Killer Smile

by RC Bridgestock

  ‘Theft?’ said Dylan.

  ‘Theft?’ said Ned screwing his nose up as if an undesirable smell had wafted under it.

  ‘Theft of teeth,’ she said with an undeniably satisfied smirk upon her face.

  Dylan held out his hand for the paper. He studied it in silence.

  Timothy Woodcock was fifty-eight years of age at the time.

  Vicky turned her head to the computer screen and gently tapped at the keys, ‘And... the ... address shown for him is approximately a mile from where Davina’s body was found,’ said Vicky.

  ‘And his place of work,’ said Dylan. ‘Brelland Dental Practice; at the time he was a senior partner, according to this.’

  Ned’s face took on a look of surprise ‘No, way!’ he said. ‘I went there when I was a kid. What did you say his name was?’

  ‘Timothy Woodcock.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said holding his hand to his mouth. ‘I think he might have been our dentist.’

  ‘Explains a lot,’ Vicky said, grabbing her colleague’s chin and turning his face to look at her. Ned bared his teeth and snapped them together.

  ‘Daft bugger,’ she said, jumping away from him.

  ‘Says here that Woodcock denied all the allegations but could offer no explanation...’ said Dylan.

  ‘It also says the complaint was by a patient and his partner in the practice.’

  ‘Why would a dentist take teeth from a dental practice?’ said Ned.

  ‘According to this he said, for research,’ said Vicky.

  ‘That’s it, that’s his defence?’ said Ned.

  ‘His defence to the theft allegation was that “he had no intention to permanently deprive the practice of the teeth,”’ said Vicky.

  ‘An intention to permanently deprive the owner of property, an important point to prove in the definition of theft,’ said Dylan. ‘There must have been more to it than that?’

  ‘He said he had every intention of returning them to the practice,’ said Vicky. ‘Asked to put a value on them he also classed them as “rubbish with no value.”’

  ‘Interestingly enough, two of the teeth belonged to the woman who had made allegations of indecent assault against him,’ said Dylan. ‘And he had administered gas to relax her, she claimed, prior to the tooth extractions. He hadn’t been pursued for misconduct as he had resigned, but part of the enquiry looked at the excessive number of extractions he had carried out in comparison with other dentists in the district. The inference here being that some of his patients’ healthy teeth may have been unnecessarily removed, by him. Well, he’s certainly just earned himself a place at the top of our actions. Prioritise the research into him Vicky, Raj, get back to me asap.’

  ‘I notice he only got a suspended sentence which expired ages ago,’ said Raj.

  ‘Just out of curiosity I’m interested to know where our lot found the teeth. I’d like to know if they were secreted?’ said Dylan.

  ‘Another one of Harrowfield’s pervs,’ mumbled Ned.

  ‘Hey, don’t talk about Mr Dylan like that DC Granger. He’ll have you thrown off this enquiry quicker than you can say Jack Flash!’ said Vicky with a grin.

  He put his middle finger under her chin this time. ‘Swivel,’ he said.

  ‘Come on, back to work,’ said Dylan with a shake of his head.

  ‘It made you smile though boss,’ said Vicky. ‘And you haven’t been doing a lot of that lately.’

  Dylan sat down in front of his computer. He didn’t realise he had been walking around with such a serious face but he was in no doubt the troops had picked up on his mood. He told himself he had to make a conscious effort to be more upbeat and smile outwardly no matter how flat he felt. He didn’t want them to think the pressure was getting to him, but how could it not be with a dangerous serial killer on the loose?

  The incident room was a hive of industry. On a daily basis, from his office Dylan could see it working like cogs turning in a well-oiled machine. Dylan had access, from his office computer link to read and sign off, in some cases, the daily glut of enquiries. Each action had a unique number given to it at source. A hard copy of that enquiry was printed off and allocated to an investigator on the enquiry team to complete. This document informed them what action was required of them and they would write up the result which then was typed into the computer database. Then the SIO had the ability to see instantly the officers’ work rate in terms of the enquiries/actions issued to them and completed. He would expect the team supervisor, often the sergeant or detective sergeant in the incident room to pick up on anyone who was not pulling their weight, but if they didn’t, he certainly would. Most of the enquiries/actions had to be completed within a maximum of seven days’ duration and if not they would be resubmitted for an extension. This allowed an audit trail and also made sure that no enquiry/action was left dormant. After all, any one of them could potentially change the direction of the enquiry in an instant and no one had the foresight to know which enquiry/action that would be.

