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

by Andrea Bramhall

  Gina’s tears rolled down her cheeks again and she hoped that they couldn’t be heard in her voice when she asked, “Would I be able to organise Connie’s funeral? When the time comes.”

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice was gentle, compassionate. “I’ll give your details to the coroner tomorrow and have them inform you when they can release Connie’s body for burial. I have to warn you, though, it really could be a while yet.” There was a familiarity to the way she spoke. Gina felt as though she was trying to convey far more to her than the words she said. It felt comfortable and comforting at the same time. Like hugging someone and forgetting who was doing the holding and who was being held.

  “I understand.” Gina heard the break in her own voice. “I just don’t want Connie to be left to people who didn’t know her. She deserves better than that.”

  “Everyone does.”

  Gina heard the catch in Kate’s voice and wondered what she was thinking about. Kate didn’t know Connie enough for this to have affected her so. “Do you have someone to remember you, Detective?”

  The silence stretched between them until it became brittle, like glass, one wrong move and it would shatter, splintering the fragile intimacy that had grown between them. She wondered if she should just hang up, pretend she hadn’t asked the question, and move on.

  “No,” Kate whispered. “There would be no one to mourn or remember me.” She cleared her throat. “Good night, Miss Temple.”

  “Gina,” she said, “please, call me Gina.” She heard a short intake of breath down the line and then the words were almost too quiet for her to hear.

  “Good night, Gina.”

  * * *

  Kate hung up the phone and tried to swallow the emotion that clawed its way up her throat. Damn you, Gina Temple. I was doing all right.

  Merlin sat beside her and put a paw on her thigh. She stroked her head as the first of the tears tumbled down her cheeks. The dog whined, slowly crawled onto Kate’s lap, and tucked her head against her neck, offering comfort to the crying human in the only way she could. With her whole self.

  Kate wrapped her arms around her warm, furry body and cried as she hadn’t since she was seventeen and had buried her grandmother. The woman who had raised her after her father died on that terrible night that Piper Alpha had burned. The night her father had died alongside the other men working on the rig.

  Loneliness was a word she hated, but most nights, sitting alone after she’d finished work, it was the only one that applied. She tried to hide it, or rather hide from it, by staying busy at work, going to the gym or the swimming pool, running, anything that kept her out of the house longer. It kept her sane, it kept her functioning, it kept the long winter nights from becoming too dark. It gave her a vent for the anger that sparked now and then. It gave her a rhythm, a reason, a purpose. She worked hard, but not for those she helped, and she hoped no one ever found out that she worked hard only to help herself. Selflessness for selfish reasons didn’t really count as far as she was concerned. The reason, the intent, was more important to her than the act. She didn’t help others to make them feel better, she helped them to stop herself from feeling so bad. For those few seconds, she felt a sense of belonging, a feeling that someone else did care about her, about what happened to her.

  But it never lasted. It was there one moment, and then, with a fractional shift, less even than a breath, the sensation changed. From inclusion to intrusion. Like the twist of a toy she’d had as a child, a kaleidoscope, where a tiny twist of the lens made everything move and the picture changed. That was what happiness was for her. Fleeting. Intangible. Elusive. Gone in less time than it takes to blink an eye.

  Would anyone remember her when she was gone? Would anyone mourn her? No.

  Tonight, Gina’s simple question and the unconditional love offered by a grieving animal were her undoing.

  CHAPTER 14

  The harbour was quiet and dark. The green and red lights of the boats grew smaller as they headed out to sea. A head torch illuminated the path for her while she stretched out her hamstrings by the side of an A2-sized plaque. Sixteen and a half inches by twenty-three, extolling the renascence of the Brandale Staithe Harbour in the last five years. A small line drawing of a near-derelict harbour, run-down boats, and discarded fishing gear. A mess, basically. Until 2010 when investment was secured by C. Robbins and family to reinvigorate the tiny, struggling port and all those who relied on her for their survival. C. Robbins. Cedric Robbins and family. A photograph at the bottom of the board showed Cedric, Ally, and Adam with the other fishermen, arms slung about each other’s shoulders, smiles on their faces, and a caption beneath: “Cedric Robbins and twins, Adam and Ally, showing there’s life in the old sea dog yet.”

