by Helen Phifer
Beth stood up, her back creaking; as she put her hands on her hips and stretched. ‘I have a feeling this is going to be a rather difficult case, Josh. We’ll have our work cut out for us.’
The look on Josh’s face said he’d figured that out long before she’d arrived.
Six
There was nothing more that Beth could do at the scene for the moment. It needed to be dug out by a forensic archaeologist and the nearest one, Doctor Chris Corkill, was based at UCLA in Lancaster. He’d been called and would attend the scene first thing tomorrow morning. As much as it pained her to have to leave the nameless girl alone like this, she had no choice. At least the tent that now covered the grave allowed her some privacy. Two police officers were going to be stationed outside the tent, guarding it until Chris could get here and start the painstaking job of sifting through the soil looking for any trace evidence. The cemetery was now closed to members of the public with PCSOs guarding each entrance.
As she said her goodbyes, she spotted Josh chatting to a rather pasty-faced woman who she’d never seen before. The woman had a clipboard under one arm and the black hair that framed her face only served to make her skin look paler than pale. Beth lifted a hand at Josh, who excused himself to come and speak to her.
‘Is that you done?’
‘Until tomorrow, yes. It’s pretty obvious she’s dead. You didn’t need me to confirm that for you. She’s been there at least eight weeks, and as much as I’d like to get her moved out of that cold, damp hole, another night isn’t going to make any difference. Who was that woman you were talking to? Is she from the cemetery? She looks like she’s seen a ghost.’
‘No, environmental health. I didn’t realise, but they have an officer present at exhumations to ensure everything is done correctly and respectfully, meeting all the health and safety regulations. The reason she looks so tense is that they’ve all messed up; apparently the coffin should have been exhumed in the early hours of the morning with the gravesite screened off from public view. She was sent last minute when the original officer phoned in sick, causing a bit of a delay. She freely admits she didn’t know the correct protocol and is currently having a heart attack whilst waiting for her manager to get here.’
‘Lord, the poor woman. Well let’s hope she doesn’t drop down dead here because we already have two bodies to deal with. I don’t fancy adding another onto my scheduled list of post-mortems for tomorrow.’
Josh stifled a laugh with the palm of his hand. ‘You’re terrible! I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘I know, and yes, you will. I’d say have a nice evening but, knowing you, I don’t think you’ll be going home anytime soon.’
She walked back to her car, where she stripped off the protective clothing and put it into a paper bag in case it was required for forensics. She hadn’t been in contact with the body or been inside the grave, so it wasn’t likely. Getting into her car, she turned back to look at the scene, turning on the windscreen wipers to clear the glass. The rain was coming down heavy now. The CSIs were in the process of setting up portable lights around the area. Shivering, she began to turn the car around. She didn’t envy Josh and his team; it was going to be all hands on deck for them until they could get an ID for the body, and whoever was responsible for putting it there into custody.
* * *
It was almost dark by the time Beth arrived home, the sky full of stormy, grey clouds. As she waited for the automatic gates to open, she jumped out of the car to check the post box mounted by the gate. Opening it, she took one look at the single cream envelope inside and felt her stomach turn inside out. ‘Damn you, Robert,’ she cursed as she pulled it out and threw it into the passenger side of the car, where it slid from the leather seat and landed in the footwell.
Looking behind her to check there were no cars following her in, she drove through the gates and waited for them to close before parking as near to her house as she could and getting out. The house was built on the shore of Lake Windermere and the views were stunning. Just staring at the water set against the backdrop of the fells and mountains usually calmed her; but tonight the security light which normally lit up the entire front of the house and gardens didn’t turn on as she got close to the front door. The entire frontage of the property remained cloaked in shadows, and Beth felt her heart begin to beat fast. She waved her arms in the air to set the motion detector off – nothing. Finding her mouth dry, she felt the familiar palpitations that signalled the beginnings of a panic attack. She took deep breaths as she tried to get the key into the front door with shaking hands. It’s okay, Beth, the bulb has blown, nothing else. Deep breaths. Everything is good, you can do this. Finally the key slid home and she turned it, her ears attuned to every noise, straining to pick up on anything that didn’t belong. Pushing the door open, she threw herself inside, slammed it shut, locked it and turned the deadbolt. No matter how many times she whispered ‘Stop it, Beth’ to herself, she knew the tears were going to come. And they did, fast and furious: a hot, salty mess rolling down her cheeks as she leant, panting, with her back against the front door. The long, clear note of the intruder alarm told her that she was safe, that there was no one home, but it didn’t do much to calm her racing heart. If she didn’t key in the code in the next few seconds all hell would break loose, so she turned and deftly typed the sequence of numbers into the keypad. The beeping stopped and silence took over the house. She finally let out the breath she’d been holding on to. Her life was a mess. She was a mess.
