A Cold Cold Heart

by John Nicholl

  Emily acknowledged the young secretary-cum-receptionist with a subtle nod of her head, as she looked up and beamed.

  Turner pushed up the sleeve of his bespoke suit jacket and checked the time. ‘I need to be in court in a little over an hour. Perhaps Helen would be kind enough to make us both some coffee while I show you your new office.’

  ‘Oh, that would be lovely, thanks. White without sugar for me, please.’

  Helen approached the kettle, resigned to her role, as Emily followed Turner down a brightly lit corridor, surprised and pleased to be getting an office of her own.

  He pushed open the door and stood aside to allow her to peer in. ‘Here we are. This is it. It’s a little on the small side, regrettably, and there’s no window, but it will have to suffice, I’m afraid. Adequate space is the one thing we’re rather short of at Harrison and Turner. The room was used to store various case files prior to your arrival. It’s more of a broom cupboard than a place of business, to be frank. I hope it’s not too much of a disappointment.’

  Emily stood and stared into the claustrophobic box room with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘I was expecting to share.’

  Turner checked his watch again, more obviously this time, as Helen appeared with a mug of steaming coffee in each hand. ‘That’s the spirit. Look on the bright side. Now, you settle yourself in, and we’ll talk just as soon as I get a free hour. I’ve left one or two things on your desk for you to be getting on with. It might be an idea to familiarise yourself with the files before we get together.’

  She accepted her mug gratefully and sat down behind an aged, dark oak desk that filled almost the entire space. ‘Would you have time to talk through your specific requirements? It would be useful to know exactly what’s expected of me.’

  He stiffened. Was she deaf as well as stupid? ‘I’m a little pushed for time. I thought I’d made that perfectly clear.’

  ‘Just a quick run through would suffice. If you can point me in the right direction, I’ll get on with things from there.’

  He raised his arm, made a show of checking the time yet again, and faced her with a contemplative expression on his very attractive face. What size were her feet, a five, or six maybe? Probably a six and a little on the narrow side. ‘There are one or two things I really do have to do before leaving for court.’

  ‘Perhaps later in the day? I really would appreciate it.’

  He turned his head and called out, ‘The diary please, Helen.’

  The young secretary reappeared from reception a few seconds later with the diary open at the appropriate page. ‘You’ve got a child protection case conference at Prince Philip Hospital at two p.m. today. You said you’d be attending. You asked me to remind you.’

  ‘Ah, yes, the Spencer family. I really can’t be late for that one. Mr Spencer is rather relying on us to help him see his children again, if he avoids a custodial sentence. We wouldn’t want to let a client down now, would we?’

  ‘And you’re fully booked for the rest of the day.’

  ‘How’s the rest of the week looking?’

  Helen flicked through the pages, confirming what he already knew. ‘You’re booked solid.’

  Turner met Emily’s hazel eyes as Helen closed the desk diary and walked away. ‘Look, I think the best thing we can do is meet up this evening for a bite to eat. It will give us the opportunity for a proper chin wag, so to speak. I can’t see me finding time otherwise. How would that suit you?’

  Emily wrinkled her nose. ‘What, after work?’

  Wasn’t it fucking obvious? ‘Needs must. It’s the best I can offer, unless you want to leave it until sometime next week? I’ve no objections, if that’s your preferred option. Just say the word; it’s up to you.’

  She struggled for an appropriate response, questioning his motives but not wanting to offend. ‘What sort of time were you thinking?’

  Reel her in, Charles, reel the bitch in. ‘How about we say seven -thirty at the Golden Pheasant in Laugharne? They have a reasonably competent chef and an interesting enough wine list. That would work for me. What do you think?’

  ‘Um…I’d like to, but I can’t place it. I haven’t been to Laugharne for years.’

  He smiled broadly and tapped his watch three times with an outstretched finger. ‘Not a problem. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock sharp. I’m sure Helen will have your address on file.’

