Frozen Minds: A murder mystery set deep in Wales (DI Winter Meadows Book 2)

by Cheryl Rees-Price

  Chapter Nine

  Steam rose off the bonnet of Meadows’ old Ford Mondeo as he sat outside Edris’ house with the engine running. He could see the frost glittering on the pavement and parked cars. Inside his car, warm air blew from the vents and the speakers vibrated to the sound of AC/DC. Meadows sang along as he beat out a rhythm on the steering wheel.

  The passenger door opened and Edris entered with a blast of cold air. ‘Morning,’ he shouted over the music.

  ‘Morning.’ Meadows shifted the car into gear and pulled off.

  ‘What the hell are you listening to?’ Edris reached out and turned down the volume.

  ‘Wakes me up in the morning.’ Meadows smiled.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought old-school rock was your thing.’

  ‘What did you expect? Classic FM?’

  ‘No, folk music. The sort of stuff you listen to around the campfire.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Edris, you haven’t got much of an imagination.’ Meadows laughed. ‘Talk about stereotypes.’

  ‘So you’re telling me that AC/DC is hippy music’ – Edris raised his eyebrows – ‘and you rocked it out around the campfire.’

  ‘You’ve got a fixation on campfires. It wasn’t the boy scouts. I’ll take you up to the commune one day and you can see for yourself.’

  ‘Really? That’s awesome.’ Edris beamed. ‘Do you visit often?’

  ‘I’ve been up a few times since I’ve been back, mainly to take Mum. I left there when I was fifteen years old and they still welcome me.’

  Meadows felt the nostalgia of childhood memories stir his emotions. It was a time he felt safe and happy, a time when his father was a man he could look up to. He shook away the memories and concentrated on the road.

  ‘Let’s hope we gain some insight from the post-mortem this morning. I hope for Alan Whitby’s sake he was dead before going into the freezer.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, I can think of worse ways to die. Apparently you just fall asleep,’ Edris said.

  ‘Yes, but not until you’re so cold you can’t think. Then there’s the panic of being locked in a confined space.’

  ‘Yeah, you’ve got a point. You’re going to enjoy meeting Daisy Moore this morning.’ Edris grinned.

  ‘Daisy?’

  ‘The pathologist. I met her when I was training. I heard she’s taken over from Glyn Thomas.’

  Meadows conjured up an image of a sweet grey-haired lady leaning over the body as she pointed out injuries.

  ‘She’s awesome,’ Edris continued.

  Must be someone younger if Edris is impressed.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve dated the pathologist as well,’ Meadows said with a groan.

  ‘No, and what do you mean, “as well”? I’m not a complete slut!’

  Meadows laughed as he drove into the car park. ‘Come on then, let’s meet this awesome pathologist of yours.’ He pulled up his collar as he stepped out of the car and walked briskly towards the hospital with Edris at his side.

  ‘You can lead the way, as you’ve been here before,’ Meadows said.

  They walked past the reception desk and to the lifts.

  ‘I hate the smell of hospitals.’ Edris wrinkled his nose as he pressed the call button.

  ‘It smells a lot worse where we’re going,’ Meadows said as he stepped into the lift.

  The lift took them down to the basement where a corridor led them to the morgue. As Meadows pushed open the first set of double doors the smell of formaldehyde tickled his nostrils. It always reminded him of the biology lab in school where frogs would sit in jars ready to be dissected.

  They stood in a bright white room with filing cabinets lining one wall. A desk sat in the centre with trays filled with paper. A door led to a separate office where loud music thrummed.

  Edris knocked on the office door and opened it.

  A young woman who Meadows guessed to be in her late twenties sat at a desk. Raven hair was pulled back and secured with a band at the nape of her neck. A few wisps had escaped and coiled around her ears. She looked up at the visitors with sapphire eyes set behind long dark lashes. Meadows took a sharp intake of breath.

  She leaned across the desk and turned off the music giving Meadows a few seconds to compose himself.

  ‘Hello, Edris.’ She smiled. ‘Nice to see you again.’

