by M A Comley
The heartbreaking incident went on for more than ten minutes. In that time, Lorne tried her hardest to distract the children, asking them what they liked to do best with their parents and about places they’d visited. Lorne found it hard at first, not having dealt with children as young as Paul Lee’s daughters were in years, but then Cara made it easy for her to slip back into conversing-with-kids mode as she was a little chatterbox.
“Daddy takes me to the pool on Saturdays. He’s teaching me to swim,” Cara said, a huge smile lighting up her face.
“That’s lovely, sweetie. Are you a good swimmer?”
Cara’s head bobbed eagerly. “Oh yes, with my arm bands on.”
“It’s been ages since I went to the pool. Do you enjoy swimming, Cara?”
“Sometimes! Maybe not so much in the cold weather. In the summer, it’s much betterer.”
“Do all of you go to the pool, or is this little one too young for that just yet?”
“We all go. Mummy sits and watches. She hates the water. It scares her.”
“That’s a shame.” Lorne’s heartstrings tugged mercilessly at the thought of the kids’ enjoyment being disrupted, now that their father was no longer around—yet another blow for Jessica Lee to deal with, unless another member of the family volunteered to step into her husband’s shoes, and keep the children’s swimming lessons going.
Katy appeared at the door to the kitchen. Lorne looked up and noticed her partner’s sad expression. Katy did not usually show such emotion on the job. “It’s time to go, Lorne.”
Lorne rose from her chair, and Cara reached over and grabbed her wrist. “Lady, please don’t go. I don’t want to be here with Mummy on my own.”
Lorne sat down again with a thump and held the little girl’s hand in her own. “I have to go, sweetheart. Mummy will be okay. If you children are good for her, then it will help ease her pain more quickly.”
“Mummy is upset, which makes me upset. I want my daddy. Where’s my daddy?” Cara’s tears cascaded down her plump, flushed cheeks.
Lorne and Katy just stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to do next. Thankfully a brighter-looking Jessica swept into the room to care for her children.
Katy cleared her throat. “Will you be all right, Jessica?”
“We’ll cope, Inspector. I’ve just called my mum. She’ll be over in half an hour.”
“That’s good to hear. Look, here’s my card. If you need my help at all, don’t hesitate to get in touch with me.”
Jessica took the business card from Katy and placed it on the kitchen table. “Thank you. Just promise me that you’ll keep me informed with your investigation and that you’ll find whoever did this.”
“You have our guarantee on that, Jessica.”
Lorne and Katy showed themselves out of the home and walked in silence back to the car. Once inside, they both let out the heaviest of sighs.
Lorne spoke first. “How awful. Why would anyone kill a family man in such a manner? Why?”
“It’s beyond me. According to Jessica, her husband had never had a cross word with anyone in his life. Hey, let’s hold off on speculating too much about the case until Patti gives us the PM report, eh!”
“Yep, agreed. Where to now?”
“On to Paul Lee’s workplace, I guess. Maybe we’ll hear about a different side of the victim from his workmates. Who knows?”
Lorne very much doubted her partner’s statement would hold much truth once they’d visited the company where he worked, but she lived in hope that some clue might surface once they started questioning his colleagues. It sometimes worked out that way.
Chapter Three
The instant Lorne and Katy entered the reception area of the electrical firm, an angry voice emanating from the intercom confronted them. “Send him into the office the second he arrives. Got that, Susan?”
The woman behind the counter smiled uncomfortably at them and left her seat. “Sorry about that. I think he got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. He’s not usually so grumpy. What am I saying? Yes, he is, but usually, his grumpiness generally takes place in private. What can I do for you, ladies?”
Katy and Lorne flashed their warrant cards. Katy introduced them. “DI Katy Foster and DS Lorne Warner. I take it that was the owner of the company we heard then?”
“Yes. That was Derek’s dulcet tone you heard. Again, I can only apologise for him. Police? In connection with what, may I ask?”
“If it’s okay with you, we’d prefer talking to Derek about that. Derek what, by the way?”
“Of course. Derek Wilson—he owns this place. I’ll just check if he has time to see you.”
“Thank you. Tell him to make the time. It’s very important.” Katy winked at the receptionist, who scurried across the room and knocked on her boss’s door. They heard the man bellow, and the receptionist glanced warily over her shoulder at them.
Katy called out, “Tell him it’s urgent and that he’ll want to speak to us. He needs to speak to us.”
The woman opened the door and closed it quietly behind her. Within seconds, she reappeared, looking somewhat flustered. She approached the counter, raised a section of it, and motioned for them to follow her into the office. “He’s usually a pussycat, honest.”
“We’ll bear that in mind,” Katy said with a sigh.
The door opened into an office that looked more like a storeroom, where a small desk was shoved into the corner of a room no larger than eight foot square in total. The receptionist tried to introduce them, but the boss glared at her and shooed her out of the room.
“Ladies, I’d offer you a seat, except there’s no room for any. You wanted to see me? About what?”
“Mr. Wilson, we have some bad news for you,” Katy began before the man interrupted her.
