they’re not his, then there should be DNA everywhere but then, as they have already stated, they were new. You’ll find his shoes were changed post death. The pathologist should be able to track that. It’s my understanding shoes tend to leave marks on the skin, particularly if they are tight.’
Wiping his finger on his sleeve, he turned to April.
‘But if they were swapped immediately, wouldn’t that …’ He did not finish his question as self-doubt suddenly crept in. ‘I’ll just wait and see what results come back.’
April changed tack.
‘According to the log we’ve just received, only one call was made on his phone from Sharpe since she went missing and that was early this morning. There have been no other calls made from it. So, if Sharpe is still alive, we can suspect that this was a honey trap, but if she’s not, then we have a potential serial killer working in the area. The phone call was made close to the spot where his car was found. Without our insomniac drone pilot, we’d just have had another missing person.’ She stopped and turned to look at Carla Sharpe’s photograph.
The pause allowed Tony to carry on remedying the lack of lustre on his shoes and he began to polish the left one. ‘So, you think Sharpe’s already dead but just not been discovered, ma’am?’ Checking the result of his swift rubbing brought a slight smile of satisfaction.
‘Time will tell.’ April looked down at his shoes. ‘You’d be better with Kiwi and brushes but I guess you know that already.’
On returning to the station, Lucy had tracked the possible new address of the short-term tenant who had taken over the apartment after Carla and Callum Smith vacated it. There had been no forwarding address but support officers had managed to identify two people by the names Gaskell had provided. At this stage it was a case of making a sensible guess. The mobile number also given had long since been inoperative. She had the name Simon Taylor. One was now resident in Liverpool city centre, the other lived in York. For the moment, adding the name and both addresses to the board containing Sharpe’s photograph was all she could do until she checked out the Liverpool address. Strangely both men were the same age but according to passport and DVLA records, were very dissimilar. From Gaskell’s brief description, it seemed likely that the Simon Taylor she was seeking now lived in the centre of Liverpool. She would run further background checks before making either appointment, as she always believed being forewarned is to be forearmed.
Callum Smith had arrived for interview twenty minutes early and was ushered to the area normally reserved for visiting solicitors. He had refused coffee and simply waved an oversized bottle of Evian at the welcoming officer before expanding on his health regime.
Skeeter and April had both received the call at the same time to inform them Smith was early. They met in the corridor on the way down and April passed her a pre-prepared interview agenda. Addenda had been added as the latest information had filtered through and both were aware the information they had could still change.
‘Wicca!’ a voice from an open door called out, closely followed by Fred’s face. ‘Just received some dashcam footage of the area in which Carla Sharpe was last seen. They’d seen the post we’d placed on the website … proves someone’s looking! The date and time fit.’
Skeeter glanced at April as they both moved swiftly into the room and peered directly at the computer screen. The image had been paused. Fred moved the cursor onto the triangle and tapped the mouse.
‘As you can see the driver of this delivery van has turned off Cambridge Road and onto Hesketh Road. You’ll notice there’s some traffic but it’s light. Now we’re on Argyle Road before turning right onto Park Road.’ He paused the video. ‘What occurs next happens very quickly so for the guy to spot it and react is amazing. For that reason, I’ll run it in slow motion. In the distance you’ll see a car pull across as if going to the golf club. If you look carefully, you’ll also see a runner approaching the turn in. There are a number of cars parked along the road side but you can still see the jogger’s head. Watch the car and the driver.’
Fred started the video and all eyes were focused on the screen. It happened just as he had described.
‘The runner hardly comes into view,’ Skeeter announced as Fred brought the video back to the critical moment before letting it run again at half speed. ‘Did I see the driver climb out of the car and then stand and wave?’
‘You certainly saw them put their hand up,’ Fred agreed. ‘Whether they were waving at the person or signalling for them to stop is debatable. The person’s gender cannot be ascertained from this either.’
‘So, we can’t confirm this was Carla Sharpe?’ Skeeter turned to Fred, a clear frown spreading across her face.
Fred shook his head. ‘We have a partial number plate, however, and a model but that’s it.’
‘Only one brake light working too,’ Skeeter announced, ‘so that shouldn’t be too difficult to trace.’
Fred and Skeeter checked the screen again and for a brief moment it was clear that only one light was working.
‘Bloody hell, Wicca, you’ve got eyes like a shithouse rat.’ Fred chuckled and patted her shoulder.
‘It’s only a brief flash but it’s undeniable.’
‘I’ve already got a call out to records with make, colour and reg so once they’ve traced those, locating the actual car should be straightforward, providing the car hasn’t had the bulb replaced in the meantime. I’ll keep you posted.’
‘If that were Sharpe, she was running anti-clockwise round her regular route.’
‘Does it make a difference which way she runs?’ April questioned.
On leaving the room, April called Fred’s name, being immediately rewarded by a smiling face further down the corridor. ‘Check the first CCTV footage to see the direction in which she was running. If it’s the same fine but if not …’ She thrust a thumb up in the air in thanks.
Smith was waiting in an Interview Room when they arrived and surprised them both by rising on their entry. He apologised for being early but a client had cancelled and he hoped the sooner the interview started the sooner he could be back at the gym.
‘We’ll hopefully not detain you for too long, Mr Smith.’ Skeeter deliberately slotted in the word ‘detain’ to see if it had any effect on his demeanour. It did not. ‘Please sit. My name is DS Warlock, thank you for coming in. This is DI Decent. This interview will be recorded.’ She pointed to the smoked-glass dome in the ceiling corners. ‘That’s for your benefit and safety as much as ours. Data protection is observed and details are in the booklet in front of you.’
‘Fine, fine! Is there any news on Carla?’ There was anxiety in his voice.
After confirming his age and address, Smith spoke freely about their relationship and their troubles, admitting that Carla had put up with a lot from him over their period together.
‘Temptation comes my way far too frequently in my job, probably the proximity and intensity in which I work. Dance instructors have a similar problem, I think.’ He looked down at his hands before proclaiming, ‘The type of young women I coach and my inability to say no is the biggest problem. I talked it over with Carla on many occasions. She’d been such a rock during that time. What’s the song say “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”?’
Syn (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 2) Page 6
