‘I never thought of that. Why ... ?’ He trailed off. ‘Do you know who they are?’
‘We suspect they may be a wealthy couple who went missing a few days ago. Keep that under your hat.’ He turned to Marino and said, ‘Can you spare Forster to go home with Mr Lawrence?’
Marino nodded. He said to Forster, ‘Stay with him, and if any media bods turn up, strictly no comment—and keep him out of sight. If things get out of hand call for reinforcements. You’d better drive—he still looks pretty shaky. Call me when you get there. I’ll organise relief for you later. Right, off you go.’
Jacobsen had a brief word with Jim, saw him settled into the car then pulled out his phone. ‘Baker, we’re heading for the scene now. Forster will be driving through in a few seconds. You wait there for the circus to arrive and call me as soon as they pull in.’
He turned to the others. ‘Marino, we could do with your input on this.’
‘If you don’t mind me mentioning it, masks would be a good idea,’ Marino suggested.
‘If it’s as bad as you said we’d better be ready to suit up. Williams, I want every second of this recorded. Get the local grid on your screen. Holly and Marino, grab the kit and the protective suits.
‘Everybody keep to the far right of the track. I don’t want any traces disturbed. Keep your eyes peeled, look where you’re going. If you see anything that looks suss, stop and mark it—don’t pick anything up at this stage. Williams will record it as well.’
Sergeant Marino broke the silence, ‘When I was talking to the old bloke he said he and his late wife used to come to this spot sometimes. He said the gates were never closed and they could drive down to a clearing with an old picnic table and benches at the end of the track by the creek. That’s not far from the tree where …’ He gulped but continued, ‘Maybe you can get into your gear there before we go to the site.’
‘Good thinking, sergeant. Anybody see anything yet?’ demanded Jacobsen.
‘No tyre marks, sir,’ said Holly Vaughan. ‘Looks like they used hover mode along this section. Bit of overkill—branches dragged along too. See, fairly fresh green leaves and little broken twigs all along the track. Usually only get dead leaves and stuff. Reckon they’ve been extra careful. The only footprints are the old bloke’s, the dog’s and …’
‘Yeah, mine and Forster’s,’ said Marino. ‘We kept to the verge as much as possible. It’s a real bad scene. My lad threw up but had enough sense to puke on the other side … about there, I think.’ He pointed to a patch of weeds on the side of the track. ‘Coming up to the tree any second … yeah, I can smell it now.’
Jacobsen, who was leading, held up a hand. He pointed and asked Marino, ‘That the tree? That whopping great fig there?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. Can’t see anything from this side, have to go around it. I’m buggered if I know how they got those bodies up there.’
‘I can smell something alright. We’ll go to the end, see if there’s anything more first,’ said the DI.
There was another slight curve in the track there and as they rounded it they saw a rustic table and the remains of a couple of benches, standing forlornly among the leaf litter. A few steps away was the small creek, burbling its way between mossy rocks. Apart from natural bush debris it looked clean, no paper, empty cans or bottles to indicate recent visits from picnickers.
‘No one’s had a picnic here for a while, I’d say.’
‘I must admit I didn’t know it was here and I’m pretty familiar with this area,’ said Marino.
‘Brush it down then toss our gear on that table. I want you all in full suits … the works.’ There were groans all round. ‘And yes, I know how bloody hot it is and you can put up with it till the cooling system kicks in.’
Holly Vaughan looked surprised. ‘Cooling system! Did we get the new suits, sir? Oh, well who’s complaining,’ she said happily. She unfolded a bright fluorescent-yellow protective suit with full hood, mask and built-in comm unit. Gloves were separate, very strong but thin enough to allow a realistic feel to whatever they handled.
‘Spare suit there, Marino. Grab what you need out of the bag.’ He sniffed gently. ‘We’re getting a whiff even this far away.’
‘Believe me, you’ll need the strongest filters for this one. It’s the strangest death scene I’ve ever come across. I nearly threw up myself.’
‘Did you hear what Sergeant Marino said? It’s going to be grim. Try not to throw up in the suits, please.’