Kicking off her shoes into the hall closet, she hung up her jacket and managed to walk down to the kitchen. She had an expensive camera system that covered both inside and out of the property and she wanted to check them for signs that anyone had been trespassing. Before doing that, though, she opened the fridge and took a bottle of chilled wine from the rack. No need to look far for a glass as there was one still on the draining board from last night. Pouring herself a generous measure, she lifted it to her lips and swallowed a huge mouthful. It felt good. The only thing she knew she could rely on, lately, was the soothing effect a glass of wine had on her supercharged nerves. Sighing, she went into the utility room which doubled as a downstairs office to check the cameras. She’d had this room specially designed with a heavy, metal, fire-resistant door, secured from the inside with several locks. If anyone ever got past the gates and the alarm system outside, she had the luxury of her own little panic room inside, to lock herself into whilst waiting for the police to arrive. It was just an empty space, nothing fancy or high tech, but having her own safe room gave her an added sense of security should she ever need to hide from an intruder. ‘Or a killer,’ she whispered to herself.
Seven
The phone ringing woke Beth. She looked across to the window and was surprised to see the sun streaming through the cracks in the blinds. Reaching under her pillow she answered it, expecting it to be Josh.
‘Good morning, this is Steve from Safe & Secure. I got the message you left on the answerphone last night; I can be with you in an hour, if that’s okay?’
She sat up. ‘Really, but it’s Sunday morning?’
‘Yes, of course. But I’m sorry, we do charge a little extra for a weekend call out. If you prefer I can leave it until tomorrow?’
‘No, not at all. Today is fine. I’m sorry if my message last night seemed a bit panicked.’
‘Don’t worry, I figured it must be important, so I’ll be there soon. Can I check the address though? I think last time I came the satnav told me I’d arrived, but I couldn’t find the property?’
She laughed. ‘Yes, it does that. The house is pretty remote. Once you get on my road, drive just as far as you can, and the gate is on the right. It’s quite well hidden: there’s a small gap between the hedging that leads to the gates.’
‘I remember now. Thank you, I’ll see you soon.’
He hung up, and she clambered out of bed. Too much wine last night had made her head a little fuzzy this morning. When she’d chec
ked the cameras the previous night, she’d discovered the outside and inside front ones weren’t working and she’d almost had a meltdown, terrified that someone had been onto her property and sabotaged them. But then she’d talked herself down, reasoning that to have done something to the camera inside they’d have had to have gained entry to the house, which was totally secure. The alarm hadn’t been triggered, so it was probably just a power cut, or maybe the rain had got to the wiring. There was probably some perfectly good reason for it, she knew, but she was unsure and had rung the alarm company in a panic. She’d then taken her wine and a family sized bag of salt and vinegar crisps up to bed with her, resisting the urge to phone Josh, to take comfort in his calm friendly voice and ask him to come and check the cameras for her.
The intercom for the gate buzzed. She’d showered, dressed and made a pot of tea. She checked the camera on the gate to see a large white van with ‘Safe & Secure’ emblazoned across the side. The large, confident black lettering made her feel instantly better. She opened the gates and watched Steve drive through them. She opened the door as far as it would go with the heavy-duty safety chain on.
‘Morning, Ms Adams.’
‘Morning, sorry to ask, but please could I see your ID?’
There was some rustling as he pulled the lanyard over the baseball cap on his head, passing the card with a full colour photograph of the man standing outside the door on it to her. Despite remembering him from the last time he’d attended, she still took it from him, scrutinised the picture of the man then nodded. Sliding the chain off, she opened the door wide. He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. She hadn’t remembered him to be quite so good-looking.
‘Thank you, the operating system is through here,’ she said, leading him through to the utility room.
He whistled at the huge display monitor and top-of-the range computer system. Turning to her, he nodded. ‘Still got a really good set-up. So, what seems to be the problem?’
Like on his last visit, he was discreet. If he’d noticed the metal door he didn’t mention it. He also didn’t mention the rows of medical books on the shelves above the desk either even though he’d glanced at them several times.
‘Both the main camera on the front door and the downstairs internal camera which covers the entrance and part of the ground floor are faulty. The rest of them seem to be working fine. Have a seat and I’ll leave you to it.’
He nodded, sitting down on the chair and pressing buttons to check the system. Walking off, Beth paused to ask, ‘Would you like a drink?’
He turned to her, smiling. ‘I’d murder a coffee. One sugar, please. I didn’t have time this morning.’
She made him his coffee and poured herself a mug of freshly brewed tea while he went out to his van to get his ladder and toolbox. Taking his drink down to him, he took it from her, and he began to chat. Despite her best intention to leave him to it she found herself chatting back: he was friendly and easy to talk to. It had been a long time since she’d had a stranger in her house, and she found herself enjoying the company.
After he’d showed her what the problem was with the cameras, pointing out the loose connections, he began to dismantle the small domes that housed them. This time, she did leave him to it, aware that she didn’t want to distract him too much. As much as he was a nice guy, her priority was getting her security system back up and running as soon as possible.
Settling at the breakfast bar in her kitchen, where she could see the lake, before she knew it, she’d lost herself staring out at the mass of grey-blue water. It was calm today, a lot calmer than it had been last night during the heavy rain.
‘I’m finished for now.’
Beth jumped so high she almost slid off the stool. She hadn’t realised Steve was standing behind her.