  The exhibits category on the HOLMES system allowed Dylan to review the list of exhibits seized and which had been forwarded to Forensic so he was able to review the forensic strategy. All the information was there at his fingertips, including his own policy log. This incorporated, where appropriate, the need for a risk assessment.

  A couple of hours sitting at the computer in one session were enough. He got up and stretched his legs. He was pleased to see that the office was almost empty apart from the specialist HOLMES team who were tapping away on their individual keyboards. This signified to him that the investigators were out doing what they got paid for. He slipped a five pound note in the tea fund jar on Lisa’s desk.

  ‘Is that a subtle hint that you’re thirsty boss?’ Lisa said.

  ‘Well, now you mention it a coffee would be nice. Tell you what. Shall I make one for you for a change?’

  ‘Nice of you to offer boss, but if you just switch the kettle on I’ll see to it,’ she said with a pleasant smile on her face.

  Dylan strolled over to the display boards. There was a separate one set up for each murder which continued to be updated daily with essential details. This visual, quick reference was an instant reminder of vital information for everyone’s purpose. There were now photographs of dental tools, ‘elevators’ and ‘forceps’ plus a human teeth chart. He studied it closely.

  Lisa brought his coffee mug over. ‘It’s not that long ago they used to torture people by pulling their teeth out, is it?’ she said.

  ‘A bit before my time,’ he said. ‘Although come to think of it you could probably class our school dentist as a torturer.’

  ‘Pity it isn’t part of the interview skills allowed today. Then we could instantly identify our regulars by the lack of their teeth.’

  ‘Trouble is Lisa, you’d get people admitting to the crime even if they hadn’t done it so they didn’t have to suffer toothache and it was free to get them removed. Others would probably enjoy it, bizarrely, it appears.’

  ‘Yeah, well it’s just a shame, when you look at the innocent faces of the victims that we can’t still make the evil gits who’ve done it actually suffer for what they’ve done. Mind you, we’d have to have alternative punishment because some of our prolific offenders wouldn’t have any teeth left by the time there were adults.’ Lisa’s young face looked sad.

  ‘You can imagine a solicitor’s face can’t you? The use of body language and other interview techniques have failed, we now intend to extract one of your client’s incisors.’

  ‘They wouldn’t be able to tell their client to keep their mouth shut then would they?’ Lisa laughed heartily.

  ‘Just out of interest has anyone on this enquiry asked for time off for a dental appointment?’

  Lisa laughed. ‘No, that’s bizarre in itself and it’s probably due to the fact that everybody’s a suspect, and on this job dentists more than most.’

  Dylan felt more relaxed. He walked back into his office carrying his
coffee. No sooner had he sat down but his telephone rang.

  ‘Sorry to trouble you sir, but the body of a middle-aged man has been discovered hanging from a tree in the middle of Shrogg’s Wood. Officers at the scene are asking for you to be notified as the deceased’s teeth are apparently missing.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dylan, followed the well-trodden path. Pushed open a sagging gate and waded through tall grasses to the copse where the body had been found. The officers who stood guarding the scene were doing what was required of them. Another body, with teeth missing, but this time found hanging in a wood? Could this really be another in the series of murders or the murderer himself?

  Inspector Stonestreet met him at the outer cordon. PC Tracy Petterson nodded to Dylan. ‘Apparently the body was discovered by a local walking group. One member required hospital treatment so shocked was she by the discovery,’ Stonestreet said.

  ‘Still in situ?’

  ‘Of course sir.’

  ‘Top man. Your thoughts?’

  ‘It doesn’t appear to fit the criteria for your serial killer, but you did say that you wanted notification of any suspicious death which occurred included people with missing teeth in your action plan,’ Peter Stonestreet said studiously ‘and quite rightly so...’