They made their way to the giant fig tree. No one said a word as they stood and gazed at the grim sight of the bodies hanging there. Jacobsen was the first to speak. He turned to Marino and said, ‘You were right … it’s bad, very bad. Whoever did this is seriously disturbed.’ He turned and looked closely at each of the others then said, ‘Anyone need to leave? If so, do it now.’
A mute shake of the heads was all the response. ‘Williams, can you get video of this from all angles—get around the other side without tripping over those roots.’
‘They’re so high up I can’t get much detail, sir. Maybe I could climb up the tree, there’s a couple of low branches on the other side.’
‘Yes, and that’s possibly where our murderers climbed so skip that for now. Anyone care to comment?’
‘Sir, something odd,’ said DS Vaughan. ‘The woman, see the woman’s hands. Her fingers look sort of black and their hands are fastened somehow around each other, as if they’re hugging. She’s naked but still wearing rings, watch, gold bracelet … and I think I recognise that ring on her right hand.’
Jacobsen picked his way around the other side and squinted up, ‘He’s still wearing a watch, an antique, by my guess, gold wedding ring and a heavy gold dress ring. I think you’re right, Holly. And their hands look black … can’t quite make it out. Their feet are black too.’
‘Looks like that rope was slung over the tree, then they’d have tied them together … see the ropes, or is it some sort of tape? I can’t make it out from here. You can see the deep scoring on the branch … they must have brought the rope around the tree beside it and hauled them up, then did a few rounds on that other tree and tied it off. A lot of strength needed.’ He continued.
‘Maybe they tied the rope to their vehicle and used it to hoist them up,’ suggested Marino. ‘That’d be the easiest way to get them up.’
‘We’ll leave that to the forensic team.’ Jacobsen said. ‘Let’s go back. Those bloody flies are driving me nuts and there’s nothing more we can do here for now.’
Interlude
He watches the vid on his giant wallscreen, not for the first time, never tiring of the scenes of torture, the savage violation of their bodies and the almost orgasmic pleasure it gave him to leave the treacherous pair dangling. And almost as good was the control he had over his accomplice, now as deeply committed to the cause as he.
‘Grab that rope. No, the thin one. Toss it over. Now give me a hand to lift them.’
‘How do we do this?’
‘We tie them together first then hoist them up there.’ He points to the sturdy branch of a fig tree.
‘Up there. How the hell…?’
‘Shut the fuck up, for God sake, I can’t think with you blathering on. I’ll roll them … get her arms around him then tie them as tight as possible. Now do the same with his.’
‘This rope’s too long.’
‘Use a bloody knife to cut it, idiot … in the toolbox.’
‘What about their jewellery? It must be worth millions.’
‘We don’t need it; we don’t touch it. It’s dangerous. Those watches are all numbered and custom-made. That ring … the stone’s famous.’
‘Can’t we at least take …?’
‘No, no, and no.’
‘We don’t have to sell them. What about the gold ring?’
‘I said no, and I mean no. You’ll be able to buy as many bits of gaudy glitter as you want once this is over. Let me check those ropes. Good ... that’s tigh
t enough. Here, take the rest of that rope. Now hold their legs together while I tie the ankles. … No, no, can’t you do anything right?.’
‘Is this okay?’
‘Good enough. Now give me that plastic bag.’
‘What are you going to do with their tongues?’
He switches it off at that point, best to savour the rest later. It is all the incentive he needs to keep going, to fulfil his destiny, to keep the promises he made.
Chapter 7
They made their way back to the small clearing, stripped off the suits and packed them away. Vaughan grabbed a container and took a few steps down to the little creek to scoop up some water. They all dipped their hands in turn and splashed some on their faces.
‘Now, let’s see what we’ve got. One of you like to tell me who you think they are?’ said Jacobsen. ‘Just to confirm my gut feeling.’
‘A Mis Pers bulletin came through yesterday about a missing couple, a rich guy called Gerald Richardson and wife, Roberta. They own day-spas,’ said Marino. ‘Their housekeeper called in on Saturday when the couple didn’t come home after some charity do last Friday night. They told her to ring back if they hadn’t turned up by Monday. So she did.’
