Shadow of the Beast: A DS Hunter Kerr Novel

by Michael Fowler

  A sharp pain in his toes brought back his thoughts – the cold had started to bite through his soles. It felt more like winter than the beginning of autumn he chuntered to himself as he began stamping his feet. Staring down at his shoes he cursed. He’d freshly cleaned them last night, buffed the toes until he caught his reflection – and now look at them – covered in mud. His day was getting shittier by the minute.

  A sudden cry of ‘Detective’ made him jump and he shot a glance in the direction of the forensic tent. Dr Wilson’s head was poking out through the opening flap. Her ruddy round face displayed a wry smile.

  ‘I think you need to come and have a look at this,’ she said.

  * * *

  Following his viewing of Doctor Wilson’s discovery, Hunter had immediately told the foreman he was sequestering the Portakabin as a temporary incident room and that he wanted everyone to leave. The crew weren’t happy about that, and not all of them were happy that they had to give their details and it had taken more than gentle persuasion to get them to comply. Now he was following them to the exit, his thoughts going through action points from his crime scene training; he had already telephoned the communications room, updated the Incident Manager and requested the attendance of a Senior Investigating Officer, plus Crime Scene Investigators and also asked for members of his Major Investigation Team to join him.

  The site foreman was the last person to leave, upon which, Hunter heaved the metal gate to, leaving just enough space for someone to squeeze through and began unwinding a roll of blue and white crime scene tape to seal the place off to Joe Public. The driving rain had stopped, but a biting wind was making the job difficult and he was still battling with the tape when the first of those he had requested appeared.

  Hunter watched his team’s unmarked car approach, rocking on its chassis, throwing up brown slush as its wheels dipped in and out of the deep ruts that made up the track to the site.

  It parked up a few yards away in front of the barricade of heavy mesh panels, which protected the compound, and Hunter watched three of the doors opening, trying his best to suppress a grin because he knew what was coming.

  His working partner, DC Grace Marshall, her trim figure dressed in dark trousers and Barbour jacket, was the first to emerge. Opening the front passenger door, she planted her feet down heavily, and he observed her tawny face screw into a grimace as her ballet-style pumps disappeared into soaking clay with a squelch. For a second Grace stood there, up to her ankles in mud. Momentarily she looked down at her feet and then lifted her gaze and threw him a daggers look.

  Biting his lip, he called out, ‘I hope you’ve brought wellingtons with you, you’ll need them.’ Then he added, ‘You’ll need your protective suits as well.’

  DC Tony Bullars slammed shut the driver’s door, his chiselled features wearing a not too impressive look as he lifted a sludge-caked shoe, stared at it for a second before switching his gaze towards his Sergeant. ‘Bloody hell Hunter, you could have warned us.’ Returning his soggy foot to the mud he added, ‘Anyway, what’s this about? I’ve had to leave tea and toast and a nice warm office behind. I hope it’s worth it?’

  Hunter nodded as he saw the final member of his team, DC Mike Sampson, push open the rear door and swing out a leg. He replied, ‘You guys should know me by now. One thing I don’t do is bring you out on a wild goose chase. Believe me, this is worth it!’

  * * *

  While briefing Grace, Tony and Mike, as to the forensic anthropologist’s find, Hunter got a phone call from Dawn Leggate. In her Scottish burr she informed him that she was on her way back from Sheffield and ordered him to ‘sit on things’ until she got there.

  The four of them kitted themselves out in protective suits, and then set down reinforced plates from the gated entrance to the Portakabin and across to the white tent. Today they served a dual purpose, not only did they provide a mud-free route to where the bones had been found, and thus not further forensically contaminate the locale, but also serve to keep everyone’s feet dry.

  They were about to return to the Portakabin when Hunter spotted the slim figure of SIO Dawn Leggate plodding towards them. She was wearing a waterproof jacket with the hood up and designer wellingtons. Glancing at the labelled woollen socks covering the tops of her boots Hunter fought back a smile. Since the Detective Superintendent’s arrival a year ago there had been constant office competition in the fashion stakes between his working partner Grace and his boss. It had been the subject of much conversation between the men as to who should turn up looking the best. They had even occasionally bet a first round of drinks on it

  At least, unlike his partner, she was dressed for the weather, Hunter thought as he watched her approach.

  A sudden cry of ‘Detective Superintendent’ brought her march to a halt.

