With Deadly Intent

by KA Richardson

  Chapter Two

  Ryhope Police Station – 20 September

  The wind was howling outside in the courtyard. Cassandra Hunt stood at the window, slowly hung up the phone, and stared out, taking a moment to think, as she always did when she was called to an incident. The walls of her office provided little comfort, with posters advertising blood spatter information, rules for recovering footwear marks and entomology guidelines.

  It was the worst feeling, being called to an incident when you’d left work for the day. Most people get to leave work behind, but not a crime scene manager. The whirr of the printer in the corner stopped, pulling Cass from the momentary daydream she always had when she had this feeling in the pit of her stomach – the one where she was on a beach somewhere hot, without a job to do. She turned and stared at the printer, willing the now printed pages to disappear. But they remained.

  It wasn’t often that forensics was required at a fatal road traffic accident, but it wasn’t unheard of. It was the first time Cass had been called back to work to attend one, though, and with the wind blowing a hoolie outside, it wasn’t one she was looking forward to.

  Cass sighed and grabbed the hair bobble off her computer base unit. Deftly, she twisted her hair up and secured it in place using the elasticised piece of material. She pulled two pens from the pen pot beside the computer and drove them through her hair Chinese-style. Years of experience doing the job had taught her that, strangely, the one place she wouldn’t lose things from was her hair. As she worked a scene, she often ended up with various other items secured within the folds of her ponytail. Fingerprint brushes, pens, even swabs had found their way there at some point in her career.

  Cass checked the stock on the van, plugged the information into the waiting satnav and set off towards the countryside to the north of the large town, Ryhope. Following the automated voice, she arrived at Burley Bank in no time, shivering slightly as the wind buffeted the van from side to side on the open stretches of her journey. She took the steep hill carefully, aware of its hidden dangers, and pulled to a stop at the base, behind the marked car and ambulance. The flashing blue lights of both illuminated the road, highlighting the large tree and mangled car now in view.

  She jumped out of the van and approached the uniformed officers, noticing that the paramedics were still inside their ambulance. She glanced quickly at the collar numbers of the two officers, committing them to memory. They were talking together in hushed tones and pulled apart slightly as she approached.

  ‘Hey, Cass, sorry to pull you out of bed on a night like this. The incident support unit is at a road traffic collision on the A19 so they’ve been held up. Looks like she hit the bend too fast and wrapped herself round a tree,’ said the older of the two men. She recognised him as one of the nightshift sergeants from her depot, Harry Green. He’d worked traffic for years, so she purposely didn’t speak, waiting for him to finish.

  ‘Something just isn’t sitting right. There’re no skid marks, she didn’t try to slow down. Also, there’s just something about her positioning in the car.’ He shook his head, ‘I dunno. Maybe it’s nothing but I figured better to be safe than sorry. Paramedics have proclaimed life as extinct on arrival.’

  Cass nodded. ‘OK, Harry, thanks. I’ll just grab some lighting and have a look.’ She went to the van and pulled out a couple of heavy-duty lamps. Working silently, she set them up and plugged them into the portable generator in the back of the van. She started on the incline, noting that Harry was right: there was no evidence of skid marks, nothing to say the victim had even attempted to apply her brakes. A fleeting thought of possible suicide crossed her mind, but she pushed it back. It wasn’t her job to assume; she needed facts. She felt her gut grow heavier, however. The bad feeling from the office had followed her and she knew that that was never a good sign.

  She carefully approached the side of the vehicle, sweeping her handheld Maglite torch from side to side across the ground. She saw a slight indentation in the grass at the foot of the tree, as though something heavy had been set down there for a while. The front of the vehicle was wrapped around the base of the tree, almost hugging it from both sides. Her torch hovered on the red spatter on the inside of the cracked windscreen, and something about the distribution made her pause. She would expect to see blood from an impact, possibly an upward spatter effect as the head was thrown backwards from the collision. That was there. But there was other blood too. Cass frowned as she realised the airbag had failed to deploy.