  ‘I’m staying at my dad’s place at the moment, in Dyfed Close.’

  Jackpot! ‘Ah, yes, Detective Inspector Gareth Gravel. It would be good to meet him socially. Perhaps you could introduce us?’

  Her brow furrowed as events took an unexpected turn. ‘He’s very busy with the murder investigation – you must have heard about it. He thinks of little else.’

  ‘All those poor girls. One minute alive and full of life, the next dead and gone. Life can be so horribly unpredictable.’

  ‘It’s just awful.’

  His eyes lit up as he stifled a smile. ‘It’s a terrible world…but not to worry. I’m sure your father’s more than capable of heading up the investigation. He seems like a very able man, from the little I’ve seen of him. I’d like to get to know him properly.’

  She nodded. ‘Oh, I’m sure he won’t mind if you say hello.’

  Perhaps buy some more lavender oil. A large bottle or two. ‘Right, I’d better be on my way. Needs must and all that. I’ll see you this evening. Business and pleasure in one helpful package.’

  Emily watched as he turned and walked away. ‘Thank you, Charles. I look forward to it.’

  6

  Doctor Sheila Carter, an eminent consultant forensic pathologist with thirty years’ experience, had already started the post-mortem by the time Grav arrived at Caerystwyth Morgue. She looked up from the stiffening cadaver as he entered the room and acknowledged his arrival with a subtle nod of her head. ‘I was wondering how long it would take you to get here.’

  Grav smiled, revealing uneven, nicotine-yellowed teeth as he approached the dissection table. ‘So, what are we dealing with?’

  ‘You look tired.’

  He chose to ignore her observation and focused on the young woman's bruised and swollen neck with a quizzical eye born of experience. ‘Let’s get on with it, Sheila. I haven’t got time for chit-chat.’

  She prized the victim’s mouth open and peered in. ‘Impatient as always, some things never change.’

  ‘Anything of note?’

  ‘Well, her teeth are still in situ, so there’s no reason we can’t compare dental records, when given the opportunity.’

  ‘How did she die?’

  She turned her head, looked up at him, and scowled. ‘I’ve not long started the examination. I should have a full report ready and waiting for you by about four o’clock this afternoon. Do you think you can manage to wait that long?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Sheila. Do we have to go through this every fucking time? Surely the bruising to her neck gives the game away. It doesn’t take a medical protege to work that out. I’m just looking for your early assessment, first impressions, that’s all. I won’t hold you to it. Just tell me what you’re thinking.’

  She looked down and pushed the young woman’s head to one side then the other. ‘There’s no likelihood of you shutting up unless I tell you, is there?’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re consistent… I’d say she was strangled, while laying on her back, by someone straddling her – sitting on her abdomen or chest. The attacker would have had to apply considerable force to inflict this degree of damage. Her windpipe is crushed, and there’s extensive bruising to the front and sides of her neck. Whoever did this is a powerful individual with relatively large hands. You can quote me on that, if you like.’

  ‘Okay, that’s a start.’

  She held out her hands in front of her, as if squeezing someone’s neck until they breathed their last. ‘Like this, see? With the fingers to the sides of the neck and the t
wo thumbs pressing down forcibly on the exposed windpipe. The poor girl never stood a chance. It would have been over in a matter of seconds.’

  ‘Was she raped?’

  The pathologist sighed theatrically. ‘I was just coming to that. I completed my internal examination shortly before your arrival.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She’d had both vaginal and anal intercourse either shortly prior to, or soon after death. Rectal and vulval injuries strongly suggest that the sexual activity was both frenzied and violent. I think we can safely assume it was non-consensual.’

  ‘Much like the other victims.’

  She nodded twice. ‘Absolutely, Grav. It appears to be the same killer, as I’m sure you’ve already surmised. He dispatched her much as he did the others and inflicted very similar injuries in the process. Although, in this case, there is one very significant difference.’