  Hunter swung his gaze sideways and clapped eyes on three people foot-slogging towards the SIO. One of them had a TV camera on his shoulder. He recognised another as the local Chronicle reporter. Shit! He had completely forgotten about them. They must have been in their cars sheltering from the rain. This was not good. He switched back to his boss, whose face, until this instance, had borne her ‘down to business’ appearance. Now he could see it had taken on a look of anguish. But it was only momentary. With true professionalism, she turned to face the media and pasted on a faux smile.

  Holding up a hand she said, ‘Guys you can see I’ve only just got here. As soon as I have something I’ll make a statement.’ With that she carried on towards Hunter fixing him with a stare.

  He mouthed the words ‘sorry’ as she neared. He was about to speak when she brokered his silence with a raised hand.

  Dawn Leggate said, ‘Warn me next time, Hunter,’ adding, ‘and get uniform down here pronto, I don’t want the press trampling all over my crime scene.’ Then, taking a deep breath she continued, ‘Okay now tell me what we’ve got.’

  Swallowing hurt pride and composing himself Hunter answered, ‘As you already know this past week they have been demolishing the old chapel estate and at just after seven o’clock this morning one of the JCB drivers had started to clear away the remains of the old chapel when he unearthed a skull. He stopped work immediately and the site foreman called us. Uniform came down here, confirmed it was a human skull, spoke with the Incident Inspector back in communications, who then called out the forensic anthropologist and you asked me to attend to oversee the excavation. Just over an hour ago now Dr Wilson discovered…’ Hunter paused. ‘…well I think you’re going to love this. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.’ At that moment over his boss’s shoulder he saw the forensic van drawing up and recognised the driver. ‘Tell you what boss, Duncan Wroe’s here now. You can get suited up, I’ll have a quick word with Duncan and we’ll all take a look and see.’

  * * *

  Huddled together, almost scrum-like inside the tent, amongst broken scorched timbers, fire-ravaged sandstone bricks and rubble, Hunter, SIO Dawn Leggate, Crime Scene Manager Duncan Wroe and Dr Anna Wilson stood around a shallow sludgy grave in which lay the remains Dr Wilson had uncovered; spread-eagled before them was the strangest looking, partially clothed, human corpse Hunter had ever seen. Parts of the brown-stained skeleton were covered by a thick sticky, soapy white substance, some of which had mould growth and, although his mind was telling him it was flesh, it certainly didn’t look like it. Even stranger was the bony structure lying across the corpse’s chest.

  CSM Duncan Wroe leaned in and started taking photographs.

  Dawn Leggate couldn’t take her eyes off the aberration. Shaking her head, she said, ‘Jesus, what’s that on its chest? It looks like an alien!’

  Dr Wilson turned and answered. ‘I’d love it to be! Now that would be a first. But sadly it’s not alien, it’s animal. What you’re looking at is the skull of a cow.’

  Dawn Leggate traded eye contact with Hunter and they both said ‘Cow?’ at the same time.

  The SIO took back her gaze and fixed the anthropolo
gist. ‘You’re telling me that a cow’s head has been placed on the chest of a dead body. In some kind of ritual or what?’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘I’ve never come across anything like this before.’ Anna re-covered her mouth and nose with a face-mask and crouched down at the edge of the grave. Slowly rotating a trowel over the skull, its toothy grimace staring back mockingly, she said, ‘When I got here only the skull had been exposed by the digger, so before I started work on the excavation I spoke with your sergeant, and the foreman, about the history of this place, so that I could get a sense of what I might be examining.’ She glanced up, ‘You know, to get an indication as to likely age of the skeleton. I was presuming that given that the burial of the skeleton was beneath where the wooden altar used to be that the body here was more than likely the benefactor who had provided the funds to have this place built and been given a worshipful burial, but the more I exposed, the more I realised this skeleton is not as old as I expected, hence the reason you’re all here.’

  Staring at the body with a mixture of disbelief and morbid curiosity Hunter said, ‘The clothes?’

  The doctor fixed Hunter’s gaze. Only her dark brown eyes were showing. They twinkled. The rest of her face was covered by the hood of her Tyvek suit and face mask. She replied, ‘Exactly. Dead giveaway eh?’ She dipped her trowel back over the remains, working her way around the cow’s skull she picked out the dirty pair of pleated, pastel-pink, trousers encasing bony legs and a soil-stained white, woollen, cap-sleeve jumper that had ridden up towards the neck. ‘I’m no fashion expert but those clothes look like what someone would have worn in the 1980s, and their style suggests to me that this body is female.’

  Dawn Leggate said, ‘So we’re looking at a female who’s been buried here sometime in the nineteen-eighties?’