Holly Vaughan cut in. ‘And that massive diamond she’s still wearing is called the Ice Queen. It was featured in Circe magazine a few weeks ago. Apparently it’s got a history.’
‘Is this relevant, Holly?’ asked Jacobsen, frowning.
‘It may confirm their ID, sir. I read that they rarely socialise, so that charity event must have been special to lure them out. Can we find out if it was genuine?’
‘Good thinking. We’ll check that later.’
‘You know, something rings a bell here,’ said Holly Vaughan. ‘Another strange murder. Trees, forest … mutilations, maybe torture. Of course, d’you remember that bloke they found up in, where was it … North Queensland … tied to a tree?’
Jacobsen nodded. ‘Yes, couple of weeks ago up in the Daintree, the rain forest, but how could they be connected? They’re a weird mob up there—could’ve been some strange bloody ritual.’
‘Well, it was strange, and this one’s strange too. Torture is pretty unusual. That new liaison team they call the Flying Squad went up—Cairns coppers called them in but last I heard they hadn’t come up with anything yet.’
Jacobsen said, ‘I’ve got a feeling we’ll be calling them in on this one too.’
A shrill beep cut the air and ended the speculation. Kerry Jacobsen glanced at the screen then spoke. ‘SOCOs are here … Okay, Baker. tell them we’ll be about four or five minutes. Oh, and ask them to get the gates open.’
Marino said, thoughtfully, ‘They weren’t robbed. That jewellery must be worth millions.’
As they packed up their gear Jacobsen said, ‘It’d be damn near impossible to pawn or sell that stuff—it’s unique. But it tells us that this murder was personal, very personal. When we get back to Sydney we’re going to have a close look at the Richardsons. It’ll be there, buried somewhere in their past. I might need the cyber geeks in CECI to do a bit of digging for that.
‘I’ll brief the SOCOs, then we can pack up and get back to Sydney. We’d better get a team into the Richardsons’ house as soon as possible.
‘Holly, I want you to go to Jim Lawrence’s house in the morning and go over his statement with him. Sergeant Marino, can you organise someone from Penrith to relieve your chap this evening, please? I don’t want Jim Lawrence on his own.’
‘Forster can stay overnight with him.’ said Marino.
‘I want him kept away from the bloody press. If they’re not already there, it won’t be long. There’s a leak somewhere,’ he said darkly. ‘And the bastard will be leaking a lot more when I catch up with him.’
They made their way back along the track still keeping to the sides. The gates had now been dragged open. Jim’s car had gone and the area was filled with the big forensics ATV, and an unmarked body wagon. The Medical Examiner, Dr Rainbird, emerged from his sleek Honda Sun-CAT3000 GTX.
‘Right. I want each of you to report, briefly, on your impressions. Inspector Isles, could you call your SOCOs over here and we’ll bring you up to date on what’s happened so far. Dr Rainbird, would you care to join us.’
Jacobsen summarised and mentioned the tentative identity of the bodies.
Dr Rainbird said, ‘My wife mentioned that article in Circe about the Ice Queen diamond. It’s South African I think, has a bad reputation. Every owner—there’ve been three or four—has come to a nasty end, accident, murder, suicide in one case. Her husband bought it for her birthday last April. Looks like the bad luck has struck again.’
‘You know, reading between the lines there was a hint about the Richardsons not being quite, you know, kosher? It was one of their pieces, by what’s her name, Verity something,’ said Holly.
‘Still needs to be confirmed as the Richardsons,’ said Isles. ‘And from what you’ve said, we won’t be able to do that till we’ve got the bodies down.’ He frowned. ‘That could be a problem.’
‘Well,’ said Marino, ‘Maybe you could take the ATV down there—use the winch. If you tie onto the rope, then cut the one holding the bodies you can winch them down slowly.’
‘Right, that could work.’
They moved aside and continued discussing the logistics of getting the bodies down. The doctor checked his watch and said, ‘It’ll be too late to get started on the PM’s by the time we get the bodies back to the morgue. I’ll do them first thing in the morning but until I’ve got them on the slab I won’t know how long it’ll be. Preliminary findings about ten, I’d say. Who’s attending?’ he asked.
