by David Blake
‘I suspect you’ve been unlucky – or lucky, depending on your point of view. We usually only have a couple of people drown each year, and generally it’s because they’ve had too much to drink and either fall in or decide to go for an impromptu swim.’
‘What about this one?’ he asked, interested to hear her thoughts in a more relaxed, social environment.
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘To be honest, it’s usually bodies of men we find ourselves having to drag out of the water, and the incidents are normally reported immediately by someone who’s witnessed the event first hand, either the victim’s friends or family. This one is obviously different.’
‘What’s your gut feeling?’
‘My gut feeling?’ she repeated. ‘My gut feeling is that I probably shouldn’t have had the chocolate fudge pudding!’
The comment had Tanner nearly snorting coffee out through his nose. ‘Surprisingly, I meant about the case!’
‘Oh, that!’
She thought seriously for a moment. ‘My gut feeling is that the body of the woman is our missing person, and that there’s no way she tripped over on the way back from work.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘It’s the marks on the neck. It’s one thing to fall over and hit your head on a cleat, but it’s quite another to then become entangled in a loose mooring line. And if that blood you found does belong to the victim, then there’s no way that’s what happened. You can’t fall over, hit your head on something hard, get back up again, wander over to the other side of the path, bleed for a bit, and then wander right back to fall in the water, somewhere where there’s a loose mooring line waiting for you to become entangled with.’
After a momentary pause, she added, ‘There’s something else as well.’
‘What’s that?’
‘There are no cleats under the railway bridge, or anywhere along that stretch of the river. The nearest one would be the concrete moorings in Wroxham.’
Thinking about work again, and the day ahead, Tanner checked his watch. Shocked to see that it was nearly eleven o’clock, he said, ‘It’s getting late.’
Looking up, he caught the eye of a passing waiter and signalled to him that they wanted the bill.
Pulling out his wallet in preparation for paying, Tanner asked, ‘Shall I call you a cab?’
‘To be honest, I’d prefer to be called Jenny.’
It was Tanner’s turn to narrow his eyes at her.
‘Sorry,’ she said, in an apologetic tone. More seriously she replied, ‘Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine driving. I only had one glass.’
They took a moment to smile across the table at each other, each allowing themselves to entertain the same thought before dismissing it a second later. As far as Tanner was concerned, if it was too soon to talk to her openly about his recent past, then it was definitely too soon for anything else.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the waiter placing a silver tray on the table with a printed bill. Removing his credit card, Tanner glanced briefly at the total, raising an eyebrow as he did. It wasn’t much less than he was used to paying in London. Somehow he’d thought that being located in the middle of virtually nowhere would mean the cost of a meal would be significantly reduced. Putting that down to his own naivety, that and the fact that he’d hardly travelled around the UK before, he placed the credit card down and began to think of the day ahead, and more immediately of the practicalities of preparing for his second night sleeping aboard his hopefully temporary home.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tuesday, 16th April
HAVING SAID A rather formal goodbye to each other in the gravel-lined carpark outside the Maltsters pub, Tanner watched Jenny climb into her car to begin her journey home, before heading over to his temporary floating retreat.
After shoehorning himself into bed, for the second night in a row he found himself being lulled by the rhythmic sound of water, as it gently lapped against the hull of the boat. He didn’t stir again until the following morning, when the sound of his phone’s alarm brought him out of another deep, dreamless sleep.
He trudged to and from the marina’s shower block, made himself a coffee and dressed in his creased suit, and by just after half past eight he was driving in towards Wroxham Police Station to begin his second day working for Norfolk Constabulary.
His intention was to be at his desk by a quarter to nine, but heavy traffic over Wroxham Bridge and beyond slowed his progress. It was only when he was stop-starting his way up the road towards the station that he worked out the reason. Parked on the kerb directly outside the station was a large white news media van with ‘BBC East’ displayed on the back. Beyond that, a small group of reporters had gathered. Although the van wasn’t blocking the road, judging by the way everyone was slowing down to take a look at what it was doing there, it was fairly obvious it had caused the long tailback.
Turning in to the almost full car park, acutely aware he was being both filmed and photographed, he noticed that not only was Jenny’s car already there, but so was Burgess’s and just about everyone else’s. With the sudden feeling that he was late, he parked up and hurried inside, doing his best to ignore the small gaggle of reporters as he did so.
The main office bustled with activity.
Instinctively, Tanner looked round for Jenny, but her desk was empty. Remembering they’d moved her the evening before, he was relieved to see her now familiar dark brown leather coat and handbag slung over the chair next to his.
Assuming she was making herself a coffee, he nudged past her chair to get to his own desk. He’d only just sat down and turned his computer on, when she emerged from the kitchen carrying two mugs.
Reaching the desk, she asked, ‘Milk, no sugar?’
‘Er, thanks, Jenny,’ he said, taking the one he was being offered. ‘But how did you..?’
With a flirtatious smile, she replied, ‘You look like a milk, no sugar sort of a guy. And I assumed you’d be needing one after spending another night on board that boat of yours.’