  She lifted her arms over her head and twisted to get a good stretch on her back. “Twins, huh?” She shook her hands out and set out with Merlin.

  Running was her release, her thinking time. She was lost in her own thoughts and she drifted from one subject to another. From Gina and her phone call last night to the blasted code that was driving her mad, and the key that seemed to belong to nothing. She knew that she needed to crack them both in order to solve this murder and the more time that dragged on, the less likely catching the culprit became. Mud squelched beneath her feet with every step and she finally looked out instead of in and realised how far she and Merlin had travelled. Merlin barked.

  “Shit.” She started to turn around, to head back towards the car. “Merlin, come on girl, let’s go back this way.”

  The dog clearly had other ideas and took off in the direction they’d been headed. Straight towards the area where Connie had been killed.

  “Bollocks.” She ran after the dog, calling her name. As she got closer, she saw that Merlin had stopped and was growling at something a little way off in the distance. She squinted, still finding it difficult to see through the dim early morning light and the fog that rolled in off the North Sea. Momentarily, the fog cleared and she saw a smouldering heap of wood slowly being surrounded by the incoming tide. “Oh fuckity fuck fuck fuck.” She clipped Merlin’s lead onto her collar and attached her to a post close enough so that Merlin could see her, but far enough away to prevent her contaminating another crime scene.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled Wild. She waded through the thick mud and cold water to the remains of the houseboat she’d seen on the creek two days earlier. The roof and most of the walls were gone. She presumed the floor had only remained due to the water underneath it, but she’d be amazed if that lasted much longer, as the water rushing into the creek would surely claim the rest of the wreckage soon enough.

  “It’s not even six in the friggin’ morning. Something better be on fire.”

  “Wild? Are you psychic? It’s Brannon. I’ve got another crime scene out here on the marsh. I need you to get here ASAP.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  Kate could hear him climbing out of bed and the rustle of fabric. He was no doubt hurriedly dressing. “No,” she replied.

  “Another body?”

  “No, you were right first time. Houseboat on fire. Well, it was. Smouldering now. And sinking.”

  “The big one that was just the other side of where the body was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit. What’s the tide doing?”

  “Coming in.”

  “Bugger.”

  “I know. I think we’re going to need something to try and keep it from sinking.”

  “No time. Just get up there and collect whatever you can.”

  “I’ll contaminate the scene.”

  “Contaminated or lost. Your choice.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yup. Just get hold of whatever you can and I’ll be there in fifteen with my kit. The fire would have most likely destroyed any physical evidence of whoever set it anyway. The fire boys will do what they can with whatever remains that we manage to save.”

  Kate reached the gangplank and st
arted to walk up. “Right. See you when you get here.” She ended the call, opened her camera app, and took pictures from as many different angles as she could. She emptied her pockets and used her driver’s licence photo card in each shot to establish scale. She wasn’t sure how much use they’d be, but it was surely better than nothing. She sifted through the ashes, using the stick Merlin had brought her earlier, and found the remains of paper, plastic, and some porcelain crockery. Just one plate, one cup, and a metal bowl on the floor. Like a dog’s bowl. She frowned. The metal was covered in soot but there was a raised name that was now slightly warped. Kate wiped the soot from it and several pieces fell into place as the letters “M”, “E”, and “R” were clearly discernible.

  She fished through the ashes close to the gangplank and eventually found the hunk of metal that would have been the lock mechanism. Gut instinct—also known as Merlin’s water bowl—told her that the hunk of steel was the key to her key mystery.

