Collide-O-Scope (Norfolk Coast Investigation Stories Book 1)

by Andrea Bramhall

  The Queen Elizabeth Hospital at Kings Lynn was a sprawling mass of two-storey buildings hastily erected in the late 1970s, and first opened its doors in 1980. Prefabricated walls, with pasty yellow panels, loomed over her as she walked through the main doors and navigated her way down long corridors towards the mortuary. As always, the very thought of where she was going did more to make her skin crawl than the actual act she was preparing herself to witness. The fact that she knew—well, suspected—who she would see on the slab now, made it more important that she find out what happened. She wanted to give Gina that peace of mind.

  She buzzed the intercom to gain access to the mortuary and took what would be her last deep breath for a while before she pushed open the door.

  “Detective, right on time. No Timmons?” Dr. Anderson stood over the steel table, the body laid out, naked and ready for the post-mortem.

  “No. He’s been called to another crime scene.”

  “The dead girls in Lynn?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Like busses.”

  Kate frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Murders. Haven’t had one round here for bloody ages. Now we get four in a day.” She picked up her scalpel and set it poised in her hand. “Like busses.” Dr. Anderson must have decided to forego any further pleasantries, as she set to work with her blade. She was efficient, methodical, practiced. Each stroke of her hand was mesmerising in its clinically horrific dissection, every cut reducing Connie from human being to a collection of evidence. Every organ weighed transformed her from person to cadaver before Kate’s eyes. More than the sight of the blood, it was this that made Kate feel queasy—the dehumanisation of a woman who had lived and breathed, loved and laughed just a few hours before.

  Kate hated this final act of desecration. Intellectually, she knew they needed to know everything they could possibly learn from the body. Every miniscule iota of information could make the difference between understanding what had happened to Connie and failing her again. But emotionally, she felt the violation of the victim deep in her soul. This may be her first big opportunity to show what she was really capable of, but it wasn’t the first suspicious death she’d worked. It wasn’t the first autopsy she had been a part of. And she suspected she’d never feel any differently about it. A part of her even wondered if she’d want to. Wouldn’t that be more worrisome? Wouldn’t lack of feeling, empathy, connection to the victim she was trying to find justice for be more of an issue for her?

  Techs had long since taken the hair and toothbrush from her to begin harvesting DNA for comparison, to make sure, once and for all, that this was the body of Connie Wells, but Kate was in no doubt. She could see the small mole on the victim’s neck that she’d seen in the photograph on Connie’s mantelpiece, and the necklace that had been around her neck was now sitting in an evidence bag on a steel table along the wall on the other side of the room. The distinctive downward-pointing triangle, with stones around the perimeter representing the rainbow flag, hung on a leather thong that had been tied around her neck. Perhaps there was some story behind it, some significance for Connie—besides the rainbow insignia—some meaning. A gift, maybe?

  “Any idea yet what it is that’s in the wound, Doctor?” Kate asked when the preliminaries of the autopsy had been completed.

  “Let’s take a look.” She pulled on magnifying glasses and gripped a pair of tweezers. Digging into the mangled flesh, she managed to fish out a few particles of something hard. Even Kate could see that they weren’t bone fragments.

  Light reflected off the part of the surface that wasn’t covered in blood, refracting the light and casting a tiny prism onto the white floor.

  “Glass?”

  “Apparently.” Anderson placed several particles into a petri dish, then sealed and labelled it before retrieving another sample and placing it on a slide.

  “Can you tell what it’s from? I don’t remember seeing any broken bottles at the scene.”

  Anderson pushed the slide under the microscope and adjusted the lenses. “The glass does have a slight tint to it, perhaps some sort of UV coating.”

  “Sunglasses?”

  “Mmm. Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t look that dark to me and it wasn’t exactly sunny at the crack of dawn this morning. I can’t see why anyone would be wearing sun glasses at seven a.m. in October in England.”

  “Fair point.” Kate acceded.

  Anderson looked up and nodded to the petri dish. “We’ll get that off to analysis, find out exactly what the glass came from.”