  ‘You taught me to never assume,’ Dylan said with a wry smile on his face.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Dylan walked with him through the cordon once they were booted and suited. The body was hanging from a lower branch of the tree about ten feet from the ground. A rotting fence that had collapsed lay on the ground below and as Dylan tried to walk around the swinging corpse his foot went through the rotting wood. It was smothered in moss and green growth. He looked at the piles of wood around him. A ladder was propped against the tree.

  ‘His?’ said Dylan pointing to the ladders.

  ‘Ours,’ said Inspector Stonestreet.

  ‘How did he get up there then?’

  Inspector Stonestreet shrugged his shoulders. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

  ‘Have we got the Crime Scene Investigation Supervisor out?’ said Dylan.

  ‘She’s here now sir,’ said the PC Petterson.

  Dylan saw the arrival of the CSI van that carried the CSI’s.

  ‘We might need his muscles,’ said Dylan, nodding towards Stewart who was uncurling himself, grimacing as he did so, from the small white van’s passenger seat.

  ‘When you’ve taken the pictures in situ let’s get him cut him down and lay him on a sterile plastic sheet to see what’s what,’ shouted Dylan to the CSIs.

  Karen raised her arm in acknowledgment.

  The uniformed officers looked from Dylan to their Inspector, both supervisors looked at each other and together Dylan and Peter produced a pocketknife from their pockets; much to the relief of the younger officers and the CSIs. Peter Stonestreet and Dylan shared a knowing look.

  The carrying of a penknife was a lesson Dylan had learnt from Inspector Stonestreet many years before when he was a young PC. He too had been called to a person who was hanging from a tree and he had no implement to cut the person down. Luckily for Dylan that person was already dead and there wasn’t a panic to preserve life but it could have been a very different story if the person had only just jumped.

  The expression on a person’s face when they had died through hanging was not a pretty sight. Even from a distance Dylan could see that the man’s face was a grey, purple colour, his jaw hung down and his swollen tongue extruded.

  ‘He needs to be lowered,’ said Dylan, as tempting as it was to cut the rope and let him fall to the ground.

  The youngest PC’s face seemed to darken, and then grow pale and serious under the shadow of his helmet. He took off his hat, and wiped his sweating forehead, flies buzzed around him. He flicked a flustered hand at the pests; like a signal of distress.

  ‘Tony’s first dead body sir,’ said PC Petterson. ‘I’m a tutor now, sir,’ she said, giving Tony a glimmer of a smile. ‘You okay?’ she said.

  Dylan saw a proud look cross her face, her feet were planted far apart, her fists clenched.

  Tony’s gaze fell. He turned about and walked slowly back towards the police car. Once or twice his knees appeared to buckle.

  ‘Go, make sure he’s alright,’ said Dylan. ‘And bring him back when he’s feeling better. I want him to see there is no harm in a dead body, no matter how bad it looks.’

  Tracy nodded.

  Inspector Stonestreet took off his cap and scratched his head. ‘That was a nice thing to do,’ he said.

  ‘I remember my first dead body only too well,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ said Inspector Stonestreet with a wink of his eye. He chuckled.

  ‘Yeah, well, it was the smell, and the fact the house was littered with piles of dog faeces that did it,’ said Dylan.

  ‘That’s what they all say,’ Peter Stonestreet said with a grin.

  ‘Come on. The guy had been rotting in a house with the heating on full for two weeks,’ protested Dylan.

  ‘If I remember, wasn’t his body almost putrified? Sitting on the sofa, his right arm extended outwards as if he was pointing to something.’

  ‘We never did find out what that was, did we? Although it may have been the cannabis on the shelf on the wall ... it looked like oxo cubes didn’t it? Do you recall his ears and nose being missing and so were most of his fingers,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Aye, his glasses had slid halfway down his face. Well, they would do wouldn’t they if you had lost your nose?’ said Stonestreet.

  ‘He still looked human though.’

  ‘Yes surprisingly... I felt sorry for the dogs,’ said Peter.