  “Why the hell did no one know about this?” As Kate continued to leaf through the ashes, water rose around the hull. She worked her way through the debris as methodically as she could, taking pictures every couple of inches, and looking closely at every scrap she could find. There were pieces of paper that looked like photographs, burned beyond recognition. The only thing that remained of them were centres or corners, neither of which helped Kate make out what the hell the images were supposed to be. They looked like cages of some sort. Twisted bits of metal, maybe rope, or string with something inside them. What they were, she wasn’t sure, but she was certain that these were the missing photos that Tom had been looking for. Why were they here and what the hell were they pictures of?

  But the hull began to sink and the front end of the wreckage dipped abruptly before stopping. No doubt it was hitting the creek bottom, and Kate was very grateful that it wasn’t deep. But the water was still rising and the bow of the boat was still floating, throwing her balance way off. She started to grab more and more scraps of paper, certain that these were the remains of Connie’s photos. Photos that would tell them something about why she was killed. It was the only thing that made sense to Kate. Why else would someone have burned this down? And the only person who would have any reason to do that was the killer. No one else seemed to even know this boat was connected to Connie in the first place. So how did the killer know? And why draw attention to it by burning it down? We’d have never figured it out if they hadn’t done that.

  Kate’s mind was whirling as Wild pulled up as close to the remains as he could. He grabbed a shovel and metal bucket.

  “Here, the easiest and quickest thing is going to be getting it all into these buckets and sorting it out back at the lab.” He passed her the metal shovel. “Normally I’d say bags, but this stuff’s still hot enough to melt my evidence bags.”

  She nodded and started scooping up the evidence she’d sorted—the scraps of paper, the hunk of lock, the metal bowl—and then started on the ash and whatever evidence it was hiding. She dropped it into bucket after bucket while Wild took them and poured them into bigger containers. She looked closely and saw that they were metal rubbish bins. He had those in the back of his car? What the hell does he drive? A lorry?

  She found a couple of larger scraps and handed them to him. “These are cool enough for evidence bags. And I’d like to see if we can figure out what the pictures are of.” She handed him another full bucket and took an empty one from him. The sound of rushing water filled her ears and the back end of the boat sank to the creek bed.

  “Quick as you can, Brannon.” Wild grinned at her.

  “Piss off.” She mumbled and shovelled faster. The water around the outside was rising and almost level with the floor she was scooping contents from.

  She handed him the last bucket, the floor as clear of ash and remains as it was going to get and she stepped towards the rail where the gangplank remained. A sharp crack below her foot made her look down. The damaged wood splintered under her weight.

  “Oh, fuck! Jump!” Wild shouted.

  Without questioning his instinctive order, she jumped towards the edge and realised her mistake as soon as she landed. The forceful impact of her landing caused the floor that was left to fracture and give way completely beneath her.

  “Ah, crap.” She landed with a splash into the icy cold water that had collected in the innards of the boat. Splintered wood scraped painfully at her legs and she could feel where a nail, probably a rusted one, had cut into her calf when she’d fallen and she could feel herself starting to shiver. The bone-chilling cold penetrated her soaked jeans and surrounded her toes. “Bloody hell that’s freezing.” She braced her hands on the floor that was now at her hips.

  Wild looked over the edge of the charred wood. “Perhaps not my brightest suggestion.”

  “You think?”

  “I didn’t make you follow it,” he said with a huff.

  “No, but I didn’t have time to think of anything else either.” She held a hand up to him. “Pull me out.”

  He held his hands up and shook his head. “No way. There’s nails and all sorts in that mess. I’m not getting involved in shish kebabing you.”

  “Oh, give over.” She pushed against the floor but something dug into the back of her thigh. She tried to pull her leg forward in the hopes that it would dislodge it, but she found she couldn’t move far enough and a sharp pain shot up her thigh. Bugger. “On second thought, might be an idea to call for some other help. Something’s stuck in me that doesn’t seem to want to move.”

  “Already called.” He waved his phone. “Shouldn’t take long.”

  “Great. In the meantime, have you got a first aid kit in that car of yours?”