Returning her smile, he said, ‘Actually, I slept really well!’
‘Liar!’
Feeling like he was back in the school playground, he retorted, ‘I did!’
Examining his face, she frowned and said, ‘I’m not convinced, I’m afraid. But I suppose you’ll just have to prove it to me one day,’ and gave him a highly suggestive wink.
Tanner could feel himself blush, something else that reminded him of being back at school. Jenny was nothing if not forward, and he took a sip from his coffee, hoping she hadn’t noticed.
Fortunately she seemed to have other things on her mind, as she leaned in towards him and asked, ‘Did you hear?’
‘Hear what?’ he answered, in a similar hushed tone.
‘The post mortem report’s come back.’
Unsure why they were whispering, he leaned forward himself and asked, ‘What did it say?’
‘I don’t know, but Burgess is holding a station-wide briefing at nine o’clock.’
Curious to know why nobody had told him, Tanner glanced down at his watch, and seeing that it was about one minute to, said, ‘So we were right then!’
‘Looks like it!’
At that moment they saw Barrington come marching out of his office, heading over towards the white board at the end of the room. There he was joined by Burgess. After a brief consultation, during which it looked as if Burgess was being instructed by Barrington as to who was going to say what, and when, Barrington turned to face his audience. ‘May I have everyone’s attention, please?’
Almost immediately the various conversations subsided, and everyone looked to where Barrington and Burgess were standing, both wearing similar expressions of stern resolution.
In a commanding voice that carried effortlessly to the back of the room, Barrington began his address.
‘I’m sure you’re all aware by now that yesterday afternoon the body of a young woman was found in the River Thurne, just
down from Thurne Dyke Mill. We’ve yet to formally identify her, but the full post mortem report has now come in, and it’s not good, I’m afraid. According to our forensics medical examiner, Dr Johnstone, the probable cause of death was asphyxiation from strangulation, not drowning as was first thought.’
Barrington paused for a moment to allow a few whispered remarks to circumnavigate the office, before continuing.
‘She’d also received a serious blow to the top of the forehead, caused by some sort of blunt instrument. Dr Johnstone believes this was too severe to have been caused by her tripping over and hitting her head. The angle of the indentation also suggests that she was struck from above, which again is not consistent with someone having tripped. He does believe, however, that she was struck on the head before being strangled, which leads to the theory that her death was very much intentional.’ To help clarify this statement, Barrington added, ‘Had she been the victim of a mugging, then it would seem unlikely that the assailant would remain at the scene to strangle her until she was dead.’
Barrington deliberately paused to let that sink in.
‘Unfortunately, there is another aspect to this young woman’s death which is even more disturbing.’
The office fell into a hollow, expectant silence.
‘Dr Johnstone believes that she was sexually assaulted, but that it took place post mortem.’
As virtually everyone in the office began talking at the same time, Jenny leaned in to Tanner to ask, ‘I assume that means someone had sex with her after she’d been killed?’
Tanner replied with a single nod, before they turned their attention back to the front of the office.
Raising his hands for quiet, Barrington continued, ‘Detective Inspector Burgess will be leading the investigation, under my command of course, so I’ll now hand over to him.’
Burgess was about to take over the briefing when he heard Barrington say, ‘But before I do, due to the serious nature of this crime, I just want to add that Detective Inspector Tanner will be working alongside him.’
Burgess shot Barrington a look of vehement disbelief, before finding Tanner’s face in the audience and scowling at him.
It was fairly obvious to Tanner, and to everyone else, that Burgess hadn’t been included in that decision, although in fairness, neither had Tanner. But he could see why Barrington had decided not to tell Burgess beforehand. Doing so would have given him the opportunity to change Barrington’s mind on the subject, as had happened before.
Looking around at his two detective inspectors, Barrington said, ‘I assume you’re both OK with that?’
Neither Tanner nor Burgess was particularly happy with the decision, Burgess considerably less so than Tanner, but the way they’d been told left them little choice but to accept with a gracious nod and a forced smile.
‘One more thing,’ said Barrington.
As Burgess began to wonder if he was ever going to be allowed to speak, Barrington went on, ‘It’s highly likely that this investigation is going to attract considerable media interest. As many of you will have seen on your way in, there’s already a BBC East news van parked outside. God knows how they heard about it so quickly, but anyway, I hope it goes without saying that under absolutely no circumstances are any of you allowed to talk to them about this case, or any other news organisation for that matter! I also expect you to be discreet when discussing the case with family and friends. And no mention of it is to be made on social media in any shape, manner or form. We all know what a small community the Broads is, and there will be enough rumours flying around without you lot adding to them. Is that understood?’
Barrington glared around the office at everyone as they all either nodded their understanding or verbally agreed.
‘Right,’ said Barrington, turning to Burgess. ‘Carry on.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ acknowledged Burgess, and took a step forward.
‘Our first priority is to identify the body. There was no ID found on her, neither were there any tattoos or other distinguishing marks. The only things we found were some items of jewellery: wedding and engagement rings, one earring and a necklace. Now, as many of you know, a young woman of similar age was reported missing yesterday morning, which DI Tanner and DC Evans have been looking into.’
