Scarlett wondered where this was going. Had Tarn done something stupid? Cautiously she said, ‘I believe they’ve been going through a bad patch recently.’
‘And you’ve not been in contact with him since you finished work?’
‘No boss, no. Has something happened?’
There was a moment’s silence before Diane Harris said, ‘Tarn’s under arrest, Scarlett.’
‘Under arrest?’
‘I want you to join me at his house.’
‘You mean at Brentford?’
‘Yes, I’ll fill you in when you get here.’
***
Scarlett had to brake sharply as she turned into the street where her partner lived. Twenty yards away a patrol car was in the middle of the road, sideways on, its top lights flashing, washing the surroundings in weak tones of blue. Behind it, crime scene tape was drawn across the street, sealing it off. More police vehicles and an ambulance were lined up either side. What the fuck? This was serious. She coasted towards the pavement edge, killed the engine and pulled her bike onto its stand. Taking off her helmet, she placed it on the seat, unclipped the back box, lifted out her forensic suit and draped it over her arm as she made her way to police car blocking the road. As she got close, the driver’s door opened and a female PC climbed out.
Scarlett unzipped her leather suit to pull out the lanyard holding her warrant card and flashed it. ‘DS Macey,’ she announced. ‘I’m looking for DCI Harris.’
The young officer quickly eyed her identification. ‘She’s in the detective’s house. CSI have just got here.’
Not wishing to appear as if she didn’t know what was happening, and too scared to ask the obvious – is it a murder – Scarlett headed for the first cordon, ducked beneath the tape, stepped into her all-in-one forensic suit and hurried to Tarn’s house, a three-bedroom, red-brick semi on a corner plot. She had been here many times. Tonight, arc lights on tripods slashed through the darkness, lighting up its frontage. Two white suited members of the Forensic team were erecting a tent around the front door as she approached the gate. She was about to step onto the drive when a voice to her right stopped her in her tracks.
‘Scarlett.’
She recognised DCI Diane Harris’s voice, though she didn’t recognise her in the Tyvek suit, with its hood up and face mask on.
Scarlett bundled up her hair. ‘Hello boss,’ she said coaxing her hair into the hood of her suit. ‘Is this as bad as I think it is?’
The DCI pulled down her face mask. ‘Tarn’s wife’s dead. We arrested him a couple of hours ago near his parents’ home.’
Scarlett had expected to hear this, or something similar but the words still stunned her when they came. She felt a sudden stabbing to her chest and her stomach flipped. For a moment she stood there, unable to move. Fuck me, he’s killed her!
‘I’m sorry to call you out, Scarlett. I know you and Tarn are close, so you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but I need to know what’s being going on between them.’
The DCI’s voice brought her thoughts back to the present. Scarlett nodded slowly. ‘No, I understand boss. I’m okay with this.’
‘Okay, good. C’mon then I’ll show you what we’ve got.’ She pulled her face mask back on and with muffled voice added, ‘Prepare yourself, it’s not pretty in there.’
As they zipped open the forensic tent’s entrance the first thing that hit Scarlett was the metallic aroma which assaulted her even before she stepped inside the house. It should have prepared her for the sight ahead but the carnage in the hallway stopped her in her tracks. For a moment she stood there, stunned. There was so much to take in. Blood and blood-spatter was everywhere. Floor, walls, even the ceiling. The wooden floor, especially, was swimming in it. Some was starting to congeal, but the majority was still fluid, crimson in colour and judging by the track marks it looked as though Trish had thrashed around before she had died. She lay at the end of the hallway, her body half inside the kitchen.
As if following her thoughts DCI Harris said, ‘It looks as though she was initially stabbed by her attacker the moment she opened the front door and tried to escape but didn’t get very far. There’s not a part of her body that hasn’t been stabbed. This was frenzied.’ She held Scarlett back on the threshold ‘I don’t want you to go any further, forensics have not even started here yet. I just wanted you to see what’s happened here. Now we need to talk.’
