Broadland

by David Blake

  Stopping where he was, Burgess spun back. With an expression of near total incomprehension, he glared first at the new DI, then at Barrington. ‘Tanner?’

  ‘Yes, Tanner!’ repeated Barrington, focussing on his new DI, who looked about as surprised as anyone.

  ‘But sir,’ protested Burgess. ‘He hasn’t been here for more than five minutes! You can’t possibly give it to him!’

  ‘I’m fully aware how long he’s been here, thank you, Burgess, but at the end of the day, he’s got a hell of lot more experience of this sort of thing than you have.’

  ‘But he’s not even from around here, sir! He doesn’t know who anyone is – he doesn’t even know where anything is! He wouldn’t have a single bloody clue as to where to start!’

  ‘And you would, I assume?’

  Burgess looked Barrington straight in the eye. ‘I believe I would, yes!’

  ‘And what if it turns out to be a murder investigation? When was the last time you led one of those?’

  An awkward silence followed.

  Burgess had never led a high-profile case such as a murder investigation before. He knew that, just as Barrington did, but he was damned if he was going to admit to it; certainly not in front of the new DI. ‘But at this point there’s nothing to suggest that it is a murder, sir. She’s probably just another stupid tourist who fell in the river and drowned.’

  Barrington thought for a moment.

  Burgess was right, of course. That was the most likely explanation. If it wasn’t, and there was a more nefarious reason behind it, then he was going to need someone with a lot more experience than Burgess could bring to the table. Until they knew otherwise, however, maybe it would be more sensible to let Burgess lead.

  Sensing he was on the verge of changing his mind, Burgess backed up his argument by saying, ‘I can handle it, sir!’

  With a reluctant sigh, Barrington said, ‘Very well, but I at least want Tanner around to assist you.’

  Looking Tanner up and down with a gleeful sneer, Burgess said, ‘As long as it’s clear that he’s only my assistant, I don’t have a problem with that.’

  Deciding to allow the derogatory remark that had obviously been aimed at his latest recruit to slide, Barrington looked over at Tanner, still standing to attention in front of him, and asked, ‘I assume that’s OK with you?’

  With an ambivalent shrug, Tanner said, ‘I’m happy to work in any capacity you see fit, sir.’

  ‘Right! That’s settled then.’

  ‘What about me, sir?’ piped up Jenny, who until then had been happy to stand beside Tanner, keeping her mouth shut.

  ‘You may as well stay with Tanner for now,’ replied Barrington. ‘At least until we know who this dead girl is, and if there are any suspicious circumstances surrounding it.’

  Concluding the meeting, Barrington said, ‘OK, that’s it! You three had better head straight down there. And Burgess?’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Report back to me the minute you find out anything.’

  Delighted with the result of the meeting – that he was finally going to have the lead on what he hoped would end up being a murder investigation, plus the fact that the new DI had effectively been assigned to be his assistant, with a malevolent smile aimed squarely over at Tanner, he replied, ‘That won’t be a problem, sir.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BACK IN THE XJS, Tanner and Jenny followed DI Burgess’s non-descript dark blue saloon out of Wroxham Police Station, past Horning, over the River Ant, and through Ludham. After that came Potter Heigham, where they crossed the River Thurne, and took a series of ever-narrowing country lanes that eventually led into the small village of Thurne, near to where the woman’s body had been found.

  Driving slowly into the village, up ahead Tanner saw a row of emergency vehicles parked up on a grass verge, opposite a red telephone box that looked as if it could have done with a coat of paint. The vehicles included a squad car, an ambulance, and a police forensics services van.

  Seeing Burgess reverse up onto a grass verge directly behind them, Tanner did the same.

  With the engine off, and the handbrake on, he took a moment to have a look around.

  They’d arrived at the end of what Jenny explained was Thurne Dyke, a short narrow channel that led out into the River Thurne, which was apparently a popular place for mooring.

  They got out of the car to see Burgess beckoning with some impatience for them to join him.