  Her gaze moved to the victim. A female, her face coated in a sea of red, her lifeless eyes staring out like small islands. Squinting as her eyes adjusted between artificial light and darkness, Cass guessed the woman’s age to be around mid to late twenties. A large laceration spread across the woman’s forehead, consistent with an impact on the steering wheel. Her face showed bruising to the right-hand side, and Cass furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating on the bruising.

  It didn’t seem plausible that it was caused by the crash. It looked more like someone who had been beaten.

  She carefully moved the torch down towards the neckline of the victim, and that’s when she saw it: a wound, heavily disguised by the amount of blood but there nonetheless. A neat but obviously deep laceration over the jugular area, which most definitely explained the additional arterial blood presence on the windscreen.

  Cass pulled back quickly, retracing her steps to where the sergeant waited patiently.

  ‘Harry, you need to get this road closed off and outer cordons put up immediately. We need a major incident log starting and the Murder Team down here, now.’

  Harry paled slightly but trusting her judgement he turned and started barking orders into his radio.

  Cass paused, contemplating her next actions. She felt a chill crawl up her arms, as though someone was watching her through the darkness. Pushing the uneasy feeling to the back of her mind, she decided she’d move the van and start photographing the area.

  She had taken most of her shots when suddenly she looked up, unsure of what she was looking at in the pitch-black of the night sky. Dark clouds scurried across her view and she felt a heavy drop of cold water hit her cheek with a splash. She cursed loudly and moved quickly back to the van.

  The younger officer heard her. ‘Is everything OK?’ he asked. She stared at him blankly for a second, not comprehending. ‘You need to help me,’ she said, turning and grabbing the tent from the partition at the back of the van. She briefed him quickly on putting up the tent, and in just a few minutes, the large green expanse of material covered the vehicle completely. Cass hammered in the last peg just as the heavens opened and the rain joined the wind in an awe-inspiring battle of the elements.

  It seemed like forever, but in reality it was only around thirty minutes until the Murder Team rolled up at the scene in their unmarked Ford Focus. Cass and Harry had set up a cordon round the crash site, and Harry had posted the younger officer at the lower cordon at the bottom of the incline while he managed the upper cordon at the top. All the vehicles were parked at the top, and Cass was sitting inside the cab to her van. She had phoned her boss, Kevin Lang, the Area Forensic Supervisor (AFS), and given him a brief on what was happening. Kevin was one of those rare bosses who had complete faith in his staff. He told Cass to keep him updated and to make sure she used the call-out system as soon as she needed additional staff. She said she’d wait until after the briefing with the Murder Team Cadre, who would be heading up the investigation, and get back to him then.

  Cass pulled her hood tightly around her face and jumped out of the van. She was standing beside the Focus as the three detectives clambered out.

  She was pleased to see Detective Chief Inspector Alexander McKay heading up the team. ‘Alex,’ she said in acknowledgement as he gave her a quick smile.

  ‘The MI van will be here in about half hour,’ he said, placing his hand at the base of her spine and guiding her back to the dryness of her van. The touch made her skin prickle through he
r Gore-Tex jacket. Hurriedly she got into the van and turned the ignition, putting the blowers and heaters on for warmth as Alex climbed in beside her.

  ‘So, what have we got, Cass?’ he asked, knowing her well enough to expect a straight answer. She explained quickly, giving him speedy recommendations. Cass had already heard from the radio dispatcher that the pathologist was en route from Darlington so would be at the scene in around an hour. Alex nodded as she finished her summary; he had worked with Cass on a number of cases and had a lot of respect for her knowledge and methodology. He jumped out of the van and made his way back to his team to advise them of his action strategy, emphasising the importance of forensic awareness.

  Cass phoned Kevin again. ‘Hiya, boss. I’m gonna need at least two more CSIs here tonight. Faith is on duty tomorrow and has a doctor’s appointment with Joey first thing, so don’t call her. Can we use Johnny from Silksworth? He’s on a mid-shift tomorrow so can just carry through, and Carla from Sunderland City? I’ve got the car tented, but the rain’s still coming down hard. The sooner we get the victim out and the car uplifted the better. I’ve got SL Motorbods on stand-by for the uplift with a full-curtain truck.’