Thirty-seven
DCI Harris took morning briefing. She stood in front of the murder board, scanning the room, nodding occasionally as she engaged glances with members of her team. She looked business-like, her flaxen hair parted slightly off centre, resting on her shoulders, framing a serious looking face. She wore a silk blouse – the whiteness of which showed off a deep tan from her recent holiday – beneath a fitted light grey pinafore dress and low heel shoes. Her glowing complexion made her look younger than her 40 years. Stirring into action, she stuck up an A4 photograph of Trish Scarr, sitting at a table in a restaurant. She looked elegant, fair hair piled up and a string of pearls around her neck and she was holding up a glass of wine in salutary fashion and smiling broadly. Happier times. The photo was in stark contrast to the three crime scene images pinned up of her lying crumpled in congealed blood.
DCI Harris called the room to order, ‘Okay everyone, heads up. At just after 7.30 p.m. last night, twenty-nine-year-old Trish Scarr’s body was discovered in the hallway of her home by her immediate neighbour. She had been repeatedly stabbed. As we all know, Trish is the wife of Tarn.’
Some of the team exchanged sombre looks.
Diane Harris indicated the murder scene images. ‘A post-mortem carried out in the early hours reveals she had been stabbed and slashed eighty-seven times by a single bladed knife approximately six inches in length. It more than probably is a kitchen knife. There is not a part of her body that has not been attacked. The majority of the stab wounds are to her upper chest, face and head, but she also has wounds to the tops of her legs and defence wounds to her hands and arms. The wound that killed her was to her throat but the pathologist told me that many of the wounds inflicted to her chest would have eventually killed her because of their severity.’ Diane paused. ‘This was a really vicious and frenzied attack. From the trail of blood and spatter on the walls it would appear the attack started close to the front door, carried on along the hallway and ended by the door leading into the kitchen where she finally collapsed. It would have gone on for several minutes.’
Diane spent a moment studying her team. Some looked shocked, and she guessed it wasn’t only because of the brutality of it all, but because this was very close to home. ‘As I said earlier, Trish was found like this by her immediate neighbour, Grace Appleby, at around 7.30. Dale and Heather, Trish and Tarn’s two children, had been playing with Grace’s two children, next door, and the arrangement was that Trish would collect them at 7 p.m., but Grace had heard an argument through the walls of her house at about 6.30, and saw Tarn storming away from the house about quarter-to-seven and driving away in his car. She knows that Trish and Tarn have recently split up, because Trish had told her, and so she decided to give her some time before she let the children go back. When Trish didn’t come around she went next to door to check on her and found her as you see in the photos. She immediately called emergency services.’
Diane looked to the room again, seeing a mixture of emotions on faces. Scarlett’s looked glum. From talking to her the previous night, she knew Scarlett was the only member of the squad aware of Tarn’s and Trish’s domestic upheaval. The news she had just delivered would have come as a surprise and a shock. ‘I’m guessing you all know by now that Tarn has been arrested. At eight-thirty last night, following Grace Appleby’s information, a call was put out for him to be detained and he was found sitting in his car a few doors down from his parents’ home, where he has been staying for the past few days. This is where I came into it.’ She continued, ‘Tarn was taken to Western Homicide Co
mmand and interviewed under caution by Detectives from there. His clothing and vehicle have been seized and he is currently on bail and suspended.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want anyone reading anything into this now. As you all know this is standard procedure, it matters not that he is one of our own.’
‘Is there any evidence to suggest it is Tarn?’ It was George Martin posing the question. His voice was low, as if almost too afraid to ask.
Diane shook her head. ‘We don’t have anything just yet. Far too early. The forensic team have recovered hair, fibre and prints from the hallway and they have found scrapings of flesh underneath Trish’s fingernails where she’s fought for her life. All that has been bagged and tagged. We should have a result in the next forty-eight hours. For now, we have Grace Appleby’s statement about the argument she heard, and her sighting of Tarn leaving the house and driving away three-quarters of an hour before she found Trish’s body. Some house-to-house was done last night, but that didn’t add anything. We’ll be following up that aspect today.’
‘What about the weapon. A kitchen knife you say. Was it left at the scene?’ Ella Bloom asking this one.