‘Sorry, did I scare you?’
She laughed. ‘A little; I tend to get lost in the lake sometimes.’
He nodded. ‘I can imagine, I think I would too. That view is magnificent.’
She felt the heat rise up in her face. ‘Thank you.’
‘Anyway, I’ve managed to fix your outside camera. There were a couple of loose connections. The internal one, I’m not so sure about. I’ll have to order some new parts and see if they fix it. Unfortunately, that could take a couple of days. As soon as they arrive I’ll come back and get it sorted for you.’
‘Thank you so much. It’s funny, I’ve never had any problems with them before and then two of them go down at once. Did you manage to get the light fixed?’
‘Yes, that was easy. It just needed a new bulb. It’s always the way with these things. At least everything else is working okay. And thank you for the coffee; it was the best I’ve tasted.’
‘Blimey, if that was the best you’ve had I feel sorry for you. I’m more of a tea drinker so I have no idea if my coffee is even palatable.’
‘Well it was perfect.’ He winked at her, and she felt the warm blush begin to rise further up her cheeks.
‘Take care, Ms Adams.’
‘Bye, Steve.’
She walked him to the front door, closing and locking it behind him. Then went to watch the cameras. Nice as he’d seemed, she had to make sure he drove out of the gates and didn’t do anything to arouse her suspicion. Men, in particular, had to earn that trust from her. No one could blame her for that after what had happened.
She looked at her watch, time to get going. Doctor Corkill should be arriving at the cemetery in the next hour. Josh had texted to say he’d meet her there. A few more hours for their Jane Doe wasn’t going to make much difference. At least they’d found her. It might take a while, but once the site was properly processed and the girl’s body removed, they’d be able to work on identifying her so that her own family could give her the burial she deserved. Life was cruel. The girl was far too young to be lying in a grave, crushed under the weight of someone else’s coffin.
She opened the drive gates and watched the van leave. She didn’t bother to shut them again: she needed to get going if she was going to make it back to the cemetery on time.
Shrugging on her favourite black linen jacket, she put on a pair of walking boots and tucked her jeans into them. The heavy rain which had set in yesterday afternoon had eased off, but today it was still drizzling, which would make the grave site slippery and forensically a bit of a challenge. That was the thing with the Lakes; it had its own distinct weather pattern. One minute the sun would be burning hot, the next clouds and rain. Still, she wouldn’t swap it for the world. She realised how lucky she was that she could afford to live in such a beautiful, secluded area. At first she’d thought about buying a house in the middle of a busy town where she’d be surrounded by people and never truly alone, but then she’d realised that she’d always be on edge, wondering who her neighbours were. What the noise was. Who was outside. At least here, even though she was miles from another living soul, nobody knew where she was. With her cameras, alarms and self-defence skills she’d be ready. She knew the statistics. Christ, she’d spent a lifetime researching violent crimes. How many post-mortems had she completed on innocent people killed by someone else, for no apparent reason? Too many to count. But she’d nearly died once, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again.
She set the alarms and did her usual checks before locking up and getting into her car, waiting to see the electric gates shut in her rear-view mirror. The cemetery was fifteen minutes from her house on a good day when the roads weren’t full of coaches carrying tourists.
Heading to the crime scene, she let her mind wander to Josh for a moment as she drove. There were rumours that his marriage wasn’t working out, and she wanted to tell him she was there for him should he need a place to crash or someone to talk to. It was the least she could do for him, but she knew deep down that she wouldn’t mention it. She laughed at herself; these days the deepest conversations she had were with the dead who came into her mortuary. Glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, she ch
ecked herself. You need to claim back your life, Beth. It doesn’t matter that you survived; he’s still won if you keep living in fear like this.
Eight
The story had broken on the local paper’s Facebook page this morning, and it would no doubt be front page news in the papers tomorrow morning. Pictures of the freshly dug up coffin dangling from the jaws of the digger filled her phone screen, but the reporter didn’t know the full extent of the story, and the police were doing their best to keep it that way. The family of Florence Wright, the poor woman inside the coffin that had been dug up, were going to be horrified. It was bad enough that a question mark over her cause of death had resulted in the exhumation in the first place.
Inching her car through the crowds of onlookers – she supposed the local cafés and gift shops had never seen so much custom – she drove back through the east gate and flashed her ID for the police community support officer to wave her through. The coffin, thankfully, had been taken away to the mortuary late last night after the scene above ground had been processed. Florence Wright’s post-mortem had been pulled forward to first thing tomorrow morning, to make room for an examination of the surprise second body. It was cold and clinical, but this was how Beth’s world operated. Grieving was a luxury for the family and friends; her job was to determine how, and why. Beth would grieve in her own way, but only when the case was closed.
She parked behind Josh’s Mini Cooper, smiling to herself as she wondered, not for the first time, why someone so tall would choose to drive a car so small. She got out and made her way towards the white tent which had been erected over the open grave yesterday, to provide privacy and preserve any evidence. And in a case like this which, thanks to the Facebook scoop, was going to be headlines in all the national newspapers, they needed to keep a lid on it for as long as they possibly could.