  “Yeah, of course. Why?”

  “I’m bloody freezing. You got one of those space blankets or something? I’m gonna die of hypothermia otherwise.”

  “I’ll go see.”

  It felt like two hours of shivering before he came back with the bad news that he didn’t have one in his kit. “Must have been used and not replaced. I’ll go and get one from across the road. Hold tight.”

  Her teeth were chattering so much that he was gone before she could respond. “Bring two,” she shouted after him, in the hope, he might have been able to hear her. Merlin barked. She mustn’t have been able to see anyone anymore and thought she’d been abandoned. “I’m here, girl. Sorry I tied you up before. But we’ll get out of this in a few minutes. Just you wait and see.” The barking became a piteous howl. Kate laughed despite her shivering jaw. “Oh, that’s pathetic, Merlin.”

  The pain in her leg subsided. Numbed by the cold, no doubt. She kept checking her watch to see just how much time had passed. After precisely three minutes and twenty-three seconds, the dog began to yip and bark excitedly.

  “Who’s there?” Kate asked.

  “A friendly first aider,” Gina said, peering over the edge of the hull. “Looks like you’re in a bit of mess.”

  “Yup. And freezing.”

  “So I see. Your lips have gone blue. I’m guessing that isn’t a new lipstick you’re trying out.”

  “What? You don’t like the frozen-arsed, punk look?” The banter took her mind off her predicament for a few moments and helped ease her embarrassment. Well, sort of.

  “Well, I can think of a few looks that would suit you better.” She shook out a silver foil blanket and wrapped it around Kate’s shoulder.

  “Can you now?” She smiled and gripped the edges of the foil. “Thanks.”

  “Several, in fact. And no problem.” She pointed to the sharp edges digging into Kate’s hips and buttocks. “I’m not going to stand on that as I’m afraid I might drive something into you farther. The ambulance is on its way, and I’ve got William coming over with some tools on the quad in a couple of minutes. We should be able to figure something out and get you out of this mess.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So what happened here?”

  “Fire.”

 
Gina laughed. “Yes, I can see that bit. I meant, how come you’re stuck in the hole?”

  “Trying to collect evidence before it got washed away.” She nodded towards the water.

  “Ah.” She peered down into the hole, clearly trying to see what was going on underneath the charred planks. “And how high has the water gotten now?”

  “It’s hard to tell, as the water’s soaked into my jeans and my legs are pretty much numb now.”

  “Can you get a hand in there without causing any damage?”

  “Erm, yeah, probably. Why?”

  “Well the water out here’s pretty high now, and it’s going to make it harder to work if we have to keep you standing. The higher the water level in there, the quicker you’re going to get hypothermic.”

  “Right.” Kate slid a hand down her thigh and leaned to the right until she felt the water level. “Half way up my thigh.”

  Gina’s eyebrows rose. “Bleeding?”

  Kate glanced down. “The waters the colour of coffee. How could I tell?”

  “Fair point. Pain?

  Kate shook her head. “At first, but now it’s just numb.”

  “How bad?”

  “Sharp stabbing pain. Maybe a four or five. Nothing bad.”

  “Okay. I’m going to try and pry away some of these boards that I can reach here and see if we can make a little more room to work. Can you brace your arms either side?”

  “Yeah. There’s something sticking in the back of my right thigh. I tried to pull it forward but I couldn’t get free.”

  “Something like a piece of wood or a nail?”

  “Not sure. I can’t reach to feel what it is.”

  “Okay.” Gina reached forward and tugged gently at the short plank between Kate’s belly and the edge where she was leaning over.

  “Aren’t you getting cold in the water?” Kate asked.

  “I’m on the gangplank.”

  “Oh, right.” Kate shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Gina pulled harder until the length of wood rose slowly against the force of the nails holding it against the support struts. It took many attempts to finally free the short plank from its hold, but she was then able to toss it towards the front of the boat and she could see that the water was now level with the supports.