  ‘No problem, Cass. Do you need me down there too? I can call the nurse to look out for Madge. I’ll be there faster than Johnny at any rate.’ Cass heard the silent plea not to need him. She knew how hard his life was at the moment. His wife had cancer and was losing the battle daily. Kevin had backed off from doing on-calls, and understandably did not wish to leave his wife in the hands of a nurse at silly o’clock in the morning.

  ‘No, Kevin, you need to stay there with Madge. I can manage fine until Johnny and Carla get here. The RV point is at the top of Burley Bank. The MI Team have the lounge all set up.’ Cass smiled into the phone, knowing Kevin would understand the slang term they all used for the mobile truck the MI Team used at major crime scenes. It consisted of an adapted moving truck, which housed a section formed and secured into a mobile office, and a refreshment area for the staff on scene. It had been a large investment for the force when it had been purchased a few years before, and there had been worries that it wouldn’t be used as often as it should, especially with younger people joining the force. The driving licence requirements were old school and required a D-classification for the truck to be driven. But it had turned out to be one of the best large purchases made and was deployed frequently, both for major incidents and training days.

  ‘Thanks, Cass,’ said Kevin. He knew she could handle the scene and reminded her to phone him if there were any issues.

  Cass ended the call just as Alex approached her van. She clambered out, shivering at the sudden temperature change. The wind buffeted around them, pulling her hood back from her head and causing the rough zip edge of her lapel to slap her cheek sharply. It drew a little blood and she saw concern on Alex’s face. He reached out to touch her cheek just as she stepped back, stopping him before he made contact.

  ‘I’m fine, Alex,’ she yelled above the wind, not intentionally abruptly and unaware of how rude she sounded. She used a thumb to swipe at the scratch, before pulling her hood tighter and securing the fastener. Then, catching the rapidly disguised flash of hurt on his face, she smiled at him in apology for what she now realised had been a sharp retort.

  ‘Sorry, Alex, I was a little distracted. I’m fine, honest. Have we got a plan of action?’

  Alex nodded. ‘Come join me in the lounge. How long till your staff get here? I’m thinking the weather is becoming a problem. Even the sided tent isn’t going to hold for long in this wind.’ He was almost shouting to be heard over the horrendous weather.

  The temperature had dropped sharply. Shoving her hands inside her jacket pockets, Cass followed Alex into the shelter of the lounge. The experienced detectives already had two whiteboards set up with the beginnings of pertinent information starting to show. Two computers whirred on the desk to the left, set up to connect wirelessly to the force’s computers via the mobile 3G service, also used for front-line officers’ personal radios. Three uniformed officers sat at the small round table to the right, their cold hands wrapped around steaming cups of fresh coffee. Cass inhaled deeply and didn’t notice the groan of appreciation that escaped her lips at the scent of the fresh brew.

  Alex heard and quickly poured her a cup, topping it up with milk. He remembered how she took her coffee from the odd time he’d made it in the past, which he found a little strange since he couldn’t remember how his sergeant took it, half the time. But he pushed the stray thought to one side and handed her the mug, nodding as she thanked him and took a huge gulp.

  ‘So, when are your guys getting in?’ he asked again, getting straight down to business. Cass explained that she had a couple of staff coming in and that they shouldn’t be too long. She couldn’t do anything until the pathologist had arrived: protocol was that the doctor had to examine the body in situ before anything else happened.

  ‘Do we have a name for the victim?’ she said, almost as an afterthought.

  Alex nodded. ‘Yeah, she’s presumed to be Susan Mackintosh, twenty-six years old. She worked at the Asda store on Leechmere Road. She has two young kids, and a husband.’ He paused, realising his slip. ‘I mean, had. I’ve sent the Family Liaison round to the home to confirm identity and make the death notification. Did you notice anything initially about the cause of death, or should I wait for the pathology report?’

  ‘Looks like her jugular was sliced, judging by the laceration to her neck and the blood spatter on the windshield. There’s also some additional bruising and injuries inconsistent with the crash but the doctor will be able to tell better when he gets her cleaned up and starts the post-mortem, which will probably be later today,’ said Cass. ‘I’ll have Jason Knowles attend the post-mortem with his staff. Faith and Deena can deal with the vehicle when they come in for shift. Hopefully it won’t be too long before it can be uplifted which should give it ample time to be dried out in the forensic bay at SL Motorbods.’

