by M A Comley
“Off the top of my head, one of the lads had a collision with a JCB.”
Lorne turned to look at Katy, who glanced up from the notes she was taking. Lorne looked back at Gerry. “What type of collision?”
“It was purely accidental. The incident ensured that Damien was off work for a week. Time is money in this business, as you can imagine. That week off put the whole site back two weeks.”
“May I ask why?”
“Damien is a bricklayer. They generally work in a team, and if one of them rings in sick, it has a genuine knock-on effect. Decent brickies are hard to come by in this area at present, what with all the other building work going on. The demand is super high, as you can imagine.”
“I see. But surely, wouldn’t you allow for that at the beginning of the build? Work in sick days and holidays et cetera?”
“Obviously, there is a certain amount of leeway we take into consideration. However, it can still disrupt the momentum of a build if one of the trades is affected.”
“Having renovated a few houses myself and worked with different tradespeople during the builds, I can totally appreciate where you’re coming from. Is Damien back at work now?”
“He is. Between you and me, he isn’t the same lad since his accident.”
Lorne tilted her head and asked, “In what way?”
“His work rate is down, and he no longer seems to trust the people he’s working alongside. Tends to keep to himself during the day and leaves the site bang on five o’clock. Some of the others stop off at the local for a pint or two. He used to join them before his accident, but not now.”
“Would you mind if we have a brief chat with him while we’re here?”
Gerry rolled his eyes and shrugged. “If you have to. I might as well write the day off as it is, what with you lot and the forensic guys being on-site.”
“We’ll do our best not to disrupt the build any longer than necessary. It’s important for us to deal with the corpse ASAP, especially as we believe the site to be the scene of a murder. Surely even you can understand that, sir.”
He held his hands up in front of him. “Oh, believe me, I do. However, put yourself in my shoes, when every second during the day needs to be accounted for.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying. Forensics will do everything they can to handle things swiftly so that not only the owner of the property, but the whole site can return to normal as quickly as possible. One last question, if I may?”
Gerry clenched his hands together on the desk in front of him. “Go ahead.”
“In the time the site has been operating, have you possibly sacked anyone?”
“You think someone would try to deliberately sabotage the site?”
“It’s not unheard of. There’s obviously a lot of competition taking place in the area. I don’t have to tell you that in your line of business, even the daftest scenario can cause someone to have dark thoughts and carry out heinous crimes at the drop of a hat.”
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe I’m the type of person who sees the best in people, Inspector.”
“Maybe. Believe me, I wish I could, but experience tells me that it takes all sorts to make this world. I’ve dealt with some of the vilest characters to ever walk this earth. I have to tell you that nothing surprises me any more.”
“I can honestly say that in all my years in this trade, I’ve never come across a dead body on one of my sites. It’s definitely a first for me and, hopefully, the last time I have to deal with such a terrible situation. I’ll be honest with you—this news has knocked me for six.”
“Hopefully, we’ll be able to identify the victim soon. Once that transpires, the investigation usually takes shape. Until then, our hands are tied. We’ll try not to get in your way in the meantime and appreciate your cooperation answering any questions we may have.”
He leaned forward in his chair and said in a low voice, “Of course, you’re assuming the body is to do with the site. What about the homeowner? Couldn’t he have buried the body?”
Lorne smiled sympathetically and shook her head. “In our experience, the person who carried out the crime in the first place rarely contacts the police themselves.”
He sat back in his chair and hit the side of his head with the palm of his hand. “Well that was pretty dumb of me to even consider that notion. I do apologise, Inspector. That’s probably why you’re a copper and I’m a builder.”
“No problem. It’s a stressful time for you, and stress can play tricks on the mind. Leave it to us—we’ll figure out what’s going on once the team formally identifies the corpse. Would it be okay if we question Damien and a few of the other men now? We’ll try not to take up too much of their time, I promise.”
“Of course. I’ll come down with you and call the men together, make them aware of the situation.”
The three of them left the office and descended the stairs. A quick look around told Lorne that only about five houses were unfinished at this end of the site. They approached the front of one of the houses, and Gerry bellowed, “Guys, can you leave what you’re doing and gather around? Make it snappy.”
Several men groaned with displeasure, and before long, ten men were assembled in front of them.
“We’ll make this quick. The inspector here is aware how much our time is worth, so do all you can to assist these ladies so that we can get back to work swiftly,” Gerry said from his position next to Lorne.
She smiled at Gerry then turned her attention to the men ahead of her. “Good morning, gents. Is Damien here?”
A slightly built man stepped forward two paces and mumbled, “That’s me.”
“Can I ask you to speak separately with Katy over there while I talk to the other men?”
“Whatever.” With a shrug, Damien followed Katy to a spot several feet away from the rest of the group.
Lorne looked at Gerry. “If you want to get on with your work, I’ll be five minutes with the men.”
Gerry nodded eagerly. “I’d appreciate that. Good luck, Inspector.”
She watched Gerry walk back in the direction of his office, his shoulders slumped a little, then addressed the rest of his team. “I won’t delay you for long. You’re probably aware that a body has been found on the site. I wanted to know if any of you knew anything about it.”