  Kate nodded. “Anything else?”

  “No. She was a fit, healthy young woman. Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the head and it would have been instantaneous.”

  “Could it have been accidental?”

  “Well, anything is possible, I suppose. But frankly, I don’t see how. The weapon used was a high-powered rifle. Without knowing what interfered with the bullet’s trajectory, I can’t really get you a range or angle, or even where to look to retrieve the round, as it isn’t in the skull. I’d suggest the water, but let’s face it, pulling a bullet fragment out of that would be like tracking down dobbyhorse shit. If you’ll pardon the language. The water looks like my coffee in a morning, but doesn’t smell half as good.”

  “So, even if I find a gun, you won’t be able to match it?”

  “Not right now, no.”

  Kate sighed and regretted it as the acrid smell of formaldehyde and blood invaded her nostrils. “How long for the DNA results?”

  “Tomorrow, lunchtime. I should have analysis on the glass by then too.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “Now, I get to go play with a sleeping dog.”

  “Have fun. What’ll happen to the dog afterwards?”

  “Don’t know. Does she have any family to take the dog?”

  “As far as I know so far, she lived alone, recently broken up with her girlfriend, was getting ready to up sticks and move on in a couple of weeks.”

  “Well, if the ex doesn’t want the dog, then it’ll probably end up going to a shelter.”

  Kate shook her head. “Poor thing.”

  “You want to watch this?”

  “Nah. I think I’ll go and pay a visit to said ex and see if she wants the dog. If she didn’t kill her girlfriend, of course.”

  “Of course.” Anderson winked at her. “Later, Detective.”

  Kate pushed open the door and headed for the exit. She knew she was grinning, but what the hell. Flirty pathologists did that to her. She stopped at the hospital cafe for a coffee and managed to beat the parking attendant to her unticketed car. She pulled out of the parking bay while still pulling her seatbelt across her body and slipping her cup into the holder in the centre console, sloshing hot liquid over her hand.

  “Shit.”

  “Serves you right.” The parking attendant shouted through the glass.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she whispered under her breath. “Bite me.” She shook the last drops of coffee from her hand and picked up her Bluetooth earpiece, hitting the speed dial on her phone as she flicked the stem over her ear.

  “Timmons.”

  “Sir, I’ve just come out of the autopsy and I’m heading back to Hunstanton now, to get the ball rolling with the team.”

  “Anything interesting at the autopsy?”

  “Massive head trauma from a single gunshot is COD as we knew, Anderson found something in the wound. Looks like glass, but there wasn’t anything at the scene that fit. No broken bottles, sunglasses, or anything. She’s sent it for analysis.”

  “Do you have a definitive ID yet?”

  “Awaiting DNA results.”

  “Due in?”

  “Tomorrow, lunch time.”

  “Okay, until then?”

  “I’m working on the victim being Connie Wells. Local business owner, recently ended a relationship, was closing down her business that was one of the most influential in the local area.”

  “So, a number of p
otential suspects already.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good work. Next step, Brannon?”

  “Check in with the team at our incident room, and then I want to talk to the ex.”

  “Good. Goodwin’s expecting you. I want you and her to work as a team. Like I said before, she’s experienced. She’s also bloody efficient. and good with the details, the paperwork, running the books, and organising the facts. I want you out on the ground. You’ve seen the scene, you’ve already got a bead on the vic, and potential suspects. That’s good work, that’s fast. Keep it up and keep me informed. Take Jimmy Powers with you, and I’ve got another PC who’ll be with you this afternoon to partner up with DC Brothers by the name of Collier.”

  She could hear scratching and rustling down the line. Like he was searching through the pages of a book for the information. “Newbie. That’s why I want him with Brothers. This is his first case.”

  “Got it.” You don’t want the newbie DC with the newbie DS.

  “Just don’t let him fuck up.”

  She chuckled and read the warning for herself in the words. “I won’t.”

  “You’ll all be fine. Good people, all of ’em.”

