Gone to Ground

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘I know you’ve already given a statement to our colleagues when they turned up earlier this morning, Geoff, but I wondered if I could ask you a few more questions?’

  Cornwell scratched his ear, then dropped his hands into his lap. ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘Can you tell me in your own words what happened this morning?’

  ‘I started my shift at seven o’clock as usual, I suppose it was about two hours later I was working where the excavator is parked now.’

  ‘Did you see anyone on the landfill before you got to that area?’

  ‘No. When a pile of waste gets to a certain size, we direct the public to dump their green waste on the other side of the site. That would have taken place a week ago. It stops it getting too high, so it doesn’t fall on someone and injure them.’

  ‘So, you alternate between the two areas?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Okay. What happened next?’

  ‘I thought it might have been a dog at first. You’d be surprised how many people don’t want to pay for pet burial services or can’t dig a hole for it at the bottom of the garden because they’re renting, so they dump it here.’ He shuddered, then swallowed. ‘Do you know what happened to him?’

  Kay made a slight gesture to Barnes. There was no sense in telling Cornwell that Harriet and her team had discovered more than one body.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘But we will. Did you go straight back to the site office?’

  ‘Not straightaway, no. I suppose I was in shock. I switched off the engine – I’m not sure how long I sat there for. In the end, I climbed out the cab to take a closer look. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. When I realised I was right, I ran to the site office and got Ian to phone the police.’

  He ran a shaking hand over his mouth. ‘I can’t believe it. Who would do such a thing?’

  Kay looked over the man’s shoulder to where Whitman sat and waved him over.

  ‘Geoff, thank you very much for speaking to us. I know you’ve had one hell of a shock, so I appreciate it. We may be in touch over the next few days with a few more questions, but that will do for now.’

  Cornwell nodded, then slapped his hands on his thighs and rose to his feet. ‘I suppose I’d better get back to work.’

  Whitman stepped forward. ‘Geoff, take the rest of the week off. Seriously, after the shock you’ve had today, it’s not a problem. And speak to your GP if you need to, okay?’

  The man blinked, then his shoulders relaxed. ‘Thanks, Niles. Appreciated.’

  ‘Do you need a lift home?’ said Kay.

  ‘No, that’s all right – got my wife’s car here. I’ll be okay.’

  She watched as he moved away from the table, his gaze upon the abandoned machinery, then turned and shielded her eyes from the sunlight that bounced off the windscreen of another excavator. She peered at the towering collection of vegetation and other green waste it ploughed through.

  ‘What happens to all of this, Mr Whitman?’

  ‘The excavator operators segregate out the smaller materials for recycling to start off with, then the bigger pieces are broken up and processed.’ Whitman pointed across the site. ‘The small stuff is put through those large wood chippers and sold back to the public and the local borough councils as bark chippings for ornamental landscaping.’

  ‘Wood chippers? Kay turned and caught Barnes raising an eyebrow at her.

  ‘When were those last operational?’ he said to Whitman.

  The man paled. ‘About four days ago. You don’t think—’

  He broke off and peered over to where the other excavator moved back and forth, shovelling green waste towards an increasing pile, close to one of the temporary buildings.

  ‘I need you to halt operations over there until our CSIs have processed what you’ve sorted so far,’ said Kay.

  Fortunately the site manager didn’t argue, pulled a radio from his belt, and relayed the message.

  A crackle of static preceded the machine’s engine being halted, and a moment later the operator climbed from the cab, raising his hand in their direction.

  Whitman turned to Kay. ‘Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘I don’t suppose you keep a record of who brings recycling here to be disposed?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, but we have a camera at the gates into the compound that photographs vehicle licence plates as they enter. Will that help?’

  ‘We’ll take it, thanks,’ said Kay. ‘We’re going to need a full list of names for people that work here, as well as any contractors you use from time to time.’

  A cloud passed across his features. ‘The people that work here are trustworthy, detective.’

