‘On first inspection of the scene, I would say no. This looks to me like the classic deposition site. There are no signs of a struggle, none of the surrounding vegetation has been damaged, and there are no signs of his clothes nearby. No, in my opinion, this is where he was dumped after his death.’
Rob bent forward and asked, ‘Anything obvious on the body that might help with identification?’
‘Nothing that I can see. Identification will probably be down to dental records. You can ask your Scenes of Crime team to come forward now. I’ve seen all I need to see, thanks. Have you arranged for removal of the child yet?’
‘Not yet, Seamus. I want Tim and his team to photograph everything in situ first. I also want them to get samples of the leaf and soil debris used to cover the body. Once that’s all done, I’ll arrange for removal to the mortuary at Mansfield. My best guess is that we’ll be in position to remove the body in a couple of hours. Have you anything planned for this afternoon? Obviously, I want this post-mortem to take priority.’
‘Of course, Danny, without question. Everything else can wait. I’ll remain here with Tim and his team until the child is removed. I’ll see you later at the mortuary.’
‘Much appreciated. See you later.’
Danny and Rob passed Tim Donnelly on the way back down the track.
Danny said, ‘Tim, I want you to concentrate on the tyre tracks. Get a good cast and plenty of photographs. Make sure you also get soil samples from various points along the track from the base of the tyre marks. Seamus Carter is of the opinion that this is the deposition site, so those tyre marks could turn out to be vitally important. Do you need anything else here before I resume?’
‘No. We’ve got everything covered here.’
As the two detectives got out of their forensic suits at the side of the car, Danny said, ‘Any first thoughts, Rob?’
‘I agree totally with Seamus; the kid’s been dumped here after the act. Other than that, it’s too early to say. First things first, let’s get him identified and see where that takes us.’
‘Radio ahead and start the ball rolling on any outstanding missing persons. I want checks made on any that fit the parameters of a white male, aged between nine and thirteen years. Also arrange for a section of the Special Operations Unit to be travelling to this location. As soon as Tim and Seamus have finished here, and the body’s been removed, I want that whole area fingertip searched. Tell them to tape off ten yards either side of the track and search every inch.’
‘Anything else for immediate action, boss?’
‘Yes. I want detailed weather reports for every day over the last three weeks. I also want one of these newfangled plant experts called in. I want samples of all the plant life recovered from the body and the surrounding area. I was reading about it just before I went away. Seamus is an expert on infestation, so he’ll be able to help us out with that side of things. He’ll be able to narrow down the time of death quite tightly by what grubs and insects he finds in and on the body. Can you think of anything I’ve missed?’
‘I’ll arrange for a CCTV trawl in this area, looking for a wide wheelbase van or similar over the past month.’
‘Good call. Like you say, first things first: Let’s get the poor kid identified. Someone somewhere will be missing him. Do you know what flashed through my mind when I first saw the body?’
‘Jimmy Wade?’
‘Exactly that. Jimmy bloody Wade!’
8
23 June 1986
South Lodge, Retford
The sun was high in the sky and already extremely hot, so going into the stone outbuilding meant stepping into some welcome cool shade.
But that welcoming shade turned cold and forbidding for Melissa Braithwaite when Jimmy Wade gripped her arm tightly and dragged her inside. He growled, ‘Come on. Hurry up and get in here. I want to show you what I’ve done. I need you to cast your eyes over my handiwork.’
Braithwaite let her eyes become accustomed to the gloom inside the small outbuilding.
Built entirely out of the same sandstone used to build the main lodge, the smaller outbuilding had originally been intended as a storehouse for tools and equipment used by the gamekeeper. It was a small space, measuring only eight feet by eight feet square. Apart from the door, the only other feature was a small six-inch square window. This window was set high above the floor and couldn’t be opened.
Jimmy Wade had dug down into the floor, and there was now a six-inch step down from the door. This meant that the solitary window was now at least seven feet from the floor and couldn’t be reached.
As her eyes became used to the gloomy light, Melissa looked around. She stood with her back to the door and could see that two sets of manacles had been fitted to the walls, both to the left and to the right.
The steel manacles had been bolted into the stone wall and were on short lengths of sturdy chain that looked to be about eighteen inches in length.
She shuddered involuntarily and asked in a quaking voice that was barely a whisper, ‘What are they for, Jimmy?’
Wade laughed out loud and said, ‘They’re for when our guests come to stay, of course. Before they get here, I need you to test them out.’
Instinctively, Melissa backed away from Wade.
He shouted, ‘Come here!’
Looking down at the floor, she stepped forward towards her tormentor.
Wade grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her towards the nearest set of manacles. Braithwaite didn’t resist. She knew if she tried to struggle, he would simply beat her first and then still do what he wanted.
She felt the coldness of the steel manacles clamp tightly around her petite wrists.
Because of the short length of chain, she was forced down onto her haunches. Eventually, for comfort, she turned and sat on the cold dirt floor. Her arms hung limply, suspended by the manacles.