Diane again shook her head, ‘We haven’t yet found any knife that matches the one that inflicted Trish’s injuries. Forensics have been working in the house throughout the night and a fresh team will be taking over this morning. Search officers will begin a search of the gardens and street later today. With regards forensics, you don’t need me to tell you how difficult this is going to be. This is also Tarn’s house, so traces of him will be everywhere, and he was seen there, and has admitted being there, less than one hour before her body was found.’ She added, ‘Once again I don’t want you reading anything into that comment. Yes, Tarn is a suspect, but it’s still too early in our investigation to suggest that he is our only suspect.’
Scarlett said, ‘Has Tarn said anything?’
‘I wasn’t party to the interview but detectives who spoke with him tell me he was open with them, and the officer who initially arrested him has said he appeared genuinely shocked when told the reason for his arrest and his clothing shows no sign of having blood on it. He’s told them he went to his house with the intention of sorting things out with Trish, but it deteriorated into a full-blown argument, during which he punched the wall in the kitchen out of frustration. Then he left. He has been examined and the knuckles of his right hand are swollen, and there is damage to the wall by the door between the kitchen and the hallway, which backs up that story. He’s said that after leaving his home he drove to the Brewery Tap pub in Brentford, where he had two beers and then drove to his parent’s home where he was detained. I have listed actions for visits to the Brewery Tap, and for CCTV and ANPR checks to be made along the route Tarn said he took.’
‘What about the head at Trish’s school – the man Tarn believes was having an affair with Trish?’ asked Scarlett.
‘Good point Scarlett. Just to give you the heads up on this – no pun intended – a week ago, Tarn told Scarlett he suspected Trish was having an affair with the head at the school where she works as a teacher. He has no idea how long it’s been going on, but he has suspected for a number of weeks and questioned her about it on a number of occasions. It is what has caused them to split up. Following his arrest, he told the interview team that during their row last night she confessed she had been seeing him, and it was at this stage he says he punched the wall and left. As I say we have the physical evidence to back this story up. He has also told the detectives a friend of his saw the pair of then together in a pub.’ Pausing she said, ‘To answer your question Scarlett, there will be actions to speak with Tarn’s friend, regarding the sighting of Trish and the head together and there will be enquiries actioned to visit Trish’s school. Questioning the head will be one of those actions.’
Scarlett acknowledged with a nod.
‘Finally, I have managed to persuade the command team to leave me in charge of this investigation, even though Tarn is a member of my squad. The approach I will taking will be the same as for any other investigation and that’s what I expect you all to do too. The fact that one of our own is a suspect does not alter anything we do. We look for evidence. We prove it’s him, we prove it’s not him, simple as. We work relentlessly on this because that’s what we are trained to do. The other thing I need to point out is that this investigation stays in this room. Speaking to Tarn is strictly off limits. Not because I don’t want anybody to talk with him, but because we have to. He will understand. If he were in your shoes he would do the same. I know this is uncomfortable for everyone, but we must act professionally and be beyond reproach.’ She scanned the room, ‘Yes?’
She received a few nods. ‘If anyone is unhappy with that or feels they can’t work on this I fully understand and will give you other duties until it is finished. Is everyone okay with that?’ She scanned the team. Many of the faces were set tight but the look they returned told her they were on board. Clapping her hands, she said, ‘Right, everyone to business then. DI Taylor-Butler will allocate you your tasks.’
There was a scraping back of chairs as people started to rise, ready to start the day.
Thirty-eight
Scarlett had just booted up her computer when a hand on her shoulder made her look up. Diane Harris was standing over her.
She said, ‘Are you busy Scarlett?’
‘Just making sure I’ve no urgent e-mails and then I’m making a start, boss.’
‘Can I have a word?’
Scarlett pulled away from her keyboard.
‘In private please,’ Diane added, turning to the door.
Scarlett scooted back her chair, searched for shoes beneath her desk, slipped them on and followed the DCI to her room. By the time she’d caught up, Diane Harris was making herself comfortable behind her desk. She indicated to Scarlett to pull up a chair. The DCI steepled her fingers, a sign Scarlett recognised only too well – this was going to be a talking to.
‘The DI tells me you and he have had a few issues while I’ve been away.’
‘Issues?’
‘James Green?’
Scarlett huffed. ‘I wouldn’t say there were issues, boss. You could say we’ve had a difference of opinion over what Green’s been up to, and what he’s done since he was released, and I expressed my thoughts on how I felt we should be dealing with him.’