  ‘I’m sure they are, but it’s routine for us to check every angle, not to mention one of your employees may have seen some suspicious activity.’ Her gaze returned to the CSIs as they worked methodically across the swollen ground before them, marking out their progress as each new find was uncovered. ‘We have to find who did this.’

  Chastened, the man shrugged his shoulders. ‘Okay. I’ll have one of the girls in the office email them to you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Kay, and handed him her business card before calling over to Parker. ‘One of my officers will accompany you back to the office so he can take a copy of your security camera footage as well.’

  Whitman turned away and trudged across the churned earth towards the row of temporary cabins on the outer fringes of the site, his mobile phone to his ear, while Parker hurried after him.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Barnes.

  ‘I think Harriet’s right. Whoever did this has had practice. How the hell has he stayed hidden, Ian?’

  ‘Luck,’ said Barnes. ‘Sometimes, that’s all it takes.’

  Kay wrinkled her nose at the stench of rotting vegetation as she ran her eyes over the piles of rubbish and tried to ignore the sinking sensation in her heart.

  ‘I hate to think how many more victims there are out there.’

  Sixteen

  Barnes removed his tie, folded it, then tossed it onto his desk before threading his way between the assembled officers.

  Kay moved to one side as he joined her, and he gave her a quick nod.

  ‘Thanks, guv. Right, everyone. Carys has confirmed we’ve got a list of personnel and contractor names from the Borough Council, but all of those check out. In the meantime, CCTV footage came through from the landfill site office three hours ago. PC Aaron Stewart and his colleagues from uniform have helped us go through it all, concentrating on drop-offs made in the seven days leading up to the discovery.’

  He paused while Gavin moved to the door and flicked the light switches to one side of it, dropping the incident room into a false twilight. The overhead projector whirred to life, and an image appeared on the plain wall beside the whiteboard. Barnes aimed the remote at it, and the image played through the sequence.

  ‘The quality is shoddy, and the camera to the rear of the building doesn’t work at all,’ he said. ‘However, we have got this.’

  He paused the recording as a pale-coloured pickup truck drew up to the gates.

  ‘Is that the same vehicle?’ said Carys, leaning forward on her chair.

  ‘We think so.’

  ‘It’s got licence plates,’ said Kay.

  Barnes nodded. ‘It has, and we’ve already run them through the national police computer. They were stolen off a Ford Mondeo parked at the Ashford retail outlet last month.’

  A collective groan filled the room.

  ‘What, so he puts on stolen plates to dump the body parts?’ said Gavin. ‘Can we get a photo of his face from this?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no. He’s obviously familiar with the place, because he goes out of his way to avoid his face being seen. He’s been here before.’

  ‘Do any of Whitman’s employees or contractors recognise the vehicle?’ said Kay as she perched on Debbie’s desk.

  ‘No – which makes me think it’s stol
en, too,’ said Barnes, ‘especially as we have it on David Carter’s security footage with no licence plates at all.’

  ‘Hell of a risk driving around with no plates on until he got to the landfill site,’ said Carys.

  ‘He probably kept to the back roads,’ said Gavin. ‘Plenty of places to stay out of the way until he could dump the body parts.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Kay. ‘This vehicle disappeared for two whole days between Carter’s cameras and these. So, where did he go?’

  ‘And where did he hide the body parts?’ said Barnes. He waved to Gavin to switch the lights back on and handed the briefing back to Kay as the beam from the overhead projector dimmed.

  She drew a vertical line on one side of the whiteboard, then turned back to the team.

  ‘All right. Whoever this individual is, he has the means to kill someone, and dismember body parts without being disturbed. For some reason, he decides to transport those parts to another location. Then, he dumps the remains in landfill. Let’s brainstorm this. What does he do for a living that means he has the tools and hiding place to commit murder and try to dispose of the bodies, and what the hell is he doing trying to burn them? Why not bury the parts where he killed them?’