He yelled at her, ‘Well, don’t just sit there like an idiot! At least try to get out. Start yanking on the chain. I want to see if the bolts are fixed.’
Braithwaite did as she was ordered and began to pull with all her might against the fixings. Nothing moved. Soon her wrists were sore and starting to bruise, and she stopped struggling.
‘God, you’re pathetic! Look at you, just sitting there with that stupid look on your face! I might just leave you in here for the rest of the day, to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want?’
‘I’m sorry, Jimmy. My wrists hurt; I can’t do it anymore. Please don’t leave me out here. It’ll be freezing cold tonight. Let me come back to the house with you. I’ll make you happy, I promise.’
‘If I let you go, will you help me collect our first house guest?’
‘Of course. I’ll do anything you tell me to do.’
‘Do you promise me?’
‘I promise.’
‘Very well, sweetheart. Let me unlock those restraints.’
He bent forward and kissed her as he used the small brass key to unlock the manacles. ‘You know I love you with all my heart, don’t you?’
‘I love you too, Jimmy.’
He helped her up off the floor, squeezed her tightly and whispered, ‘It will be such fun tonight. You’re going to love it. Let’s go inside the house, and I can tell you what we’re going to do.’
She smiled at him, but inside she was filled with dread.
9
23 June 1986
Public Mortuary, Mansfield, Nottinghamshire
A sombre, depressing mood hung over the examination room in the public mortuary at Mansfield.
Laid out on the stainless-steel examination table was the small body of a young boy. Standing to one side of the table was Seamus Carter in his green robes. The sheer size of the Irish pathologist made the body of the child look even more insignificant. All the debris and dirt had been carefully removed from the body; samples were taken as it was removed.
Standing slightly back from the other side of the table were Danny Flint and Rob Buxton. The
y were also dressed in the surgical green robes. At the foot of the table stood Stephen Brewer. As the senior Scenes of Crime officer, he would be responsible for making a video recording of the post-mortem. The only other people present were Stephanie Bridges, Seamus Carter’s assistant, who was ready and waiting with a camera to photograph anything her boss requested, and DC Nigel Singleton, who had been given the task of Exhibits Officer. He would be responsible for bagging and labelling every exhibit handed to him by the pathologist.
Seamus Carter took a deep breath and began to speak. His words were recorded, both on the videotape and on his own Dictaphone.
‘Okay, if we’re all ready, let’s get started. Presented is the body of a male child, estimated age between nine and twelve years old. The body was found face down, and there are the usual signs of lividity present towards the top of the body. There’s also a high level of decomposition that compounds the discolouration. I would estimate the time of death to be well over two weeks ago, possibly nearer three.’
Leaning forward, he very carefully turned the body, with the help of his assistant. Examining the child’s back, he said, ‘There’s still a great deal of heavy bruising present along the entire length of the torso, from the shoulder blades down to the buttocks. Had the child been left on his back, this bruising wouldn’t still be visible.’
Looking closer, he said, ‘These marks appear to be numerous individual bruises, as opposed to being a single large one. They are definitely an indication of prolonged physical assault rather than a single crushing injury.’
Leaving the body face down, the pathologist then examined the neck, wrists and feet.
He said, ‘There are no obvious ligature marks anywhere on the body, so the child was never physically restrained. This is interesting, though.’
Carter leaned forward and looked closer at the back of the neck. ‘These bruises, directly on the back of the child’s neck, look like hand marks. They’re a good indication that the boy has been held down, with some force, by a large hand on the nape of his neck.’
Danny asked, ‘Is that significant?’
‘I’ll know better later in the examination, but I’ve seen cases where downward pressure in that area of the neck onto a soft surface can cause asphyxiation.’
‘Like suffocation?’
‘Exactly. It’s like the opposite scenario of placing a pillow over someone’s face. If you were to force someone face down onto a pillow, they would suffocate. Like I say, I’ll know for sure later in the examination.’
The pathologist then began to examine the area around the boy’s buttocks. ‘As I suspected, there’s a lot of evidence of sexual assault. When I examine him internally, I’ll know more. From first examination, I believe this child has been raped anally on several occasions. That could also explain the heavy bruising to the back. Let’s turn him back over, please, Stephanie.’
The young assistant stepped forward and, very carefully, they turned the dead child over.
The pathologist now closely examined the mouth of the child. ‘There’s evidence that the milk teeth have in the main fallen out, but there are still molars at the back that show evidence of amalgam fillings. Some of the front teeth have already been replaced by second teeth. This is all an indication that this child is aged between nine and twelve years of age.’
Danny spoke up again. ‘Will we be able to identify the boy using dental records?’
‘As you know, Danny, the arrangement of each person’s teeth is virtually unique. Like most of us, this child has already had cavities treated. There should be dental records available somewhere. I’ve an orthodontist friend, Linda Greenwich, who will assist me to make a comparison with this child’s teeth and those dental records. I’m hopeful that together, we’ll be able to establish this child’s identity that way.’
Now the pathologist began the grisly, but necessary, task of carrying out a full post-mortem. Samples were taken as he progressed through the examination of the torso and the skull.