Directing his attention towards Jenny, Burgess asked, ‘Has there been any further news on that since yesterday?’
After glancing over at Tanner, as if seeking permission to answer, Jenny looked back at Burgess to say, ‘Not yet, sir, no. As you know, we showed the necklace and earring to the husband yesterday, but he was unable to confirm that they belonged to his wife. The wedding and engagement rings still haven’t come back from the medical examiner’s office, so we need to chase those up. As far as I know, the husband is still checking with family and friends. We’ll give him a call straight after this to see if he’s had any luck.’
‘OK. Let me know what he says.’
Sensing he was about to move on, half raising his hand, Tanner asked, ‘Shouldn’t we invite him in to see if he can identify the body?’
‘Only if we had a good enough reason to believe that it’s his wife,’ replied Burgess.
‘But…don’t we?’ questioned Tanner.
After a conspiratorial glance over at DCI Barrington, which led Tanner to believe they’d discussed the idea prior to the briefing, Burgess came back, ‘Had he been able to recognise the jewellery, then maybe, yes, but at the moment, the only similarities are that both women are of around the same age.’
‘Along with sharing the same hair and skin colouring, and the fact that the woman died at around about the same time as our missing girl was last seen.’
Entering the discussion, DCI Barrington said, ‘I think there’s also a concern that the husband may not be able to identify the body due to the state of physical decomposition.’
That was at least a fair comment, but Tanner knew from experience that it wouldn’t prevent someone close to the victim from being able to make a positive ID, no matter how upsetting it would be for them to do so, and with that in mind he asked, ‘But wouldn’t it be helpful to try? The alternative would be to ask either him or her parents for the name of her dentist, or to start a search for samples of her DNA.’
Since reading through the post mortem report with DI Burgess twenty minutes earlier to discover to his horror that it was going to be a full-on murder investigation after all, Barrington had been desperately hoping that the dead girl wouldn’t turn out to be the daughter of John Lambert; but just because he didn’t want her to be, unfortunately didn’t mean that she wasn’t. It would clearly be better for them to find out, one way or the other, and the sooner they did, the sooner they’d be able to bring the matter to a close. So going back on what he’d agreed with DI Burgess before the briefing, he said, ‘OK, you’d better ask him if he’s willing,’ and turned back to Burgess.
Accepting the fact that he was probably going to have to allow Simon Richardson to try to identify the body, Burgess let it go. ‘One thing that’s yet to be mentioned is that we’ve been lucky enough to have recovered a sample of semen from inside the victim, and due to the sexual element of this attack, there’s a very high probability that it belongs to the assailant. DS Cooper and DS Gilbert, I’d like you to start talking to every known sex offender in the area, at least those who’ve displayed an interest in women. Find out where they were on Saturday night between the hours of ten and eleven, and then ask them if they know of anyone with any unusual preferences, necrophilia in particular. Also, run a search for the same through the Police National Database. See if any live nearby, or have recently moved into the area.’
Half raising his hand again, Tanner asked, ‘As a sample of semen’s been found, shouldn’t we collect DNA from Simon Richardson?’
‘Are you suggesting he’s a suspect?’ questioned Burgess.
‘If the body does turn out to be his wife, then I’d put him at the top of the list!’
Begrud
gingly, Burgess said, ‘OK, but only if he identifies her as being his wife.’
After nodding his acknowledgement, Tanner asked, ‘I don’t suppose anything came back on the jewellery we sent over to forensics last night?’
Burgess wasn’t even aware it had been sent over, but neither had he thought to ask, and in the light of recent developments, he knew that was an oversight on his behalf. Not wishing to raise attention to it, even though he knew Tanner must have sent them over without asking permission first, he said, ‘Er…not yet, no.’
‘And how about the blood sample we collected from underneath Wroxham Railway Bridge?’ asked Tanner again. In light of the post mortem’s findings, he knew it was now potentially a key piece of evidence. ‘If it matches the blood of the victim, not only will it give us the murder scene, but as it’s along the route we believe our missing girl took after work on Saturday night, it could give us a positive ID on the body as well.’
Inwardly, Burgess was beginning to fume with embarrassed indignation. This new DI from London seemed to be permanently outthinking him.
Keeping his anger in check, Burgess simply decided to proceed on the basis that he knew about both the jewellery and the blood having been sent to forensics, and so with an indignant glare, replied, ‘I’m fully aware of that, thank you, Tanner! But again, I’ve heard nothing back on either the jewellery or the blood, so I suggest you make it your priority to chase them up.’
Burgess deliberately paused for a moment, before continuing.
‘OK, that’s just about it, but before you go, there’s one more thing that came up in the post mortem. Regrettably, Dr Johnstone also discovered that the murder victim was pregnant. ‘
Everyone turned to stare at the person sitting next to them.
‘He’s estimating she was about midway through; somewhere between fourteen to twenty-seven weeks.’
In the silence that followed, Jenny whispered over to Tanner, ‘Why didn’t Richardson tell us?’
