by Anita Waller
Liam shook his head. ‘No, this poor chap’s been dead a lot longer than two weeks, I’m guessing. It’s a man?’
‘The clothing suggests it is. We can tell you more when we get him out of this hole and back to the morgue. Will you be attending the post-mortem?’
‘I will. I’m struggling to accept this, I’m looking for a missing person from a couple of weeks ago, and I end up with a dead body from… you have any idea?’
‘Maybe three years. The clothes are still recognisable, so I don’t think it’s any longer than that. Shall we say ten o’clock tomorrow morning for the PM?’
‘Thank you. I’ll be there. If there’s anything that shows up in the meantime…’ Liam handed over his card.
The three officers returned to the cars, and once back at the station, he spent five minutes filling Philippa Ray in on the afternoon’s activities.
‘Do you make a habit of collecting bodies?’
‘No, boss. I don’t know where this one came from. It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t, but it is now. So basically we’re no closer to finding James Bell, but we’ve found somebody else who could be anybody. Is that right?’
Liam nodded. ‘It is. But don’t worry. I’ll sort it.’
Philippa couldn’t hide the smile. ‘Get out of here, Liam Norwood. And don’t find any more. We’ve got enough corpses now.’
He headed back to his own desk. Neil and Rosie had been deep in conversation, taking advantage of the empty room. They moved apart as he came through the door.
‘Does everybody know but me?’ he said conversationally, struggling to keep his face straight.
‘What?’ Neil looked guilty.
‘You two. You are an item, aren’t you?’
‘No…’
‘Yes…’
‘So which is it?’
Rosie dropped her head. ‘You’re not supposed to know.’
‘Rosie, love, it’s obvious. Does everybody know?’
‘Nobody knows,’ Rosie said quietly.
‘Wait while tomorrow. You’ll need armour plating.’ Liam laughed. ‘This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, but you’ll pay for that now.’
‘I resign,’ Rosie said.
‘And me,’ Neil said with a groan. ‘Don’t do this to us, boss. You’ll make life impossible.’
‘See you in the morning,’ Liam said with a smirk, and walked out of the office. He heard the stapler hit the door with a thud.
Chapter 21
The Louvre, with the sunshine glistening on the panes of the pyramid turning it into a magical vista, was busy as always. Claudia and Heather joined the queue and went through the security checks before descending down into the great atrium beneath.
‘I can’t believe I’ve never been,’ Claudia breathed, her voice hushed as she tried to take in everything at once.
‘We need to sit down for a while,’ Heather insisted. ‘That was a heck of a time standing up, and it’s going to be a long day. Come on, let’s grab a table and I’ll go get us a drink.’
They chatted about inconsequential things, Claudia took a couple of painkillers, and they set off on the great journey that is the Louvre.
By the time they reached the Mona Lisa area, Claudia was spellbound. She stood in front of the masterpiece and felt tears prick her eyes. She brushed them away as they rolled down her cheeks and she turned to Heather.
‘Thank you so much. I never expected to feel emotions like this, it’s just a painting, but oh my word…’
‘Stay as long as you want. I’m going to sit on that bench over there, and I’ll wait for you. There’s absolutely no rush.’
Heather sat and watched her friend, knowing she was totally overawed by the picture, but just as much by the fact that she was there seeing it.
Ten minutes later, Claudia joined her, and they wandered into various other rooms, looking at the great sculptures, the intriguingly massive paintings, taking in the splendour of everything.
They bought a few souvenirs, then made their way back out, heading towards where they had got off the tourist bus.
Heather suggested they go to l’Opera, and the Galleries Lafayette, shop a little, have a meal at one of the small restaurants, then head back to the hotel.
Claudia responded with a grin. ‘You almost sounded French then,’ she said. ‘That seems a perfect plan.’
By eight o’clock, Claudia was in bed, asleep. She had tried so hard to hide her exhaustion from Heather, but the signs were clear. The walking would have to be minimal for the rest of the holiday.
DS Norwood was at the post-mortem, feeling out of sorts. He didn’t know why, put it down to his instinct being off kilter, but even so, he was a little bit pissed off.
He had dispatched a trio of officers to the crime scene, with little hope of them finding anything, but he had to make the effort. He didn’t expect the post-mortem to reveal anything significant, but in that he was wrong.
It revealed a bus ticket in one of the jeans’ pockets, dated 3rd of June 2014. Whoever the young man was, he had gone missing some three years earlier.
He listened to all the clinical information, picking out and remembering the bits he needed, discovering that the young man was healthy apart from the bullet hole in his back, that the DNA was already in the process of being checked, and results would be back on that within twenty-four hours, and that he was around 5’10” tall.
Liam left the building and walked back to his office, deep in thought. Where exactly was James Bell? He decided he would contact Councillor Monroe again, see if anything had occurred to him, or if he had had any contact. He recognised it was a bit of wishful thinking on his part; if Bell had contacted Monroe, he would have notified the station.
Liam sat down at his desk and stared around him in astonishment. It was tidy, and what’s more it was polished. Even his filing tray was filed.
Rosie’s head was down, working on God knows what, Neil was over by the filing cabinets, and Mark was doing something on his computer. The room was silent.