  Meadows expected Edris to go into flirt mode but to his surprise he didn’t see any mischief in his eyes.

  ‘Hi, Daisy, this is DI Winter Meadows. I don’t think you two have had the opportunity to meet.’

  ‘No, then again people generally don’t go out of their way to meet me.’ She laughed as she held out her hand.

  Meadows took her hand, it felt soft and delicate in his own. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

  It’s a pleasure? Prat!

  ‘I take it you are here to see Alan Whitby.’ Daisy rose from her seat.

  Meadows was impressed that she referred to Alan by name. Most of the pathologists he met used the term “victim”; it was as if they had to dehumanise the person to carry out their work.

  Daisy slipped on an apron and snapped on latex gloves. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to see him.’ She led them to an adjoining room, where Meadows could feel the drop in temperature. The room looked and smelled sterile. Two large stainless-steel sinks were positioned against the wall and various tools sat on a trolley. Against the far wall was a set of storage drawers.

  ‘I haven’t long finished the PM. I had to let him warm up a bit, poor fellow.’ She approached a drawer, checked the label then slid out the gurney with ease. ‘I’ve sent off blood samples to toxicology, I’m afraid it might take a while to come back, I’ve marked it urgent. His clothes have been bagged and sent to the lab.’

  Meadows was transfixed by the movement of her lips as she spoke. They were an attractive deep wine colour, set against an ivory complexion. Her smile was warm and inviting. He noticed a small hole below the left side of her bottom lip. A piercing? Probably takes it out for work. He became aware that Daisy had stopped talking and was waiting for him to speak. Say something, idiot!

  ‘So what have you got for us? Keep it nice and simple,’ Edris said.

  ‘OK. He’s dead.’ Daisy grinned.

  Meadows saw a twinkle in her eyes.

  ‘Maybe not that simple,’ Edris added.

  She reached out her hand and moved Alan’s head gently. ‘He was hit on the head at least three times and with considerable force, enough to break the skin. There would have been a lot of blood. Something blunt and heavy. If you look here’ – she pointed to a slit in the skin – ‘there is a groove. I also removed small fragments of plastic.’

  ‘So is that what killed him?’ Meadows asked. He had regained his composure and was now fully focused.

  ‘No, my guess is he would have been knocked unconscious. He died of asphyxiation. I take it there wasn’t much space in the freezer. He wouldn’t have survived much longer in the cold.’

  ‘Any defence wounds?’

  ‘I was just getting to that.’

  ‘There is a scratch under his chin.’ She lifted his head. ‘And one on his face. I would say fingernails.’

  A scenario played in Meadows’ mind. Perhaps Alan attacked someone, a woman, and she tried to fend him off. A man would more likely have punched him, not scratched his face. Sexual assault? Rape? Maybe someone came to the victim’s – another woman? He’s hit from behind…

  ‘So a woman, probably two?’

  ‘That’s for you to work out, Detective.’ Daisy smiled. ‘But either a man or woman could have inflicted the head wounds with a heavy object.’

  ‘Any signs of sexual activity before he died?’ To his horror Meadows felt a flush spread up his neck.

  ‘No obvious signs. I’ve sent swabs to the lab.’

  ‘Good. Time of death?’

  ‘It’s difficult to tell with accuracy. My best guest would be sometime Monday night or early hours of Tuesday morning.’ She pushed
the gurney back into storage before she snapped off her gloves and walked to the sink where she scrubbed her hands. ‘As soon as I have the results back from toxicology, I’ll let you know. Meanwhile I’ll finish the PM report and email it to you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She turned away from the sink and smiled.

  Meadows wanted to say something but couldn’t think of a parting comment.

  ‘Catch you later.’ Edris smiled and turned to leave.

  ‘Bye,’ Meadows said and followed Edris.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Edris asked as they entered the lift.

  ‘She was very nice,’ Meadows said.

  ‘I meant about Alan Whitby.’ Edris laughed.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Meadows squirmed.

  ‘I think you’ve got a bit of a crush there!’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Meadows snapped. ‘She’s more in your league, I think.’