‘Nevertheless, he’s felt it necessary to bring it to my attention.’
He would do, the arsehole.
‘He tells me Green’s initiated a formal complaint against you.’
Scarlett nodded, ‘Has he told you the circumstances?’ She outlined the sighting at the Winstanley Estate, him waving to her at the supermarket, and finally the confrontation she’d had with him at Ella’s engagement do at the So Bar, which led to his complaint. ‘He set me up boss. I’m convinced Green has been stalking me since his release and I wanted him warning for harassment. That is where DI Taylor-Butler and I have a difference of opinion.’ She studied Diane’s face a moment before adding, ‘I’ll be perfectly honest with you, boss, I don’t scare easily, you know that, but that night at the So Bar – the look he gave me – that really scared me. I think he’s a very dangerous guy.’
The DCI lowered her hands. ‘That may be the case Scarlett, and it’s something I’m duly noting, but the DI is right in what he says. You can’t prove it was him at the Winstanley Estate, and the fact that he waved to you at the supermarket, and you can’t disprove what he said about his reason for being at the So Bar – it is a plausible response – does not amount to harassment. And given that he’s made a formal complaint against you, which is currently being investigated, I have to tell you to to back off him, unless he does something else that gives us course to pursue.’ She met Scarlett’s gaze. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
Scarlett nodded.
‘I’m not taking anyone’s side Scarlett, I’m seeing it as it is. The evidence for harassment is not there and you know that, so for no
w I’m reinforcing what Hayden has already said to you about backing off.’ She pushed herself upright in her chair. ‘Also, you’ve got enough on with this investigation.’ She held Scarlett’s gaze. ‘I know how close you and Tarn are, and I just want to reinforce what I said back there at briefing – I don’t want you to make contact with him, under any circumstances. If he needs to be seen over anything it will be done by me, do I have your promise on that?’
Scarlett answered with a nod.
‘Good. You’re a good DS, Scarlett, don’t spoil things.’
Scarlett pushed herself up from her seat.
‘Oh and one final thing, I’ve assigned you another partner for now. A DC from Fulham is joining us.’ The DCI glanced down at a piece of paper on her desk before smiling. ‘Lucy Summers. I’ve heard good things about her. She’s been acting DS for the past six months – she’s got a bright future I’m told. Just like you. I’m sure you’ll get on great.’ After a pause she said, ‘I want you to go back to Tarn’s house today and oversee the searches and coordinate the house-to-house. I’ll arrange for the new DC to meet you there.’
Scarlett almost let out a frustrated heavy sigh, but caught herself in time, forcing a half-hearted smile before she left.
Thirty-nine
Scarlett was glad to be out of the office. For the past hour, she’d had to suffer DI Taylor-Butler flitting around her, wearing a self-satisfied grin, and it had really pissed her off. And even though she was heading over to the place where a friend of hers had been murdered, it felt like a relief.
The only space she could find to park was a good fifty yards from the outer cordon. The police car that had been blocking the road last night was gone and an officer in high-vis now took its place. She climbed out of the car, pulling on her quilted jacket – the sun was out but there was a sharp chill – and looked up and down the street. There were a few people out but not as many as she anticipated. She'd expected to see some reporters around but there didn’t appear to be any, unless they were in nearby houses, door-stepping residents for the juicy angle: After all it was everything you would want in a murder story – the victim covered in blood, their throat cut, and a storyline wrapped in sexual intrigue with a cop as the main suspect. For a moment she stared at the scene, absorbed in silence. It just didn’t make sense. She knew Tarn. This was way too brutal. In that instant, her heart fluttered and her stomach turned. She’d had a hollow feeling all the way here thinking about her partner and what had happened to Trish; she knew what it looked like but she refused to believe that Tarn would harm Trish. Any mention of his wife and kids had always been made with the fondest of words. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts and re-focused. There was lots of activity around the front of Tarn’s home; forensic officers had turned their attention to the garden and Task Force officers had started work on the drains, searching for the murder weapon. George and Ella were just going into a house; she knew that they had been assigned door-to-door enquiries.
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