“Ha, go on, make this day even worse than it is already, why don’t you?” He slammed shut a file he was working on and sat back in his chair. “Surprise me?”
“Maybe you’d care to share what’s bugging you first, Mr. Wilson? Perhaps we can help you with that issue.”
“I doubt it. Although, I do suspect one of my vans has gone missing. It would certainly save me a call to the coppers, er… I mean police to report the theft.”
“Interesting. This van wouldn’t happen to be in the hands of one of your men, would it?”
“Yeah, the guy neglected to bring the van back after work last night and hasn’t showed up for his shift this morning, either. That’s why I’m pis… fed up.” His lips strained into a forced smile.
“That employee wouldn’t be Paul Lee, would it?”
The man propelled himself forward in his chair. “Yes. Why? What do you know? He ain’t used my van in a bloody armed robbery or anything like that, has he?”
“No, he hasn’t. Mr. Wilson, it’s with regret I have to inform you that Mr. Lee and your missing van were found in the local Morrison’s car park early this morning.”
“What the f… sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Then let me try and explain to the best of our knowledge. We received a call first thing this morning to say that there was a van with its engine running sitting in a car park. When our guys turned up, they found Paul Lee’s body in the back of the vehicle.”
The colour drained from the man’s face. “Body? Are you telling me Paul is bloody dead?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if the news has come as a shock. The pathologist is carrying out an examination into the cause of death now. We’re going to need to ask you and your staff some questions, Mr. Wilson.”
“Call me Derek. Jesus, I can’t believe it. Paul is usually the life and soul around here. A right prankster, he is. You’ll not find anyone with a bad word to say against him, not round here anyway. You said the engine was running. How come?”
“We’re not a hundred perce
nt sure yet, but it would appear that the scene was set up to possibly look like a suicide.”
“No way! No bloody way would that lad have committed suicide! That theory is beyond belief—well, to me, it is. Jesus, his poor wife. Does she know?”
“Yes, we’ve just come from there. As expected, the news was difficult for her to hear. Are you certain about the suicide aspect? Some people disguise their feelings or money problems well at work, in our experience.”
“Not that bloody well. He loved Jess and the kids. Spent all day talking about how proud he was of them. That’s why he was so popular with the customers, I suppose. He always came across as a proud family man. People seemed to sense that he was trustworthy. He’d never end his own life. He had too much to live for. Only last week, he booked time off to take his young family away in May. Kept saying this would be their first holiday together. How many people would go and do that if they were intending to top themselves, tell me that?”
Katy and Lorne glanced at each other. The man was right. Paul’s behaviour didn’t tally with someone intent on ending their life.
“I agree. That does seem to be out of the ordinary,” Katy said, then she asked, “Would it be all right if we questioned your other employees, just to see if there was anything going on that you weren’t aware of?”
“Go for it. They’ll tell you the same. I’m sure of that,” Derek said emphatically.
“Is there somewhere we can interview the staff perhaps?” Katy surveyed the messy office.
“Not in here. I need to get on with work. End of the month is a nightmare time for paperwork duties. There’s a small canteen across the yard you can use.” He rose from his chair and walked towards the door. “Come, I’ll show you.”
They followed him back through the reception area and out across the yard. The man constantly shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his thinning grey hair as he walked in front of them. “Gather around, gents,” he shouted to a few of his men loading equipment into the back of two vans.
“Boss, we ain’t got time. The customer will be expecting us.”
“Ged, get the fuck in here now. I ain’t messing, boy.”
Lorne heard the young man curse under his breath, then the tools he’d been shifting clattered onto the floor of the van. His insubordination earned him a glare from Derek just before he opened the door into the tiny porta cabin.
“This’ll do,” Katy said.
Ged and his colleague joined them and threw themselves into a couple of chairs. Derek, obviously peeved by the men’s attitudes, flung his arms in the air and marched out of the cabin. “I’ll leave you to share the news with them,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Ged crossed his bulging arms across his puffed-out, erratically pumping chest. “What’s this about, and who are you?”
Katy flashed her warrant card at the two men, who were both in their mid-twenties. “I’m DI Katy Foster, and this is DS Lorne Warner of the Met. First of all, can I say it would be a help if you gave us some slack. Your attitude sucks.”
“Police? Why? What’s going on? Has Old Man Wilson been fiddling the books or buying dodgy electrical wiring?”
“If you stop asking dumb questions long enough, I’ll tell you,” Katy said, adding a tut at the end of her sentence.
“All right, keep your panties on, lady. We’re listening.”
Lorne stifled a chuckle when Katy tutted a second time for the man’s benefit. Over the years, she had encountered her fair share of mouthy pests like him. She knew it was all bravado for his pal’s sake. “Hey, mate. Do us all a favour and listen with your ears and not that big mouth of yours. No one is in trouble. We’re on a fact-finding mission, all right?” Lorne said.
“Yeah, all right. And I said, we’re listening. Come on then,” Ged said, giving them both a tight smile.
Katy continued, “First, I need to give you some bad news. Your colleague Paul Lee is dead. There’s no easier way of putting it, I’m afraid.”