  “I’m sure, sir. Thank you.” She hung up.

  The A149 followed the length of the coast from Kings Lynn to Cromer―sixty miles of open skies, blue seas, and sandy beaches to the left of her. Well, on a good day it was. Today wasn’t a good day. Today was a day of tractors, non-stop drizzle, and brown-grey water that looked as inviting as dysentery. The twenty-odd miles to Hunstanton dragged by slowly, and Kate tapped her finger nails on the steering wheel as she inched forward.

  She pulled into the car park at Hunstanton Police Station and turned off her engine. She swallowed the last mouthful of her coffee as she opened the door, and tossed it into the rubbish bin just inside the door. She tried to shake off her impatience and restlessness and smiled at the desk officer.

  “DS Bran...”

  “Brannon, I know.” He smiled and offered his hand. “I’m PC Noble. Inspector Savage told me to expect you. The rest of your team are upstairs setting up the incident room.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.” He pointed to a door. “Stairs are right over there. I’ll buzz you through.”

  She nodded and pushed open the door when she heard the raucous buzzing. The solid metal rail was cold beneath her hand and her boot heels clicked against the concrete stairs, but she could hear noise and banter ahead of her. Her team. Well, sort of. Shared…ish. Okay, so it was mostly Goodwin’s team, but she was of equal rank and this was her first real opportunity to step up and prove herself. At any point, Timmons could step in and actively control it all, but his priority had to be elsewhere right now. Three dead girls in the town centre. Most of Kings Lynn CID was going to be tied up with that investigation. She could ask him to step in if she didn’t think Goodwin was up to it and she couldn’t carry the load. But she knew it’d be a cold day in hell before she did that. If she could get a quick solve on this one, she’d show them she had what it took to go all the way. Inspector, chief inspector, superintendant, chief super. Fuck it, why not commissioner while she was at it?

  Oh, shut up and focus on what you’re doing before you fuck it up already.

  She pushed open the door and looked around at their new incident room. The room was long and narrow, maybe ten feet wide and fifteen feet long. A guy in his late twenties, floppy dark hair obscuring his face, was busy setting up monitors at one desk, the other monitors already in situ. A blonde woman sat at one of the fully operational stations, diligently working away at what Kate assumed was the murder book. It was a detailed account of the investigation they would carry out, a catalogue of every decision made, why they made it, and what result it netted them. As far as Kate was concerned, the woman was writing the Bible.

  A squeak drew Kate’s attention to the whiteboard that was suspended on the wall at the end of the room. The final member of the team was shaking a pen and trying to get enough ink to the tip to get it to write, but all it did was play a tune.

  “Stella, you got another pen hiding somewhere?” he asked the blonde woman.

  “Tons of ’em, chick. Want a pink one?” Stella asked.

  “Ha bloody ha—” He stopped short at seeing Kate. “Sergeant, didn’t hear you come in.”

  The young guy setting up the monitors straightened up, cable in his hand, and banged his head on the underside of the table. “Ow.” He rubbed the spot and scrunched up his face.

  “Well, you were all hard at it,” Kate said.

  The man with the pen problem tossed the dried-up pen in the rubbish bin and strode across the room, hand extended. “I’m DC Brothers. Tom.” He smiled warmly, his strong features creased with the signs of a lot of time spent in the outdoors, and a faint hint of tan lines around the eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking that he looked a little like a panda in reverse. “The lad over there’s Jimmy.”

  Jimmy, still rubbing his scalp, held out his hand. “DC Powers.” He was tall, with a wiry, long-legged build that made him look younger than he probably was. Kate had no doubt that the goatee was his way of compensating. At least it was neatly trimmed and well kept. Beards made her itch. Her father had grown one when she was a child, and seeing bits of food stuck in it had made her feel sick.

  “Nice to meet you,” Kate said.

  “Stella Goodwin.” Stella got up to greet her.

  Kate shook her hand. “Kate Brannon.” She looked around the room. “Settling in?”