Jacobsen nodded an affirmative. He joined the rest of the team standing by the gates.
‘Thanks for all your help, Marino. Good work, you and Forster. Now, I want an electronic barrier set up on this track. Word gets around and we don’t want ghouls up here rubber-necking and souveniring. Oh, this’ll be on our budget, by the way, not yours,’ said Jacobsen.
Marino grinned at him. ‘Boss’ll be pleased about that. Sure, I’ll get on to my station right away and organise it. What about a night bird too?’ he asked, referring to a night-vision skycam.
‘Yeah, but I’ll arrange that. I’ll give you a bell tomorrow, let you know how things are progressing. I’ll send Vaughan to Mr Lawrence’s house in the morning. I want her to go through the old fellow’s statement once he’s calmed down, had a night’s sleep. She has a sympathetic touch with witnesses and if there’s anything more to get she’ll get it, let him ramble on, reminisce. He knows the area, might have noticed something we wouldn’t pick up on. You okay with that, Holly?’
‘Yes, sir. No worries.’
‘I’ve requested a search warrant for the Richardsons’ house. I’ll get a lift back later with one of these people.’
They shook hands. Before Marino got back on the road he opened the comm screen, contacted Forster at Jim Lawrence’s and brought him up to date.
‘I’ll call in and take you home then you can grab what you need for an overnight and come back in your own transport. Still got that bloody airbike?’
On the screen Forster nodded.
‘The old bloke knows you now. It might help both of you to talk about it together. Now, lad, you don’t say dick about this to your girlfriend, mum and dad, or your bloody cat, dog or budgerigar for that matter.’
Forster grinned. ‘Don’t have any of those around. Sarge, did you mind that other mob taking over the case?’
‘No, I don’t mind at all. Very, very nasty.’
Forster said, ‘Williams contacted me and reckoned DI Jacobsen’s got the hots for the death doc’s car. Bet he’ll be getting a lift back in it.’
‘Hots! Death doc! Where the hell do you pick up these expressions.’ He paused. ‘But yeah, it was a pretty cool car.’
After a few more words with Forster, he got through to the station and set things in motion for an eblock. In the back of
his mind he thought, Those poor bloody Richardsons … wonder what they did to deserve that. He hit the motorway grid and headed to Jim Lawrence’s house, trying not to dwell on the horrific scenes he had witnessed.
DI Kerry Jacobsen steeled himself for another sight of the bodies as he led the others down the track to the old fig tree where the late Richardsons swayed gently in the breeze.
Interlude
London – January 2067
The ancient heart of London was suffering a long, slow and painful decline. The Thames had flooded again, now an almost daily occurrence, and each high tide seemed fuller than the previous one. An evil grey smog coiled itself permanently around the old stone buildings, and the surviving tower blocks were coated with an ever-present film of grimy soot, most of them showing signs of damage, broken glass and missing panels. A filthy flotsam of random junk littered the streets, and bodies or parts of them, well chewed by rats and other scavenging animals, still washed up occasionally.
After the terrorist attacks destroyed the Thames Barrier and the abandoned, half-finished barrier across the Thames Estuary from Sheerness to Southend, London was left vulnerable to the increasingly higher tides and rising sea levels, as were the low lying parts of Europe, especially the Netherlands, now almost completely under water.
In the Pacific, the well-named Ring of Fire had triggered massive earthquakes and devastated many island groups, some of which had disappeared beneath the waves. Millions had died, thousands tried to get to overburdened neighbouring countries only to be turned away, at gunpoint or worse, many to perish at sea in overcrowded boats.
In London, thirty-one years before, a massive storm surge coinciding with a record monster high tide had flooded out the dregs of the old oil storage depots down-river and swept the potentially deadly remnants up the Thames to the heart of London and beyond. The rainbow oil slick travelled fast. On the first of September, a fire started by a stray spark ignited the slick, a floating inferno which surged inexorably up the river to surpass the destruction of the Great Fire of London of 1666, happening almost exactly 400 years later.
STRANGE BODIES (a gripping crime thriller) Page 3