  As they approached him, Burgess fixed a stare at Tanner and in a condescending tone, called out, ‘We’ll have to make our way by foot from here,’ as if walking to the scene of a possible crime wasn’t something city-bred Tanner would have ever done before.

  Without waiting for a response, Burgess marched off, over the grass verge, down to a tow path which led out past a long line of small motor boats moored up on the left side of the dyke.

  Setting off after him, as if to excuse her colleague’s rather off-hand manner Jenny said, ‘He’s probably just nervous. Tommy, I mean DI Mills, used to take the lead on this kind of investigation. This is Burgess’s first one.’

  Tanner wasn’t bothered. He’d been expecting to be treated with a degree of contempt by his new colleagues, especially by those who shared the same rank as him.

  As he continued to cast a casual eye over his surroundings, in a relaxed, conversational tone, he said, ‘I suppose you don’t get many bodies turning up around here.’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ she said. ‘Not as many as London, of course, but enough to keep Tommy busy, especially during the silly season.’

  ‘I assume by that you mean the summer?’

  ‘It’s more from April to October. It’s already begun to pick up. Next weekend is Easter, and that always brings hordes of tourists. And they’ll keep coming, right up until the schools’ half term holidays in the Autumn.’

  Taking an interest in the many small boats they were strolling past, Tanner said, ‘Barrington mentioned something about how you get over eight million visitors a year.’

  ‘I think he tells everyone that on their first day,’ Jenny replied. ‘He told me something similar when I first started. It never seems quite that many, but apparently it’s true.’

  ‘And I suppose most of them take out hire boats?’

  ‘Not as many as you might think, but a lot of them do, yes. It wouldn’t be a problem if half of them knew how to use them, but most of them don’t; and when you add alcohol into the mix, unfortunately the fact that one or two of them never make it home does become a little inevitable.’

  ‘What about you? Where are you from?’

  ‘Oh, I’m a Horning girl,’ she answered, quickly adding, ‘No jokes please!’

  With a boyish smirk, Tanner said, ‘Heaven forbid!’ But he couldn’t resist, and feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, said, ‘So you don’t go around feeling permanently horny?’

  Pretending to be upset, Jenny glared up at him. ‘I said, no jokes!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Tanner, turning away to hide his grin. ‘I couldn’t help it.’

  ‘No? Well, don’t worry. It’s to be expected, I suppose.’ She turned her face away slightly, muttering under her breath, just loud enough for Tanner to hear, ‘But I do, though.’

  Finding himself about as aroused by the comment as he was embarrassed, Tanner wasn’t sure where to look. He’d never heard such an attractive young lady say anything quite so openly sexual about themselves, at least not when they were sober, and certainly not when the comment had been for his personal benefit.

  Seeing his reaction from out of the corner of her eye, she gave him a cheeky smile and said, ‘Only joking, Gov!’

  Not entirely convinced that she was, Tanner looked down at the cute curve of her nose. ‘I didn’t think nice girls were supposed to say things like that?’

  ‘Who said I’m a nice girl?’ she questioned. ‘Besides, I doubt you’ve ever met one from Horning before.’

  ‘I
haven’t, no, but at least I now know what to expect!’

  Reaching the end of the dyke, where Burgess had turned left to follow a well-trodden grass path that led down along the river’s edge, Tanner stopped to look over at the wide river channel that was laid out before them, and then turned to gaze up at Thurne Dyke Mill on the right, an impressively tall white windmill with four giant blades, each one made up of white trellis-like panels.

  Seeing what he was looking at, Jenny said, ‘It used to be a water pump. Very popular with the tourists.’

  ‘I can see why!’ exclaimed Tanner, taking a moment to admire it before turning his attention back to where Burgess had gone.

  As they followed him, heading in the opposite direction came two paramedics, and behind them a young family: two adults, presumably the parents, and three children. The tallest of the children was a skinny blond boy with a lightly freckled face. He looked incredibly pale, and was walking hunched over, clutching at a foil blanket draped over his shoulders.