The men looked totally shocked by her question.
“Okay, let me rephrase that. The pathologist reckons the body has been there at least three, maybe four, months. Do you know any of your workmates who have gone missing from the site in that time?”
The men all appeared puzzled by the question and looked around the group. A tall man at the back folded his arms and cleared his throat. “I hope we’re not going to get the blame for this.”
Lorne had no idea why her words were coming out as mixed up and nonsensical. It was totally unlike her. She mentally gave herself a good shake and tried again. “No, not at all. What I’m trying to ascertain in a clumsy way—sorry about that—is whether one of your colleagues neglected to report for duty one day and hasn’t been seen since.”
The men either shook their heads or shrugged.
“Okay, thanks for your help. You can get back to work now.” She sighed and crossed the road to where Katy was chatting with Damien.
“Would you say it was done deliberately then?” Katy asked Damien.
“I don’t know. I’m usually so careful on-site—we all are.”
“Is the chap who was driving the JCB around at present?” Lorne asked, smiling at Katy as an apology for interrupting her.
“No. He left the site, and I think—don’t quote me on this—he went on to work for someone else not long after the incident happened.”
“Did he leave, or was he sacked?” Katy asked.
“Who knows? The boss tells you what he thinks you want to hear most of the time. You’re better off asking him about that.”
“I’ll go and check with Gerry,” Lorne said, taking off towards the
site office for a second time. She climbed the stairs and found Gerry in some kind of daze, staring out the window. “Gerry?”
The man jumped and placed a trembling hand over his heart. “Good Lord, you scared the crap out of me. I was miles away.” He added jokingly, “Wishful thinking, right?”
“I’m sorry. Damien just mentioned something that I need to clarify with you.”
“He did? What’s that?”
Lorne approached the man’s desk. “That the man who caused his accident no longer works for you. Can I ask why?”
“I gave him a warning for careless use of his equipment, and he told me in no uncertain terms where to stick my job.”
“Do you know where he works now?”
“I don’t.”
“That’s a shame. What’s his name? We’ll do some digging—excuse the pun—when we get back to the station.”
“Larry Watson. Do you want me to find his address for you?” Gerry walked over to the filing cabinet in the corner and opened the top drawer. He extracted a bulky brown folder and returned to his desk. “It might look a mess, but it is in order, I promise, so it shouldn’t take long to find it. Ahh… here it is. He lives over in the East End, ten Jacamo Avenue, Whitechapel.”
Lorne noted down the address in her notebook. “Brilliant. Is there a phone number on file for him?”
Gerry rattled off a mobile number, and Lorne wrote that down too.
“Okay, I think we’re almost finished now. Thanks for being so cooperative. I’ll have a word with the pathologist before I leave, see if her team can hurry things along for you.”
“Honestly, it’s fine. We’re working on this end of the estate now, and all the houses have been sold off-plan anyway.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass that on. I appreciate all the help you’ve given us.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s hope things get back to normal around here soon. Do you think we’ll be inundated with the press turning up?”
“You might get the odd one or two. I’ll keep a uniformed officer outside the premises for the next few days to deter them from bothering the homeowner.”
“Thanks.” He let out a relieved sigh.
Lorne smiled and left the office.
Damien was walking away from Katy as Lorne joined her. “Anything of importance?”
“Not really. Poor bloke said that the doctor has informed him that he’s going to have a limp for the rest of his life.”
“Ouch! That’s not good at his age. What is he? Twenty-six or twenty-seven?”
“Twenty-seven. He shrugged it off. Said he’d rather have a limp and live to tell the tale than be lying in a grave somewhere.”
“That’s philosophical of him. Talking of graves, let’s pay Patti another visit before we leave.”
They walked through the estate, noticed a few curtains twitching as they passed and entered the garden through the side access to the property. Patti looked up as the gate opened.
“How’s it going?” Lorne asked, puzzled by the confused expression on Patti’s face.
“It’s going.” Patti shook her head. “We’re going to need to do a full reconstruction of the face before I can obtain any form of ID for you.”
“Oh heck. Is that likely to take long, Patti?”
“Usually takes a week or two, if the forensic anthropologist has time in her schedule. I’ll make the call when I get back to the office. She’s not based at the lab.”
“If you can do your best to hurry things along for us, I’d appreciate it, Patti.”
“You know I’ll do my best for you. This poor bloke was torn apart, or dismembered, I should say. Not pleasant at all.”
“Do we have any idea what with?” Lorne looked down at the sacks.
“Could be a chainsaw. I’ll need to examine the bones for nicks et cetera during my examination. Either way, we’re looking at a warped mind who carried out the brutal act.”
“At the risk of repeating myself, but do you think the crimes could be linked?”
“You know I don’t like to speculate too soon, Lorne. However, given the distance from the other murder scene, plus the fact the bodies were both mutilated, I’m inclined to think they are, but don’t quote me on that.”