  ‘My initial examination indicates that, though I’ll know a lot better when I get the body back to the mortuary and do a post mortem.’

  ‘And can I ask you about the cow’s skull Anna? I can see tufts sticking to it. Was it already a skull when it was placed over the body or was it a full cow’s head?’

  ‘Oh I’m fairly confident it would have been a full cow’s head when it was put here with the body. The state of decomposition looks to be the same.’ She glanced up from her crouched position. ‘Bizarre eh? But thankfully that’s not my job to find out the reason behind why it was put here. That’s yours.’

  Hunter eyes were glued to the discovery. Arrowing a finger towards the cadaver he said, ‘Sorry to interrupt you Doctor but can I just ask what that slimy stuff on the body is? Is it flesh?’

  ‘It is flesh. We anthros call it “grave wax”. Its real title is adipocere formation. It’s when the fattest parts of the body turn to a slimy substance. And it occurs because of the damp soil. In this case, the temperature inside the chapel has been temperate. The foundations of any old building are always damp. It could have done us a favour, especially when I do the post mortem. Although it looks messy it’s actually preserved some of the flesh, which could help with identifying the body and it may also give us a clue as to how this person met their death. I’ll be able to do a more thorough investigation once we get this body to the mortuary.’

  Just before turning to leave Hunter took one last glimpse at the repulsive looking corpse and the cow’s skull covering its chest. A chill travelled down his spine. His head was trying to make sense of it all. He just knew that this was going to be a case like no other.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DAY ONE OF THE INVESTIGATION

  In the MIT office, hair fastened up, dressed pin-neat in dark blue slacks and a white cotton blouse, and looking fresh, Detective Superintendent Dawn Leggate stuck an A4 photograph of a brown-stained skeleton onto a white board, adding to the two crime scene photos already there. This image depicted a series of mud-encrusted bones laid out in anatomical position on a metal gurney; it was a shot taken in the Medico-Legal centre prior to its post mortem examination. Next to it the SIO wrote in capital letters VICTIM and added a question mark.