  ‘It’s a strange one, Cass. In cases like this it’s often the husband or someone she knows.’ A deep frown furrowed his brow at his train of thought.

  Cass frowned back at him, nodding her agreement. ‘Definitely seems like overkill and shows careful planning. How could the killer know she’d crash into the tree?’ she asked.

  A moment of silence passed between them as they sat contemplating the implications of the killer’s actions.

  Hill Overlooking Burley Bank

  From his vantage point high above the crash site, he watched.

  The cold wind had seeped into his core and he shivered, but he knew it was worth it. He needed to see what happened. He smiled as they scurried about at the bottom of the hill, erecting their tent to preserve the forensic evidence he knew he hadn’t left behind. It was a shame they were working for nothing.

  Stretching, he pushed his shoulders back, feeling the pinch as they protested.

  He could be patient though; he’d had plenty of practice at waiting. Settling back into position, he pulled a box from his backpack and removed a foil wrapped square and a small flask. A slice of malt loaf and a cup of hot coffee would do for now; he could have a full meal later when he got home.

  His tummy grumbled as he took his first bite and watched as yet another car arrived at the top of the hill.

  Burley Bank

  Time passed quickly, though it felt slow to Cass as she drank her coffee in the lounge. Lost in thought, she jumped as the rear door was flung open and the pathologist entered. She was relieved to see Nigel Evans, and she smiled as he joined her and Alex at the table.

  Nigel was an excellent doctor. He was efficient and had a dry sense of humour that could make the most horrific murder a little more bearable to deal with. A tall, kind-looking man, his eyes always sparkled whether with humour or with anger at lives taken too soon, and his hair permanently looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, though Cass was certain he must comb it. She also kn
ew enough about him to know he liked to assess the scene and make his own judgements. She slowly rose from her seat and gave him a brief breakdown of information, before leading him out of the lounge and down to the crash site.

  At the bottom of the hill, she stood back a touch and let him take the lead across the silver stepping plates leading towards the passenger door. The intimate confines of the tent caused them to hug the edge of the vehicle tightly.

  Nigel always worked verbally, his Dictaphone out of sight in his jacket pocket, but tonight his voice wouldn’t be heard over the driving rain.

  ‘Would you mind taking a few notes for me?’ he asked Cass loudly over the wind. She nodded her agreement and grabbed a pen from her hair and paper from one of the many pockets of her utility jacket. They worked deftly together, time passing quickly as Nigel commented on wounds and body positioning. Once he had finished his examination, Cass handed him the papers with her neat writing clearly legible against the stark white of the paper. Nigel then headed to the lounge while Cass found Alex to update him.

  ‘Nigel agrees that this is a murder. There’s no apparent reason for the laceration to her neck, or the bruising to the side of her face. He’s going to book in the PM for tomorrow afternoon at Sunderland City General. We can get the body recovered now, but I think we may require the fire brigade. It looks like the crash has damaged the dash and steering surround and I think her legs may be trapped. We’ll need to go in the passenger side to get her out – I don’t want to lose any evidence by forcing the door the offender probably used to get to her. Once the body’s out, the vehicle can be uplifted, and we can progress with the scene examination.’

  Alex nodded his agreement and headed back to his team. Cass glanced up to the top of the hill and saw two more crime scene vans parked by hers. She made her way up the bank to brief her team.

  Daylight was just starting to creep through the dark clouds as the fire brigade finally freed the body. Cass worked comfortably with Johnny and Carla, bagging and tagging the hands and feet before moving on to the head. She paused for a moment, the plastic bag in her hand. She had always found that part difficult; placing a bag over someone’s head seemed unnatural and alien to her. It was almost as if by doing this, a small part of her had helped kill the victim; the final dehumanising, irrevocable proof that the victim was indeed dead. It was also, however, the best way to preserve trace evidence. Cass tightened the bag with one last tug and tapped the side of the stretcher, indicating she was done.