  Tanner assumed he must be the person who’d found the body, but he didn’t stop to ask the family anything. Instead, he just nodded at the leading paramedic and continued to walk past.

  Up ahead, Burgess had begun talking to a couple of uniformed police officers. The three of them were standing next to a dull white motor boat, the bow of which was pointing towards them, tied up to a purpose-built mooring platform. Beyond them was a diver clad in a glistening black wetsuit, who was busy wrestling a cylindrical oxygen tank off his back.

  Drawing closer, they could see a couple of forensics officers dressed head to foot in their customary white overalls, leaning over the back of the boat, and kneeling on the mooring platform was another, staring down at something on the ground. It wasn’t until they reached Burgess when they were able to see what it was.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BURGESS DISMISSED THE uniformed constables, turned to face Tanner and Jenny, gestured up towards the other end of the boat and said, ‘They’ve only just pulled her out.’

  ‘I assume the boy we passed on the way here was the one who found her?’ asked Tanner.

  Burgess nodded. ‘Not unsurprisingly, he’s in a bit of a state, as is his dad; but they’ve both been able to give statements. The propeller must have sucked the body in when they were reversing, stopping the engine. They nearly ended up floating off down the river. It was only after they’d managed to pull the boat back in that the boy saw her.’

  Tanner tried to see more from over Burgess’s shoulder, but the forensics officer was blocking his view. All he could see was bare legs and shoeless feet.

  ‘Any idea what sort of age she is?’

  ‘No idea. Our medical examiner, Dr Johnstone, is taking a look at her now.’ With some reluctance, he added, ‘I suppose we’d better see how he’s getting on.’

  Finally Tanner was able to see the girl’s face. Her faded blue eyes were staring out through clumps of tangled wet hair. Her skin was sunken and white, her lips purple and still.

  He stopped.

  His mind drifted to another, similar scene.

  He was standing under a street light in London, rain running down his face, staring at another girl, her face horribly beaten, her body twisted and broken.

  Jenny looked around to see what was wrong.

  Seeing the haunted look in Tanner’s deep brown eyes, with natural concern she asked, ‘Are you OK?’

  Shaking his mind free of the memory, he focussed his eyes on Jenny’s.

  In that brief moment he found himself desperate to tell her what had happened, all those months before. How he’d been called to attend a suspected murder scene to find the body of a girl, sprawled half-naked in a gutter, beaten almost beyond recognition. How he’d refused to believe who she was, despite seeing the bracelet he’d given her for her nineteenth birthday. And how he’d not been allowed to investigate her death, leaving him with a shameful sense of worthlessness, impotence, and guilt.

  The moment passed.

  Regaining control of his thoughts with an effort, he sent her an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, yes, I’m fine. I was just…thinking about something.’

  Burgess, meanwhile, had edged his way around the body.

  Crouching down opposite the medical examiner, he asked, ‘What do we have?’

  After a quick glance up, seeing that it was Burgess the doctor said, ‘It would appear to be a dead body!’

  Ignoring the obvious sarcasm, something Dr Johnstone was renowned for, with less ambiguity, Burgess asked, ‘Do you have any idea how she died?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t, but I’ve only just arrived myself.’

  Burgess pressed him for more. ‘Could she have drowned?’

  ‘There are signs that she may have done, yes. However, there are other injuries which will need further exploration.’

  From his position standing directly behind the medical examiner, Tanner pointed down and asked, ‘How about those marks on her neck?’

  Not recognising the voice, the doctor glanced around, and raised an eyebrow at him. ‘And you are…?’

  Realising he probably should have introduced the new DI a little sooner, Burgess said, ‘Dr Johnstone, this is Detective Inspector Tanner. He’s just joined us from London, and currently working on Missing Persons.’

  ‘I assume you’re thinking that this may be one of them?’ the doctor asked.

  On Tanner’s behalf, Burgess answered, ‘That’s what we’re hoping to find out.’

  Returning to look at the body, the doctor began a brief summary of his findings so far.