  Grav clasped his hands to his chest. ‘What are we talking about exactly?’

  ‘There were traces of seminal fluid in the reproductive tract.’

  ‘You’ve found semen?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘Sufficient for DNA profiling?’

  Carter paused, knowing Grav was on tenterhooks, and making him wait. ‘Oh, yes, there’s no problem in that regard. We should have the results within a day or two, if I get the samples off this afternoon. I’m sure they can be rushed through, given the circumstances.’

  ‘I’ll make fucking sure they are. You can count on it.’

  ‘I think you’ve had a notable break, our man’s getting careless.’

  ‘This could be it, Sheila. Let’s hope the bastard’s on the National Database. I want him off the streets and fast.’

  She took a scalpel and prepared to make her first incision. ‘I was thinking much the same myself.’

  ‘I’m guessing the markings to her wrists and ankles mean she was tied up at some point?’

  ‘You know she was, Grav. Just like the others. I’d say she was restrained for four or five days, given the colour of the bruises.’

  ‘Laura told me she was dressed much the same as the others.’

  ‘I had a very similar dress as a young girl. Have you checked out where you can get hold of that sort of stuff these days? We’re not talking designer. But it’s nice quality. It will have cost a bob or two when it was new.’

  ‘Yeah, there’s any number of charity shops and a few vintage stores in the area. I’ve got one of the team looking into it for me, but I don’t hold out much hope. She’s come up with nothing so far. He could be getting them anywhere.’

  ‘I was thinking maybe all the victims could be members of some club or other. You know, where they dress up and recreate times gone by. Some people do that sort of thing.’

  Grav shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so, Sheila. The two girls we’ve identified were working as prostitutes to fund a chronic drug habit. There’s some suggestion that the first victim had an unusual dress sense, but there’s nothing to say the second was anything other than conventional. I’m guessing the killer probably provided the clothes himself.’

  ‘Fetish?’

  ‘Yeah, something like that.’

  ‘Of course. That’s why you’re the detective and I’m the doctor.’

  She returned to her dissection as Grav shook his head slowly and deliberately, pondering humanity’s seemingly unlimited capacity for evil. ‘Have you got an estimated time of death for me?’

  ‘You don’t let up, do you? Can’t you wait for my report like everyone else?’

  ‘A best guess based on the available information would be appreciated. Just give me something to work with.’

  She remained focused on her dissection and talked as she worked. ‘Well, given her rectal temperature on arrival, and the degree of rigor mortis in the muscles, I’d suggest she was killed no more than three to four hours before being found. I’ll take a temperature reading from the liver in due course, which will provide a more accurate core body temperature, and that should help me confirm my initial observations, although I doubt my conclusions will change significantly. Is that good enough for you?’

  ‘Thanks, Sheila, it’s appreciated. Is there anything to help us identify her, beyond her immediate description?’

  ‘She’s had her appendix removed at some point.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘There’s a tattoo of a stereotypical red heart on her left buttock. It’s about three inches by two inches, with a name: Simon. I’ll include the full details in my report. That should suffice.’

  ‘Okay, that’s helpful. I’ll ask Laura to check the missing persons records. You never know your luck.’

  Carter began examining the stomach contents, as Grav took a single step backwards, fighting his gag reflex despite his familiarity with the process. ‘Right then, Grav, is there anything else you want to know before you shut up and leave me to get on?’

  ‘Just her natural hair colour?’

  ‘Light brown, from what I can see. There’s some recent growth under her arms and in the pubic area.’

  ‘Mousey?’

  ‘A little darker.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘There’s half a packet of chocolate biscuits in my office, if you fancy one before heading off, the kettle’s on the windowsill.’

  He turned and walked in the direction of the door. ‘Splash of milk and one sugar?’

  ‘Yes, you know how I like it. I’ll just give my hands a quick swill, and I’ll be with you in two minutes. I can finish this later. I wanted a quick chat with you about sponsoring my niece. She’s doing a ten-mile bike ride to raise money for her youth club.’