  “Yes, the boys here have made themselves useful, and I think we’ve got everything we need.”

  “Excellent. Let me fill you in, then.” She grabbed a pen from the pot on Stella’s desk and crossed to the whiteboard, quickly giving the details she had and drawing a simple line diagram of the crime scene. “That’ll have to do until we get the crime scene photos.”

  “I’ve got the tide and sunrise times.” Stella read them off, and Kate added them to the diagram.

  “We’re waiting on DNA confirmation of ID, but given the confirmation of distinctive features, I’ll eat my jacket if it isn’t Connie Wells.”

  Chuckles went around the room.

  “So, what’s the plan of attack, boss?” Tom asked, looking at Stella. She in turn looked at Kate with eyebrows raised, clearly offering her the floor.

  “I want to speak to the ex-girlfriend first, and we need to get SOCO round to the victim’s house. I left a PCSO at the door and left a message on the number I had for SOCO, but no one’s got back to me yet.”

  “I’ll chase that. You head out to the ex’s.” Stella picked up the phone and punched numbers from memory.

  “We need to talk to everyone in the village,” Kate said.

  “Everyone?” Jimmy asked.

  “Yes. Without Ms. Wells, there are thirty-nine year-round residents. From what Miss Temple said, every one of them had some reason or other to dislike our victim,” Kate said.

  “Sure,” Tom said, “but not all of them will have had opportunity.”

  “Exactly. Right now we need to start ruling people out.”

  “Door to door?”

  Kate nodded, still frowning at the board. “Yes, does anyone know Ally the Cat?”

  Tom and Jimmy both sniggered.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Do you have an address?”

  Jimmy passed her a piece of paper, the writing barely legible.

  “Why?

  “Apparently, Leah Shaw is staying with her.”

  “Really?” Tom’s eyebrows arched. “Didn’t think our Ally swung that way too.”

  “Just because she’s staying there, doesn’t necessarily mean they’re sleeping together,” Kate said.

  Tom sniggered again. “You haven’t met her yet.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “That was Wild,” Stella said, hanging up the phone.

  Tom let out a shrill wolf whistle. �
��Number four,” he shouted pointing to the ring finger on his left hand and winking at her.

  “Fuck off,” Stella said, throwing him a caustic look.

  “Who’s Wild?” Kate asked.

  “Head of the forensics team working with us,” Stella said.

  “Lover boy.” Tom whispered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

  Stella glared at him. “He’s a happily married man, fuck wit. He’s not interested in me. I’m not interested in him. We work well together, and his wife’s lovely. Now get back to bloody work.”

  “Hmm. What crawled up her arse?” Tom asked and ducked under the pen that was launched at his head. Kate chuckled.

  “SOCO’ll head over there when they finish at the crime scene. They reckon a couple more hours out there.” Stella tossed Kate a card. “Plug that into your phone. Always best to go straight to the organ grinder, and Wild’s the best one they’ve got over there.”

  Kate fished her phone out of her pocket and added the contact. “They find anything interesting?”

  “No. That’s why they’re sticking with it.”

  Kate shrugged. “You guys want a lift to the village?”

  “I’ll stay here and start going over the statements the PCSO’s and PC’s dropped off,” Stella said.

  “The walkers who found her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Timmons said that we’ll be getting another body this afternoon. Collier.”

  Tom and Jimmy groaned.

  “Pack it in.” Stella warned them. “At least it means you’ll outrank someone, Jimmy.” She chuckled evilly.

  Kate sniggered at the crestfallen yet smug look that slipped onto Jimmy’s face. “Right, enough chitchat, ladies. You two with me then.” She inclined her head towards the door as the two men followed her, grabbing heavy jackets as they went.

  CHAPTER 4

  Gina pulled a thick Aran jumper over her head. She couldn’t get warm. Her hands felt like blocks of ice, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. She wrapped her arms around herself and chaffed at her biceps. She’d decided to close up for the day, sent Sarah home, and locked the office she had shared with Connie, certain the police would want to see it at some point. It only makes sense, right?