Lorne placed her thumb and forefinger around her chin. “So, by the looks of things, we could be dealing with a suspect who has a vendetta against builders.”
“Crikey!” Katy announced, “That could be half the bloody UK in that case. I hope you’ll be able to narrow that down for us, Patti. I’m not liking our odds otherwise.”
Lorne’s mouth pulled down at the sides. “Damn. You’re right, Katy. Okay, thinking logically about this. What we have so far is a carpenter who worked for a developer and a corpse found on a newly developed site, identity unknown at present.”
“Okay, so, we’re looking at someone targeting people working on newbuild sites as opposed to builders in general then,” Katy corrected herself.
“That’s how it looks to me. We’ll know more when we’re able to ID this body.”
“I’ll prioritise this as urgent for you, Lorne. Leave it with me,” Patti said, glancing down at the body.
“We’ll be off then. There’s a former employee we need to track down and speak to. Send me your report when you can, Patti.”
“You have my word on that. Good luck.”
Lorne and Katy left the excavation site via the side gate again. Once they were in the car, Lorne punched in the postcode for Whitechapel. “We might as well shoot over there now rather than go back to the station.”
“You’re assuming this guy is going to be at home and not employed by someone else?”
“If he’s not, there might be a relative at home who can tell us what he’s up to now.”
They drove for twenty minutes and parked the car outside a run-down terraced house. The whole street looked as if it needed bulldozing in Lorne’s opinion as a property expert.
She and Katy walked through an overgrown front garden and knocked on the door of number ten Jacamo Avenue. The door remained closed. Lorne took a step back and looked up at the window above, where she saw the net curtain move slightly. She rang the bell again, and a woman dressed in a blue towelling robe opened the door.
“Can I help?”
“Sorry to disturb you.” Lorne flashed her warrant card in the woman’s face. “I’m DI Lorne Warner of the Met, and this is my partner. We’re looking for a Larry Watson. Is he at home?”
The woman’s brow creased heavily. “No, he’s at work. What’s he done?”
“We just need to ask him a few questions. Can you tell us where he works?”
“He works for Donald Windsor Homes at the Canary Wharf site at the moment. Do you want me to ring him? Ask him to come home?”
“No, that’s fine. We’ll catch up with him there. How long has he worked for them? Can you tell us?”
“This time, round about a month or so.”
“Are you telling us that he’s worked for them before?”
“Off and on over the years. Can’t make his mind up who he likes best. The money is shite either way. Otherwise we wouldn’t be living in a slum like this. I work nights at a local factory to make ends meet.”
“I’m so sorry we disturbed you. We’ll leave you to get back to your bed. You’ve been really helpful. Thank you, Mrs. Watson.”
“Oh, I ain’t married to him. Barbara Stace is the name. Between you and me, I’m squirrelling my money away so I can leave the good-for-nothing piece of shit. There’s got to be more to life than living in a shithole like this, right?”
“Good luck in your quest to find pastures more suitable. Would you mind not ringing him when we leave?”
“Of course not. Whatever he’s done, he deserves what’s coming to him. He’s a waste of space in my book. I regret ever getting involved with him.”
“Are you telling us that he’s a violent man?”
“He’s been known to lash out after he’s had a few bevvies
. I warned him that I’d only put up with so much. Let’s just say I’m far happier now that we’re on opposite shifts and I barely see him.”
“You don’t have to put up with that, you know? We have specialised teams now who deal with victims of abuse. They’ll offer you the support if you want to lay any charges on him.”
“It’s really not worth all the bother. I’ll be out of here in a few months. I’m eager to forget about things and move on. One day while he’s at work, I’ll pack up all my stuff and ship out. The only regret I’ll have is that I won’t be here to see the look on his face when he realises that I’ve gone. Mind you, he’ll probably have a party and put the flags out. Can you tell that I hate him as much as he hates me?” The woman laughed.
“Wishing you well in the future anyway. If things don’t go according to plan, I want you to be aware that there are people out there willing to lend a hand to someone who finds themselves in your predicament.”
“You’re very kind. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
On the way back to the car, Katy said, “So he has a violent streak. That should put him high up on our suspect list.”
“It definitely does.”
Chapter 6
At first glance, the Donald Windsor Homes site was far larger than the others they had visited. “Looks like Watson is in with the big boys in the league now. Brace yourself for some aggro.”
“Really? What makes you think there will be a problem, Lorne?”
“Call it intuition. I’m up for being proved wrong. Let’s see what the site manager has to say before I cast unnecessary aspersions.”
Getting out of the car, Katy looked over the roof at her. “Well, in the past, your gut instinct has been pretty much spot-on.”
“We’ll see.”
The showroom was lavishly laid out with a curved dark wood desk and floor-to-ceiling cabinets along one of the walls. The sales assistant smiled at them and left her seat as they entered.
“Hello, I’m Candice. Are you looking for a new home?”
Lorne shook her outstretched hand and smiled in return, then she produced her warrant card and watched the smile fade rapidly from Candice’s face. “DI Lorne Warner and DS Katy Foster. We’d like to see the site manager if he’s available.”