  ‘Is it all right if I light up a cigar?’

  She gave a little wry smile. ‘Are you going to put your hand in your pocket?’

  Grav sighed. ‘Will twenty quid do you?’

  ‘Very generous. She’ll be delighted.’

  ‘Can I use the phone to give Laura a quick call? I can never get a signal down here for some reason.’

  She approached the sink and began washing her hands thoroughly, right up to her elbows. ‘Of course, no problem. The quicker we find out who this young woman is, the better. How is Laura, by the way? I haven’t seen her for weeks.’

  ‘She was off work for some time after a miscarriage. It’s not something she’s made public, so keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How’s she coping?’

  ‘She’s throwing herself back into the work and trying to get on with her life. Keeping busy, you know what I’m saying. I did the same thing when Heather passed. Less time to think.’

  ‘She’s got to grieve, just like you had to, Grav. Burying your head in the sand doesn’t help anybody. You should know that better than most.’

  ‘Yeah, I found that out all right. Heather’s death hit me right in the gut like a physical blow.’

  ‘This is where you usually swear, loudly and crudely, and kick something.’

  ‘Fucking cancer.’

  ‘There it is. That’s the Grav I know and love. Now, put the kettle on, light the cigar you mentioned, and telephone that DS of yours. The quicker you give her the description, the quicker she can get on with her enquiries.’

  ‘You think?’

  She switched off the mixer tap and began drying her hands with a paper towel. ‘You’re becoming somewhat sarcastic in your old age, if you don’t mind me saying so. Has anyone ever told you that?’

  ‘They have, Sheila, more times than I care to remember. The detective chief superintendent said much the same thing only last week, God bless her.’

  She grinned. ‘And with very good reason no doubt. Have you got any good news for me? Something to restore my flagging faith in humanity?’

  He took a cigar from a packet of five, held it to his nose to appreciate the rich, aromatic tobacco, but didn’t light it. ‘Emily’s back home from Cardiff. She’s joined a local law firm after splitting up with her boyfriend.
’

  ‘Oh, that’ll be nice for you. My two are still in America. I miss them terribly.’

  He held the door open and allowed her to enter her small magnolia office, piled high with medical text books and scientific papers on every conceivable surface. ‘I’m going to be crapping myself every time Emily goes out on her own until we catch this bastard, that’s the truth of it.’

  Carter switched on the kettle and began spooning instant coffee granules into two matching pottery mugs. ‘Do you think you’re any nearer to catching him?'

  ‘We had fuck all, Sheila. I really thought the bastard was on top of his game, but maybe not. Maybe he’s blown it. I’m hoping today’s the day our luck’s changed. Laura found a fag butt and footprint close to our latest victim’s head, and now, there’s the semen. Any one of those three could be game changers.’

  7

  Grav parked his West Wales Police Mondeo in the busy Caerystwyth headquarters car park, just as the sun broke through the grey clouds and bathed the world in light. He said a quick hello to Sandra on the front desk and used the lift, rather than ascend the three flights of stairs, to reach the training room that was serving as a serious incident room for as long as required. His arthritic knees were particularly problematic in the winter months, despite regular anti-inflammatory medication, so it seemed sensible. Less effort and less pain.

  DS Kesey was entering information pertinent to the investigation on the computerised H.O.L.M.E.S crime intelligence system when Grav pushed the door open and entered the room. She looked up and stifled a laugh as he took off his padded jacket, which his subordinates secretly joked made him look like the Michelin Man on steroids, and slowly approached her.

  ‘What the hell happened to your eye?’

  She raised a hand to her right cheek and touched a swollen welt that was gradually turning blue. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, just kick-boxing.’

  ‘What, again? You look as if you’ve gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson.’

  ‘Yeah, I was waiting for that one.’

  ‘What was it, a competition or something?’