‘What’s going on?’ Liam asked loudly.
Nobody answered.
‘Rosie?’
‘Yes, boss?’
‘Have you cleaned my desk?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘So where is everything?’
‘On your desk, boss, just tidy instead of all over the place,’ she responded, still looking down at her own desk.
‘Are you creeping, Rosie Havenhand?’
‘Yes, boss.’
Neil exploded with laughter. ‘I’m sorry, boss, I told her it doesn’t matter who knows about us, but she’s desperately trying to stop you blowing the lid on us.’
Mark lifted his head. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Rosie and me. We’re… seeing each other.’
‘Oh that. Is that all? We all know anyway.’ Mark went back to his computer.
That made Rosie lift her head. ‘Am I worrying for nothing? Have I polished that desk for nothing?’
Liam burst out laughing, his bad mood instantly dispelled. ‘Look, it’s absolutely fine. Do what you want with him, but if it ever impinges on what we do, I’ll split you up at work. Understood?’
They both nodded, looking sheepish, then returned to what they had been working on.
Liam went into his emails, and saw he had one from the forensics team who had been at the Gower house. They had expedited the tests and the results showed two different blood types on the work surface above the washer, indicating that the clothes they had removed from the washer had been placed there before being added to the drum. One of the bloods belonged to the owner of the pink toothbrush and silver-backed hairbrush taken from the Gower bathroom and bedroom, the other blood belonged to the owner of the blue toothbrush removed from the Bell bathroom.
Heather Gower and James Bell.
Liam rang through to forensics and ordered a vehicle recovery truck to be sent t
o the Bell address to collect the Sportage parked on the drive. He wanted full forensics on it, and he needed the driver to drop by the station and collect the car key.
He just happened to have it on him.
Friday morning saw Claudia and Heather climbing on board the tourist bus and disembarking at the Eiffel Tower. Once again they went through massive security checks, all the time aware of armed police everywhere they looked. Paris didn’t take kindly to attacks on its citizens and visitors.
They finally shuffled their way to the front of the queue and got into the first lift. Lift by lift, they reached almost to the top, walking the final level.
They stepped out onto the viewing area and gasped at the sight before them. Glorious sunshine lit up the whole of Paris, dazzling them from so high above everything. They stayed for some time, drinking it in, both knowing they would never return to see the vista.
Deflation set in when they reached the bottom; the trip to the top had been worth every euro.
‘Lunch?’ Heather asked.
‘Plat du jour?’ Claudia laughed, attempting the French accent.
They linked arms, and walked for a short distance, settling themselves in at a pavement table. The lunch was delicious, although Heather took note of the minuscule amounts Claudia was eating.
They jumped in a taxi and asked to be taken to the Seine bateau rides, and once again Claudia was overwhelmed. She listened closely to the headphone commentary, and her head swivelled as she took in whatever the commentator was telling her to view.
As they embarked, Claudia stumbled. ‘I’m tired,’ she whispered.
‘Let me help you up the steps so that we’re actually on the road. I’ll get us another taxi, we’ll head back to the hotel.’
Claudia sat on a wall for half an hour while Heather frantically tried to get a taxi. In the end, she had to walk to find a taxi rank, gave them instructions to where Claudia was waiting, and half an hour later they were back in the foyer of their hotel.
Claudia looked grey, and Heather got her in the room, pulled down the bedding on Claudia’s bed, and made her lie down. Within seconds she was sleeping.
Heather was worried. She felt relieved there was just Saturday to get through, and Sunday they would be on their way home.
It had to be a quiet day, Saturday. Visiting Versailles was out of the question, and she didn’t think Claudia would be strong enough for the shopping trip they had talked about.
Heather picked up the room service menu and ordered a croque monsieur, not wanting anything too hefty. When Claudia woke up, they could order something for her.
The meal, trimmed with salad and French fries as only the French can do it, was delicious, and Heather ate it while reading, thankful she had slipped her e-reader into her hand luggage as a last-minute thought.
She finally turned off her bedside light and went to sleep about ten o’clock, without Claudia having stirred. Heather was vaguely aware of Claudia getting up during the night to use the bathroom, but when they both stirred around eight, it was obvious the sleep had helped.
They went down to breakfast, and when Heather asked what Claudia wanted to do, she was surprised by her answer, and relieved.
‘What I would really like to do is go to the Jardin des Tuileries,’ she hesitated waiting for an explosion of laughter from Heather at her accent, ‘and just sit and watch the day go by. It’s beautiful sunshine again, and if we get bored of just sitting and drinking coffee and eating cakes and watching people, then we can go buy a little painting from one of the street artists.’
‘That sounds idyllic. That’s exactly what we’ll do. We didn’t really have time to enjoy it when we went to the Louvre, so I think that will be an excellent way of spending our last day.’
Friday was a good day for DS Norwood. The forensics team working on the car had reported blood in the boot and on the rear bumper, and it had been sent for profiling. They would forward the results as soon as they were available.
Liam put his coffee cup down on the desk and noticed a couple of rings left from earlier movement of the said coffee cup. He licked his finger and attempted to remove them; maybe he might have to buy a can of spray polish and a duster. Or steal Rosie’s stuff.