  ‘League?’ Edris chuckled. ‘Hey, not my type.’ He held up his hands in surrender. ‘You go ahead, I think she likes you.’

  Meadows felt a warm tingle spread through his body.

  ‘So, what do you think? Two women? Maybe Alan tried it on and it got out of hand. Someone came in to help and picked up the nearest object and hit him over the head.’

  ‘So we are back to the case now?’ Edris’ eyes twinkled mischievously.

  ‘Well, Gemma and Leah were in the house alone.’

  ‘Not totally alone. One of the residents could have woken up. Then there’s Jane Pritchard. She could have arranged to meet him in the cellar and things got out of hand.’

  They left the building and walked towards the car. Meadows unlocked the door and climbed in.

  ‘It doesn’t make sense though. If Jane was having an affair with Alan why would he suddenly turn on her?’

  ‘Maybe she changed her mind. Who knows what goes through women’s minds.’

  Meadows started the engine and pulled out of the car park. As he drove he reached out to switch on the stereo, and AC/DC vibrated through the car once more.

  ‘So, would you like me to get you Daisy’s number?’ Edris shouted above the music.

  ‘No, I don’t have much luck with women.’

  Chapter Ten

  Jane Pritchard paced her office. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep and her stomach churned with worry. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to dispel the train of thought crashing through her mind.

  Jane inhaled deeply, holding her breath as she counted to eight then blowing out. She repeated the process until she felt calmer. OK, that’s better. She opened her handbag, took out a compact and dabbed some powder on her face before leaving the office.

  The staff were already waiting in the sitting room where she had asked them to gather. Only three residents were present. Kevin sat next to Gemma carefully selecting jigsaw pieces, Eddy paced the room, emitting a repetitive droning noise, his black book clutched tightly in his hand, and Liam stood against the wall, fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

  Jane looked around at the expectant faces and pulled back her shoulders.

  ‘Firstly, I would like to thank you all for keeping the house running with the minimal amount of upset yesterday. I understand that this is a difficult time for you all, well for all of us. We have lost a valuable member of staff in very distressing circumstances.’

  She paused and looked around the staff trying to gauge their reaction. No one looked particularly upset. She checked the faces again.

  ‘Where’s Leah?’

  ‘She isn’t feeling well today,’ Cillian said.

  ‘I see. Well, I suppose she had a bit of a shock yesterday.’

  ‘A bit of a shock?’ Cillian’s eyes hardened. ‘She should have been sent home straight away.’

  ‘She seemed to be coping alright. We all had a shock, Cillian. Will she be coming in tomorrow?’

  ‘We’ll have to wait and see if she feels better.’ Cillian’s eyes challenged Jane.

  She turned her gaze away from him. ‘As you are all aware, the police will be coming in later to question the staff and residents. While we want to co-operate with the police, you must bear in mind that our first priority is to protect the residents and the reputation of this house.’

  ‘Even if someone here shoved the poor bastard into the freezer,’ Miles said from across the room.

  ‘I don’t think anyone here would have done that,’ Gemma said and looked pointedly at the residents.

  Jane snapped her head towards Gemma. ‘Are you sure about that? Maybe there’s something you know that we don’t. Would you care to share with us?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about what happened. I’m just saying I don’t think anyone here would do something like that.’ Gemma’s face reddened.

  Jane’s attention was caught by Liam rocking back and forth, his hand banging out a rhythm on the DVD shelf.

  Jane felt irritation crawl at her skin. ‘That’s enough, Liam,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Want Leah,’ Liam bellowed.

  ‘Well, she’s not coming in today. Now settle down or go to your room to relax.’

  Liam swiped his hand across the shelf, sending the DVDs crashing to the ground.

  Cillian jumped to his feet and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. ‘Take it easy, buddy. Take a deep breath. Come on, you can give me a hand to put these back on the shelf.’ Cillian crouched down and started collecting the scattered DVDs as Jane turned her attention back to Gemma.

  ‘You were on duty Monday night. Who was awake during the night?’