  She gestured to the uniformed sergeant who had raised her hand. ‘Yes?’

  ‘He might have intended to bury them, guv, but we haven’t had any decent rain for over two weeks. The ground is rock solid around here at the moment.’

  ‘Good point. Anyone else?’

  ‘You said it when we were at the landfill site earlier,’ said Barnes. ‘He would have made a hell of a mess. Everyone underestimates how much blood is actually in the human body. So, he has to have somewhere he can use without being disturbed.’

  ‘And with good drainage,’ said Carys.

  ‘Lucas’s report confirmed no power tools were used,’ said Gavin as he leafed through his notes, ‘so our killer must be physically strong and have access to manual tools that could inflict these sorts of chop wounds.’

  Kay ran her gaze over the timeline she’d written on the whiteboard. ‘There’s no clear pattern, either. There’s nothing to indicate whether the person responsible for this has done it before or will do it again.’

  She recapped the pen and tossed it onto the desk next to her in frustration. ‘It’s like he’s gone out on a killing spree, and then stopped.’

  ‘You think he’s done this before?’ said Gavin.

  She pursed her lips. ‘Unfortunately, yes, I do. With the exception of the foot, it’s almost as if he’s had practice.’

  ‘Maybe he won’t kill again,’ said Debbie. ‘Maybe he’s done what he set out to do.’

  ‘Either way, it doesn’t help us,’ said Kay. ‘If he’s gone to ground, we still have to find him and bring him to justice for what he’s done. And, if he hasn’t finished, we have to stop him before he does it again.’

  She turned back to the whiteboard with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair.

  ‘And, we still have no idea why he’s doing this.’

  Seventeen

  Kay pushed away a stack of manila folders, took one look at the growing list of emails on her computer screen, and let out a groan.

  The last of the investigation team had left half an hour ago, and the incident room was silent save for an errant bluebottle that was head-butting the window above Debbie’s desk in a frantic attempt to escape.

  She checked her watch, surprised to discover it was nearly seven o’clock. She’d been so engrossed in her work, she hadn’t heard the roar of the vacuum cleaner. The cleaners were already at the far end of the corridor outside, almost finished with their work.

  She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands, closing her eyes for a moment.

  Four days in to a major enquiry, and they were frustratingly short of a breakthrough of any kind.

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor, followed by faint voices, and the soft click of the incident room door being opened reached her ears.

  Kay kept her head bowed, running through the scenarios she knew off by heart, and mentally preparing new tasks for her team when they returned in the morning. It was vital to keep their momentum going; they were tight-knit and hardworking, but soon the frustration would start to show.

  Having been responsible for clearing one cold case off the Division’s record, she didn’t intend to add another in its place.

  She sensed someone approaching and opened her eyes as a steaming mug of tea was plonked down on the desk beside her.

  ‘Thought you might want that,’ said Sharp, and pulled up a chair beside her. ‘What’re you still doing here?’

  She waved her hand at the pile of paperwork. ‘I have no suspect. No murder scene. No idea who the victims are.’

  He peered over his shoulder at the whiteboard at the far end of the room. ‘It looks like you’ve taken an exhaustive approach. Sometimes these things take longer that we’d like. You’ll get there.’

  Kay sighed, and reached out for the tea, but Sharp shook his head.

  ‘Hang on. You look like you could do with something stronger. Back in a minute.’

  The sound of a filing cabinet drawer being opened and then slammed shut preceded him reappearing, a bottle of single malt in his hand.

  Kay frowned. ‘I didn’t know you kept a bottle of that locked in your filing cabinet.’

  ‘Safest place. At least Barnes can’t get his hands on it.’

  He grinned, took their mugs over to the kitchenette in the corner, and rinsed them out before returning and pouring a single measure of the spirit into each.

  ‘Cheers.’

  Kay clinked her mug against his, took a sip and sank back into her chair.