He turned to his computer and read all the reports his team had filed. He stopped at the one Neil had filed, with Mrs Patterson’s testimony. With the information on the blood in the utility room in the Gower home, this was starting to make more sense. Heather Gower herself had said she was doing all the driving at the moment, because Claudia wasn’t well enough. And he had seen that she wasn’t, she had looked very fragile the last time he had seen her.
The small car Mrs Patterson had seen, and thought it couldn’t be Claudia’s because she never reversed onto the drive, could quite easily have been Claudia’s car, reversed onto the drive for a reason – to load a body from the boot of the Sportage into the smaller car.
But where had that smaller car gone after that?
Sheffield, for all that it had an industrial heritage with its mighty steel works, was also the greenest city in the country, and that meant woodlands, many many woodlands dotted all over the city. They couldn’t possibly check them all, not even with the awesome Bruce at the end of a lead.
‘We need a briefing,’ he stated. ‘We need to put our heads together, try to track down what I’m missing.’
They looked up at him; he’d been quiet all morning. Rosie, Neil and Mark stood and moved over to the corner with the whiteboard displaying pictures, scrawled words and lines connecting the pictures, and question marks everywhere.
Liam stood by the board. The others sat on the chairs round the small desk, commandeered to make life easier, automatically picking up a pen and paper.
‘Right,’ Liam began. ‘We need to get rid of some of these question marks. Heather Gower. It’s looking increasingly as though she’s our main suspect, her blood and James Bell’s blood were both on that worktop in the Gower utility room. Thoughts?’
Rosie tapped her cheek with her pencil. ‘It’s all circumstantial, boss. Without a body, we know nothing. He could be away somewhere, licking his wounds from the break-up of his marriage, trying to decide what to do with his future. Both the families are really close, best friends for a number of years, and just to add fuel to the fire, both had started doing their gardens to get them ready for the summer. Gardening means injuries…’ She held up her bandaged left hand. ‘And that’s where any solicitor will go.’
‘You think that’s it? That I’m clutching at straws? That there is a reason for that blood being there, her clothes being in the washer?’
‘No, of course I don’t. I think that what you’re seeing is absolutely spot on, but someone has to play devil’s advocate before you race out to Robin Hood airport and arrest them as they return from Paris.’
‘So the question marks stay?’
‘I think so. We need a body before we can take this much further. Do we have the results of the forensics on the Sportage yet?’
‘Mark?’
‘Not as of five minutes ago. Give me a sec, and I’ll check.’ He stood and moved to his computer, clicking swiftly on his emails. He pressed print, then headed across the room to pick up the printed copy.
He rejoined his colleagues and handed the sheet to Liam.
Liam scanned it quickly. ‘Both bloods found in the car, and blood from Heather found on the driving seat and steering wheel. No fingerprints, she must have cleaned it, but she couldn’t remove all the blood.’
‘Why her blood?’ Neil spoke for the first time.
‘What?’ Liam turned to face him.
‘Why her blood? If she’s killed him, I can understand his blood being everywhere, but why is hers all over the place as well? Could he have attacked her first, making it self-defence? None of this makes sense.’
‘We need to bring her in. Just for a chat, I reckon. I don’t want to alert her to the fact we have some pretty damning evidence, even if we don’t h
ave a body, because it will give her time to come up with a reason for her being in that car. The evidence can be mentioned once this body surfaces. I’m convinced there is one, somewhere.’
‘Then where was he killed?’ Rosie threw into the discussion. ‘Was there enough blood in the car to prove the exsanguination happened in it, or did he die somewhere else and she put him in the car? Would she have been physically capable of that?’
‘If you’re scared enough, you can do anything,’ Liam responded. ‘And no, it says on here the blood was minimal, so he was already dead when he went in that car boot. If he is dead…’
‘We’re not removing many question marks, boss,’ Neil said. ‘We seem to be adding them.’
Liam groaned. ‘Don’t I know it. Okay, here’s a plan of action. We have our own reports, witness statements and other stuff. I suggest we all read through them once again. Every single one. No skim-reading, get all the details into your mind. Somewhere in there could be one tiny piece of information that will tell us something that we’re not recognising.’
He paused for a moment to look at the whiteboard. ‘And let’s double-check every damn thing on this board. Make notes if something occurs to you, follow it up. We’ll have another briefing Monday morning unless anything happens before then. Claudia Bell and Heather Gower fly back Sunday, but whatever else might arise, we have to remember Claudia Bell is terminally ill, with very limited time left. I don’t believe she’s guilty of anything unless she’s covering for her friend, and she needs our consideration.’
They moved back to their desks; the briefing had been good for them, and they felt rejuvenated as they pulled the different documents up onto their screens.
Liam began with the earliest; the missing person report from Councillor Monroe. Liam read through that, then read the report on the telephone conversation Monroe had had with him. It was, at first, somewhat sketchy, but it opened up a little as he began to talk of his relationship with Bell. It was clear there was a lot of feelings between the two men, the emotion was evident in the Councillor’s words and tone of his voice.