  ‘No one.’ Gemma visibly squirmed in her chair. ‘It was a quiet night.’

  Jane tried to force a smile. She looked around at the rest of the staff, the meeting wasn’t going the way she planned.

  ‘What I’m trying to say is that there is little understanding of our home and the complex needs of the residents. People will be happy to jump to conclusions, especially the police. Like any other workplace, there is always gossip. I would appreciate it that if any of you have heard any rumours, or if the residents have said anything or acted out of the ordinary, then please let me know first before you say anything to the police. Bear in mind we will all lose our jobs if the house is closed.’

  She let the statement hang in the air. So far Danielle and Harry had remained silent. It didn’t surprise Jane, as they hadn’t been on the premises Monday evening.

  ‘We all know that the residents say the most outrageous things sometimes. I ask each of you to be vigilant during the interviews. If at any time you feel the police are badgering the residents or if any of the residents become distressed, you must stop the interview immediately and refer the police to me.’ Jane looked at each of the staff in turn. ‘Are there any questions?’

  Kevin looked up from his jigsaw. ‘Do you want to build a snowman?’ he sang.

  ‘No,’ Jane snapped. ‘You better behave yourself when the police are here, Kevin, or there will be no snow.’

  ‘No snow!’ Kevin leaped from the chair. ‘I want snow.’

  ‘Thirteen days,’ Gemma said in a soothing voice.

  ‘A word in private, Miles,’ Jane said, then walked out of the sitting room.

  ‘You really know how to keep your cool,’ Miles snarled when he caught up with Jane.

  ‘Gemma knows something, I’m sure of it. Find out,’ Jane whispered.

  Miles grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’

  ‘Use your charm, you’re good at that. Let me know when the police get here and keep your eyes and ears open.’ Shrugging off his hand Jane walked into her office, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Meadows and Edris arrived in the office to a hive of activity. Paskin sat at her desk, her cheeks still flushed from the cold. Meadows guessed that she hadn’t long arrived. She had a laptop open on her desk and was searching through files.

  ‘I’ll check to see if Alan’s phone has dried out,�
�� Edris said as he headed for his desk.

  Meadows’ eyes roamed around the office. Valentine’s eyes were fixed to a computer screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Blackwell swung back and forth on his chair as he talked on the phone.

  Meadows waited until Blackwell ended the call then called for the team’s attention. They all dragged their chairs and gathered around the incident board, the two women sat with notebooks open, Blackwell slouched in his chair, legs apart and his hands resting on his thighs. Meadows briefed them on what they had learned from the trip to the morgue as Edris put the phone together.

  ‘It’s working,’ Edris exclaimed, then started scrolling through the information.

  ‘Good,’ Meadows said.

  ‘So, do you think we’re looking for a woman?’ Valentine asked.

  ‘From the scratches on Alan’s face I would say yes, however the wound inflicted on the back of his head could have come from anyone. Someone called Alan on Monday evening and got him to return to Bethesda. Alan’s wife said it was Jane Pritchard, or at least that’s what he told her.’

  ‘It was Jane,’ Edris said. ‘According to the call history she phoned him at 9 p.m.’

  ‘Interesting.’ Meadows nodded. ‘That would tie in with what Melanie Whitby told us. Run a check on the number to make sure that it is Jane Pritchard’s and he wasn’t using her as a cover name on his phone. We’ll talk to Jane later. We need to find out why she was meeting him. Were they having an affair? And who else was with them?’ He turned to Paskin. ‘I see you have Alan Whitby’s laptop. Did you get any useful information from Melanie Whitby this morning?’

  ‘Not from Melanie, she’s sticking to the story that her husband was a well-liked man. Good husband, good father. No recent arguments. I did get to speak with her daughter, Claire, alone. She told me that four years ago there were allegations of abuse at Bethesda House. Two members of staff involved, Alex Henson and Rhys Owens. Alan gave evidence at the tribunal.’

  Meadows felt a spike of anger at the thought of someone in a position of trust abusing those too vulnerable to defend themselves.

  ‘Did she elaborate on the nature of the abuse?’