  Slapping a hand over the image and turning to face her team, she opened with, ‘Yesterday’s photograph of our victim excavated from its grave, taken just before Doctor Anna Wilson carried out her examination.’ Pausing, checking she had everyone’s attention she continued, ‘As you all know, originally what we had was a skull unearthed by the driver of a JCB yesterday morning from beneath the wooden altar of the old chapel at Chapel Meadows, and it was initially thought to be the body of someone from the Victorian era who was buried there when the chapel was built. What we discovered when Doctor Wilson uncovered the rest of the skeleton was anything but. Yesterday afternoon Doctor Wilson carried out a post mortem on the remains and has confirmed that this female was killed and buried there a lot more recently, most probably in the nineteen-eighties. She has a few more tests to carry out before she can nail anything down as to a year.’ She flicked her head back at the photographs. ‘What we have here is a female, and the doc has been able to narrow down her age to between late teens and early twenties. She was white, between five feet six inches and five feet eight inches tall, with light brown hair at the time of her death. From examination and x-rays she’s found that our victim has suffered a fractured right wrist, which had healed, though the injury occurred only a few years prior to her death, and she had also suffered fractures to two lower ribs on her right side. The doc believes that these fractures occurred around the same time as one another and are consistent with a violent physical assault.’ Dawn Leggate paused. ‘This information will be very significant when it comes to the tasks I’ll be allocating.’ Pausing again she continued, ‘What the doc has also found is that the victim had a broken jaw, a fracture to her right cheekbone and she had two fractured fingers on her right hand. Unlike the other fractures these were caused very close to her death. She had also been strangled. Her hyoid bone had been fractured. That was likely to be her cause of death.’ She took a deep breath and tapped one of the crime scene photographs. ‘And this bizarre discovery will not have gone unnoticed by you all.’ She stuck a finger over the large skull laid across the corpse’s chest. ‘Doctor Wilson has confirmed that this is the skull of a cow, that it was crudely severed from its body and that it was more than likely as fresh as our victim when they were buried together.’ Placing her hands on her hips she continued, ‘I’ve dealt with a lot of murders in my time, but this is the first time I’ve ever come across anything like this and it’s certainly raised a number of questions, which I’ll come on to in a minute.’ Waiting for a second for what she had said to sink in, she picked up another photo and fixed it to the board. This was a shot of soiled pink trousers, a dirty white woollen top, and a dirty white bra and pants. ‘First, more evidence. This is the clothing our victim was wearing. It’s all UK size twelve. The label on the jumper is Richard Shops, a fashion store which no longer exists but was popular in the seventies and eighties. I will be putting out an enquiry to see if we can narrow down this particular style and year of manufacture.’ With a smile she added, ‘The doc told me this is very similar to clothing she wore in her teens, during the eighties, so I’m going with that era at the moment. What is interesting is that her bra was found beneath the body with the clasp broken, which would suggest that it been forcibly removed. It also has stains, which forensic believe might be blood stains, mainly around the right cup, suggesting she had suffered some form of injury to her right breast.’ She momentary studied the faces of her team, ‘And we also have this,’ The SIO put up another photo, this one depicted a heavily soiled oblong piece of patterned carpet. The specific design, made up of red, green and brown, could not be picked out because of the ingrained dirt. ‘This piece of carpet was found during the unearthing of the skeleton. She was lying on top of it with the lower part wrapped around her legs. Duncan Wroe has done an initial examination, and believes that given its size, and how it’s been cut in places, that once upon a time this was made to go in the back of a van.’ She jabbed a
finger over a portion of the photograph. ‘See here, there are a couple of identical sections cut out opposite one another where Duncan believes it would have fitted around the wheel arches. Apparently he has come across something like this before in another job and so he’s pretty confident about his suggestion. With that job he was able to find the van and make the fit. However, in this case we may have our work cut out. The van this carpet came from has more than likely been scrapped years ago, but at least it’s a start.’ Staring into the room she said, ‘Given this information, the possibility is that the chapel is not the primary site where our victim was killed. The likelihood is that she was killed elsewhere – that could be in the back of a van, or she was put into a van after she was killed, and then transported to the chapel where she was carried in this carpet and then buried.’ Facing the room and rubbing her hands together she said, ‘That’s the evidence guys. Now the enquiries. Following my conversation with Doctor Wilson and the Crime Scene Manager the likelihood is that our victim was sexually assaulted, given that her bra has been snapped and removed, and at some stage she has put up a struggle, resulting in the fractures to her cheekbone and fingers. She was killed when her attacker, or attackers, strangled her. Until further tests are carried out we aren’t sure whether she was raped or not, but given that her trousers and pants were still in place it’s not believed that is the case.’ She bounced her gaze around the room, ‘And as you all know we have this find thrown into the mix, which has baffled me, but will feature in our enquiries.’ She threw a glance over her shoulder to the crime scene photo of the cow’s skull lying across the chest of the corpse. ‘Dr Wilson states that when this was laid across the chest of our victim it will have been a full cow’s head.’ Her face formed an incredulous look. ‘The placing of the cow’s head on the body before she was buried is obviously significant to the killer or killers but to us, at this moment in time, it’s a mystery. Whether it was done as part of some satanic ritual is anyone’s guess. I’m hoping that once we find out who this unfortunate woman is we might get an answer.’ Lifting her hands to her face, forming them prayer-like in front of her mouth and tapping her bottom lip she momentary observed her team. After several seconds of silence, she dropped her hands and said, ‘Right everyone, lines of enquiry. Who is our victim? We already have the old injuries – the broken wrist and ribs – which might assist in identifying her. She must have at least had her fractured wrist treated and therefore there should be medical records somewhere. And secondly, dental records. Our victim has had a number of fillings carried out. The doc’s recorded them and I want that enquiry doing. The doc’s also gone some way to providing a brief physical description and we have her clothing. I want checks done of all local missing persons from the eighties. The press already have the heads up on this find so I’m doing a press conference later today which will be going out on this evening’s news. I’m going to give them the description of our victim and photographs of the clothing to run with and see what comes back. I am not going to disclose how our victim met her death and I am certainly not going to mention the cow’s head. I am also going to hold back on the carpet evidence.’ Her voice trailed off as she glanced once more at the faces of her team. ‘With regard to the piece of carpet she was found partially wrapped in, as I’ve already said, we are more than likely looking at the nineteen-eighties when this happened. Forensics are going to work on a section of the carpet to see if they can come up with a design. They certainly will be able to get its composition and from that I will be putting out an enquiry to identify the manufacturer and determine local outlets. Duncan is going to work with the forensic service to see if we can narrow down the make, or makes of van, it could fit. As to the time-frame of this murder the doc thinks she might be able to tighten this up to within a specific year or two, but she’s going to have to carry out some more tests of the bones and those results will not be with us for a good few days. Until then we work with what we’ve got.’