Ged’s arms dropped down to his sides, and his head jerked forward. “He’s what? He can’t be. He was only in here yesterday, larking about. What’s he died of?”
“Shut the fuck up, man, and listen, will ya?” His colleague punched Ged lightly on the top of his arm.
Ged held his arm, snarled at his mate, then muttered, “Sorry. Go on.”
“Okay, at the moment, we’re thinking along the lines of a suicide.”
Ged sat upright in his chair and shook his head. “No frigging way. Not in a month of bloody Sundays would that guy take the easy way out.”
“Suicide, the easy way out?” Katy questioned. “Is that what you think?”
“Figure of speech, lady. Either way, Paul wouldn’t stoop to that.”
Katy folded her arms and leaned against the cabinet behind her. “Well, until the results of the post-mortem come back, that’s all we have to go on. Derek seems to think Paul is a genuine family man. Is he—sorry was he? Some guys just give that impression to their workmates, when deep down, they’re being ripped apart by guilt.”
“Guilt? What did Paul have to feel guilty about? You’re way off the mark with this, lady,” Ged assured them adamantly.
“What the inspector is asking is whether Paul was having some kind of affair behind his wife’s back,” Lorne jumped in quickly.
“That’s insane. No man could love his wife more. I’m telling you, he loved every hair on his wife’s and children’s heads. He’d never kill himself and leave them in the shit. Never.”
“Okay.” Katy smiled at Ged. “I get the point. Then the only other option that we will need to consider is that the crime scene was staged somehow, to look like a suicide. In that case, I need to ask you if someone might have had a grudge of any kind against Paul?”
The two men glanced at each other, looking confused. Then Ged said, “Nope. Not that I can think of. Paul was liked by everyone around here. Never fallen out with anyone, as far as I can remember.”
“What about you? Anything ring a bell with you—sorry, I didn’t get your name?” Katy asked the other man.
“Mo. It’s Morris, but I hate that name. Nope, never seen Paul have even a slight disagreement with anyone around here.”
“Thanks. What about on site somewhere? Pressures of the job, timescales to adhere to can lead to fractious times between the trades on a site, can’t it?”
“Yeah, sometimes, but never with Paul. Everyone got on well with that guy!” Mo insisted.
Lorne shook her head. “Really? Nothing at all?”
“Nope,” Ged said again. “You know that programme on BBC, the Big Build? The little electrician guy on there—what’s his name? Billy, I think. Paul was very much like him, joked around a lot of the time, but excellent at his work.”
“Even pranksters obtain enemies,” Lorne added.
“Nope, there was never any malice in the pranks he pulled. Everyone—and I mean everyone—saw the funny side of his jokes. Man, I can’t believe this. It’s only just sinking in.” Ged buried his head in his hands.
“Are there any other members of staff that we should be talking to?” Katy asked.
“Nope, you’re speaking to the whole workforce,” Ged replied, wiping his face with his calloused hands.
Katy pushed away from the cabinet and shook hands with both men. “Okay, then I think our work is done here, gents. You can get back to work now. Thanks for sparing the time to talk to us and giving us a wonderful character reference for Paul. That will go a long way in helping us with our enquiries.”
“So, what happens now with the case?” Ged asked, his brow wrinkled.
“We’ll carry on searching, asking his close friends and relatives. Maybe they can shed some light on something you guys aren’t aware of. Again, thanks for your help.”
The four of them left the cabin together. Katy and Lorn
e hopped back in the car and exited the car park.
“Where to now?” Lorne asked. “It has to be murder, doesn’t it?”
“I’d rather not jump to that conclusion just yet, Lorne. Let’s see what Patti comes back with first. Shall we drop by and see her? I think we should.”
“Why not? To be honest, I think even if we start questioning Paul’s friends, I can see us coming up with the same result.”
“Me, too, sadly.”
Katy put her foot down on the accelerator and headed for the hospital, where Patti’s mortuary was situated in the lower level.
After dressing in the protective clothing, Lorne and Katy walked down the stark-white hallway towards the examination room, where they knew Patti would be, having just passed her office to find the door ajar and the inside empty.
Lorne knocked on the portal window. Patti looked up from the corpse she was cutting open and beckoned them into her theatre.
“Hello, ladies. You’re just in time. Gather round if you will while I make the Y-section.”
“Crap, Patti. We were hoping you would have finished this by now.” Lorne adjusted the mask around her mouth to lessen the impact of the smell she knew was about to overwhelm her.
Lorne took up the position nearest to the pathologist while Katy kept her distance. “We’re ready. Begin when you like,” Lorne said.
“Thanks, that’s kind of you. Right, I’ll just do this and then show you what I found,” Patti said, her scalpel poised at Paul Lee’s clavicle.
Katy placed a hand over the corpse’s chest. “Wouldn’t it be better to tell us of your findings before you open him up?”
“Perhaps you’re right. Okay.” Patti tilted the body on its side to expose the wound on his head. “We’ve already established at the scene that I believe this is the COD. Well, I can now confirm that to be the case without the added need for a full post on the man. But you’re aware of the law as much as I am that I need to fully back up the proof. This wound is far too deep to not have killed the victim immediately.”