  ‘They had to be put down didn’t they? Once they’ve tasted human flesh they have to be destroyed. Hardly seems fair does it? It’s not their fault they’d had nothing to eat,’ said Dylan. ‘For all your bravado, you’re an old softy Peter.’

  ‘So are you Dylan,’ he said nodding at the young PC who they watched was being led back to the scene slowly by his mentor, his face still bleached and frightened looking.

  ‘Okay now mate?’ Dylan said.

  Tony nodded sheepishly and looked slightly embarrassed.

  ‘Don’t worry. It happens to us all. Here, have a mint, it helps,’ Dylan said giving the young PC a pat on the back.

  The mint was eagerly accepted.

  ‘I’m ready now to look closely at the body,’ said Karen Ebdon. ‘You okay with that Dylan?’

  The team stood over the body. Karen leant into the face of the deceased with her lens and took the pictures required before they made a closer inspection of the mouth.

  ‘The front teeth, both upper and lower are missing, but they’re not recent extractions,’ said Karen.

  The unknown deceased was approximately forty years of age, thin build, balding with a high forehead and a ginger, woolly beard.

  The gloved, uniformed officers, led by PC Petterson, searched his pockets for any item that may assist in his identification. Inside his coat pocket they found two gum shields with four front teeth on each.

  ‘It appears this one was a waste of your time Dylan,’ said Stonestreet.

  ‘You know me better than that Peter. Nothing is ever a waste of time. I’m just pleased we’ve found the denture plates though, it rules out foul play.’

  ‘There’s a wallet too,’ said Tracy. ‘In his trouser pocket.’

  Tony took the wallet from her and looked inside. ‘Abbott, Neil Abbott, forty-seven years old,’ he said.

  ‘Is there an address?’ said Stonestreet.

  ‘There is sir, yes and pictures of a woman and children.’

  ‘We will do the death notice,’ he said to Dylan.

  Tony bent down to his tutor who handed him a piece of paper she had retrieved from inside the jacket pocket.

  ‘The pain was too bad. I can’t carry on,’ Tony read. ‘That’s so...’

  ‘Sad,’ said Dylan. ‘Yes, it is.’
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  ***

  In the late afternoon heat of the summer’s day Dylan walked back to his car alone. Reaching the car park he heard the gravel beneath his feet crunch loudly. For him it was another dead body dealt with but yet he was no nearer catching the Harrowfield serial killer. A moment of panic rose in him. He felt no hero; something was lacking. He was poignantly aware of fear and failure.

  He lowered his car windows to let the fresh air blow through the car. He hoped it would help clear his head. Along the Sibden Road he passed a row of newly painted cottages. The houses were like brilliant white teeth, below their thatched roofed gums, flashing an ironic grin at him. Teeth! Teeth and dentists were taking over his every thought.

  Parking outside his house he watched the sky grow more blue. He thought of the family of Mr Abbott and he felt sad for around now they would be getting the knock on the door from a police officer that no one wanted. ‘Seize the day,’ he said to himself. ‘Carpe Diem.’

  Maisy ran to greet him, a picture in her hand. ‘Daddy’s home,’ she squealed. Dylan lifted her up into his arms and held her tightly for a moment or two.

  ‘I love you sooo big,’ he said, nuzzling his head into her little neck. She giggled.

  ‘No daddy,’ she exclaimed. ‘I love you sooo much!’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dylan and Vicky watched Rajinder walking towards his office door, knock, open it and walk in. She held papers in her hand.

  ‘Walk around with a bit of paper and folks will think you’re busy Raj,’ Vicky said. She crossed her legs and folded her arms over the paperwork upon her lap.

  DS Raj gave her a tight lipped smile and turned to speak to Dylan. ‘Timothy Woodcock.’

  ‘Yes, Rajinder,’ Dylan said, his eyes gazing upon her face.

  ‘The teeth he took from the dental practice were found displayed on green felt, in a presentation case.’

  ‘I don’t look after my jewellery that well,’ said Vicky with a tut.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Raj. ‘Thirty-two teeth in total.’

  ‘A full set?’ said Dylan.