  ‘Where’ve you been, anyway? Haven’t seen you for a few days.’

  ‘Headquarters.’

  ‘Problem?’

  ‘No, just politics. As usual.’ He craned his neck to see the whiteboard at the far end of the room. ‘Reckon your two bodies at the landfill site are linked to the foot?’

  ‘I hope so. I’d hate to think there are two of them out there doing this.’

  ‘Any idea who any of the remains belong to yet?’

  ‘No. Harriet’s got a forensic anthropologist on board for the landfill bodies – she reckons even with the fact the remains are burnt, they might be able to extract DNA and some other details that could help.’

  Sharp turned back to her. ‘I know you’re frustrated but give it time. Not all cases are solved in the first few days.’

  ‘I know that, guv, but it worries me – we’ve got nothing at all. Oh, a pale-coloured pickup with its licence plates missing in one photo, and stolen ones in another. That’s it.’

  ‘Can I give you some advice?’

  ‘Please. Anything.’

  Sharp drained his drink, then rose from his seat and patted her on the shoulder.

  ‘Go home, Kay. Spend the evening with Adam. Watch a movie. Clear your head. You’re not going to gain anything by sitting here letting your mind work in overdrive.’

  Kay pushed the front door open, the aroma of a spicy curry tickling her senses as she kicked off her shoes and hurried through to the kitchen.

  Adam sat at the central worktop, flicking through the local free newspaper. He raised his head as she appeared.

  ‘Hello. I thought I heard your car pull up outside.’

  She wandered around to where he sat and kissed him, before helping herself to a beer out of the refrigerator and grabbing another for him.

  Placing it next to his empty glass, she frowned.

  ‘Where’s Misha? I half expected her to be running around in here, knowing what you’re normally like.’

  He leaned back and eyed her warily. ‘She’s in the dog house.’

  ‘What has she done?’

  ‘There’s no more oregano in the garden.’

  ‘Oh, no – I thought you and Barnes built that pen for her so she couldn’t escape?’

  Adam s
hrugged and managed to look a little guilty. ‘I got home and she seemed bored cooped up in there, so I thought while I had a shower I’d let her have a run around. Won’t be doing that again.’

  Kay smiled. ‘Ah, well. We can buy some more when she’s gone.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind, but it’s a pain to grow.’

  ‘There’s nothing left of it at all?’

  ‘No – and I hope she has a bad case of indigestion, too.’

  ‘Is that why we’re having a curry tonight instead of pasta, then?’

  ‘Very funny. Go and get changed; I’ll be dishing up in a minute.’

  Eighteen

  The next morning, Kay had started to brief her team when the phone on Gavin’s desk rang and he excused himself to take the call.

  ‘So,’ said Kay, ‘Harriet confirmed late yesterday that there are remains for two victims within the area that Geoff Cornwell was working on yesterday. No other body parts have been found there. From today, they’ll extend their search across the older parts of the landfill site, working with the dog unit to ascertain whether more victims have yet to be discovered.’

  ‘Guv?’

  She glanced over her shoulder from the whiteboard to see Gavin hovering at the edge of the group.

  ‘What is it?’

  He squeezed between two colleagues who sat at the front of the briefing and handed her a slip of paper.

  ‘That was a podiatrist over at Tunbridge Wells – says a patient of his missed an appointment a week ago. He thought it was unusual at the time, because the man had had recent surgery and needed to have a dressing changed. He didn’t have time to phone him to chase him up last week and has only returned from a conference in Oxford this morning when he heard the news about the find at the weekend.’

  A murmur of excitement filled the room as Kay ran her eyes down the message.

  ‘Have you made an appointment to interview him?’ she said.

  ‘We’re due to meet with him in an hour.’

  ‘Good work.’

  Gavin nodded, then made his way back towards Carys’s desk, leaning against the wall behind her while Kay continued the briefing.