  ‘The bruising around her neck could be significant. It’s certainly consistent with someone who’s been strangled, but it could equally have been caused by something catching around her neck, after she’d fallen in. A lose mooring line, for example. The injuries to her abdomen are definitely post-mortem, most likely to have been caused by the boat’s propeller; but there’s also this.’ He leaned forward, towards her face, and pointed at the top of her forehead. There, between two thick strands of hair, they could see a half-moon shaped indentation, dark purple in colour, the skin of which was broken around the top.

  Having seen similar injuries before, Tanner suggested, ‘A hammer?’

  ‘Possibly,’ replied the doctor. ‘But it could equally have been caused by her falling onto something, like a mooring cleat, for example, or maybe a boat stanchion. It would have had to occur before she went in the water, though. A body will always float face down, so any injuries caused by passing boats would only appear on the back of her head, not the front.’

  Leaning forwards to take a closer look, Burgess asked, ‘Any idea of a time of death?’

  ‘Around thirty-six hours ago, give or take.’

  ‘So, sometime on Saturday night?’

  ‘I’d say around then, yes, but I’ll have a better idea when I get her back to the lab.’

  ‘And no sign of any ID?’

  ‘None that I’ve found, no.’

  ‘Distinguishing marks, tattoos?’

  ‘Nothing so far.’

  Having seen enough, Tanner turned to look over at Jenny and asked, ‘I don’t suppose you still have that photograph?’

  At first, Jenny didn’t seem to hear the question, as she did nothing but stare down at the girl’s body.

  Since she’d first seen it, in particular the way her stomach had been ripped apart, leaving nothing but a grotesque mass of churned up flesh, Jenny had momentarily forgotten where she was, or even what she was supposed to be doing. She hadn’t even taken out her notebook.

  Seeing how she was transfixed by what lay before them, Tanner snapped her out of it by repeating, ‘The photograph, Jenny!’

  She came back with a start, and muttered, ‘Sorry. Of course. Yes,’ and began fumbling with the zip of her handbag.

  Eventually she pulled out the photograph that Richardson had given them earlier that day.

  Taking it from her, Tanner stared first at it, then down at the dead girl.


  ‘Is it her?’ questioned Burgess.

  Despite the fact that the young woman beaming a smile at them from the photograph looked nothing like the body stretched out before them, Tanner said, ‘I’d say it is.’

  Snatching the photograph out of his hands, Burgess studied them both. But as far as he could make out, the two looked nothing like each other. One was a picture of an attractive young woman with inviting eyes and a vivacious smile, whilst the other was a half-bloated corpse that had just been pulled off the propeller of a boat.

  Handing the photograph back to Tanner, Burgess said, ‘They don’t look anything like each other!’

  ‘Well no, but in fairness, they rarely do. I was going more by the similarities of age and hair colouring, and that the estimated time of death coincided with the time our missing person was last seen.’

  ‘Well, I can’t say I’m convinced!’

  ‘She was married, if that helps,’ interjected the doctor.

  He was looking over at her left hand where there was a gold wedding band, along with a matching engagement ring. Surrounding them, the skin bulged to the point where it looked as if it was about to burst. Ideally he’d have removed all items of jewellery at this stage, but it was rare for him to be able to take rings from fingers. They normally had to be removed by other means during the post-mortem process.

  ‘She’s also wearing a necklace and an earring, which someone may be able to recognise.’

  ‘Only one earring?’ questioned Tanner, remembering the one they’d found under the railway bridge earlier that day, and kicking himself for not having thought of it sooner.

  ‘Only one, yes,’ confirmed the doctor. ‘The other one looks like it was torn off at some point.’

  Tanner and Jenny were thinking the same thing, that if the missing earring matched the one they’d found earlier, then they’d most likely have already discovered where she’d been killed. Jenny reached into the outside pocket of her handbag, took out the clear plastic evidence bag containing the earring, and passed it over to the man who she was beginning to think of as her boss.