Just over an hour later, the examination was complete.
Seamus Carter turned to Danny and said, ‘It’s as I originally suspected. The cause of death is asphyxiation by the method I described at the beginning of the examination. There’s evidence to show that the child has been suffocated, and because of the bruising on the back of the neck, I believe his face was forced down into something soft. A pillow or a mattress, maybe. I’m still of the opinion that drugs are involved as well. Hopefully, the toxicology on the samples we’ve taken throughout the examination will prove enlightening. Although there’s evidence of serious damage to the anus, caused by repeated sexual assault, I can’t find any viable semen for possible DNA testing. This is mainly due to the general level of putrefaction. Other than some internal damage where he’s been repeatedly raped, this boy shows all the appearance of having been a healthy child. All the major organs appeared to be, as you would expect, pristine.’
Danny said, ‘Why do you think drugs are involved?’
‘I have found what could be puncture wounds on the right thigh and the upper right arm. It’s difficult for me to state categorically that these have been caused by a needle. If you look closely, there are numerous puncture wounds all over the body, caused by scavenging animals and birds. That’s why the toxicology report will be important.’
Danny nodded.
Carter continued, ‘I’ve taken samples of insect larvae from inside the body cavities. When I’ve completed my studies of these samples, I should be able to provide you with a more accurate time of death. Do you have any questions for me, Danny?’
‘When will you be able to contact this orthodontist, to help you obtain an identification?’
‘I’ll be on the phone to her as soon as we’ve finished here. I should have something for you either this evening or first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘Could it be done tonight? It’s vital that we identify this child as soon as possible.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. It shouldn’t be a problem; she owes me a few favours.’
‘That’s great. When will you know the results of the toxicology tests?’
‘I’ll have those for you tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let you have them at the same time as I submit my report. Stephanie will have developed all the photographs she’s taken by then, and they’ll accompany my report.’
‘One final question. You’ve described how this boy was raped repeatedly. Is there any way of telling whether it was by a single offender numerous times, or by numerous offenders once?’
‘That’s a good question. Based purely on the different levels of bruising displayed, and the inordinate amount of damage caused internally, I would lean more towards numerous offenders.’
Danny nodded thoughtfully. ‘I was afraid you were going to say that. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow when I’ve received your report.’
‘No problem. I’ll work on it overnight, and hopefully we’ll have an identification sooner rather than later. Do you know, my friend, it doesn’t matter how long I’ve been doing this job, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to examining small children that have been defiled in this way. How could people do this to a defenceless, innocent child?’
‘I’ve got no idea. It takes a different kind of evil, that’s for sure.’
10
23 June 1986
Major Crime Investigation Unit, Mansfield
It was now early evening, and Danny sat alone in his office; his mind was still reeling from the post-mortem. There was something infinitely devastating about attending the post-mortem of a murdered child.
He reached down to the bottom left-hand drawer of his desk and took out an almost-full bottle of Bushmills Irish whiskey and a glass tumbler. Danny was no drinker, but sometimes it was the only answer to dull an unforgiving sense of pain. He unscrewed the cap from the bottle and poured a single measure into the tumbler glass.
He replaced the bottle and closed the drawer. Leaning back in his chair, he lifted
the glass to his mouth and swallowed the fiery liquid in one gulp. He put the glass on his desk and made a quiet commitment to himself to catch the bastards who had defiled the young boy so horrifically.
Once again, he opened the desk drawer and replaced the unwashed glass.
He stared at the blank page of his blue hardback casebook. After a few seconds, he picked up a pen and began writing strategies and possible lines of enquiry.
In big bold capital letters, the first word he scribbled down was ‘Identification’.
There was a loud knock on his office door. ‘Come in!’ he yelled.
The door opened, and DC Rachel Moore walked in. ‘Sorry to disturb you, boss, but I thought you’d want to hear this.’
‘What is it, Rachel?’
‘I’ve been running computer checks on outstanding missing persons who are both local and fit our criteria. I’ve come up with three names that look the most promising.’
‘Fire away,’ said Danny, reaching for his pen.
‘First, there’s a boy by the name of Stefan Batiskowski. He’s twelve years old and was reported missing five months ago from his home in Worksop. His parents are Polish. This boy has never been missing before. Secondly, Evan Jenkins, eleven years of age. He was reported missing on the third of June this year. He’s a persistent absconder from the Tall Trees Children’s Home at Bilsthorpe. The worrying thing about this one is that he’s normally found and returned to the home within a couple of days. The longest he’s ever been missing is four days. Finally, there’s a boy called Bryn Gower. He’s another twelve-year-old, who went missing from his aunt’s house in Mansfield. He was staying at that address following his parents’ extremely acrimonious divorce. There’s a strong belief, by the mother’s side of the family, that this lad has run away back to his father’s house in Wales. I’ve asked the police in Swansea to check down there, and he hasn’t turned up yet.’
A Cold Grave: A DCI Danny Flint Book Page 5
