It was game on. He followed her, primed like a boxer in the ring. He walked quickly out from behind the palm tree and placed himself in her path. ‘Woe there! You nearly mowed me down. Are you ok?’ he asked, his voice all concern.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you,’ her eyes were filled with unspilled tears.
‘Oh now, whatever is wrong can be sorted out. No need to cry, sweetheart,’ he took her by the arm and directed her to the doorway. She was unsteady in the high-heeled strappy sandals, swaying slightly as he placed his arm around her.
‘Come on, a bit of fresh air will sort you out.’ She went like a lamb. Meek and gentle. All he had to do was lead her, like an obedient dog.
18
Anna woke with the buzz of hangover. Her mouth was arid and her eyes stung against the dim morning light. It took a few moments for her to realise that she wasn’t in her rented house and she wasn’t alone. Thomas was already up and in the shower. She could hear the drone of the shower water. With relief, she found her clothes were still on. She was in the middle of putting on her shoes when he walked in.
‘I was going to bring you some breakfast.’
‘Thanks, but I should get home,’ She could barely look him in the eye. He probably felt let down. They had both expected to have sex when they left the bar. It was that kind of vibe, but nerve had deserted her almost as soon as they arrived at his apartment. Now though, he looked as though he expected to pick up where they had left off last night.
‘Hey, what’s the hurry?’ He strode towards her with nothing but a towel around his waist, his chest hair still damp from the shower, smelling of fresh pine needles and mint.
‘Aren’t there rules about shagging staff,’ Anna made a flippant attempt to joke away her embarrassment. What seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do in the easy, relaxed haze of a night out, now seemed sordid and pathetic, made worse by the fact he was in the throes of a separation, and she was supposedly still in a relationship of sorts with Jon.
She was saved by his phone buzzing. ‘I have to take this,’ he said. He turned away, giving her a view of his tight ass clad in the still damp white towel, as he answered the mobile. She heard him reply to the caller with an urgency in his voice,
‘Where was she found? Secure the scene, I’m on my way.’
They pulled into the wide driveway of the impressive looking Culloden Hotel. ‘Wow, what is this place?’ Anna asked.
‘It was originally built as an official Palace for the Bishops of Down, no expense spared, but these days it’s a five-star hotel and spa.’
The grey stone building stood proud on the slopes of the Holywood hills, overlooking Belfast Lough and the rugged county Antrim coastline.
‘Nice setting too, acres of secluded gardens and woodland, the perfect spot for a murder.’
Anna knew he was thinking about Esme Wells.
The techs, in their white suits, looked like ghouls emerging from the trees. The previous night’s rainfall had been off the charts and now the ground was slick with mud. The killer’s shoes would carry plenty of mud from the scene but unfortunately footprints would be hard if not impossible to read.
‘Where is she?’ Thomas asked the spotty faced uniformed officer at the entrance. ‘Round the back sir, through the trees.’
They drove the car around the grounds of the hotel property and pulled in. Manus Magee was stood talking to a man in a dark suit. The wind whipped Anna’s hair as she climbed out of the car. She pulled her leather jacket around her, hoping no one would notice she was wearing last night’s clothes. Within a few strides they had reached them, Magee speaking before they had even time to say good morning.
‘Eighteen-year-old female, at her school formal. No one noticed she was missing, and she wasn’t found until a dog walker came across the body this morning,’ he said as they walked towards the back of the gardens. A few SOCO officers were shuffling about in their white paper suits, working the scene.
They crossed the lawn and headed towards the tented area, approaching PC Dodds, the uniform standing guard, ‘Detective Cole and Detective King,’ Thomas said, ‘What have we got?’
‘The site has been secured, Sir, but the man who found her, moved the body. Said he thought she was drunk and asleep. His dog ran all over the scene too.’
‘Right.’ Anna could tell Thomas was seething. ‘McKay will go ape shit and we’re to somehow magically ensure no press,’ he said. A tampered crime scene was not going to help anyone.
‘And there’s something else, Sir,’ Dodds said.
‘What?’ Anna asked.
‘You’ll see,’ he said, he shuffled as if uncomfortable, his eyes watering in the cold morning air.
Anna looked to Thomas and raised her eyebrows.
They made their way down the gravelly path where the white tent had been erected, sheltered from the wind by the copse of trees.
A woman with a protective white suit on strode up to them.
‘This is Dr Margaret McCann, the FMO,’ Thomas turned and said to Anna. ‘What have we got?’
She nodded to Anna, ‘Probable cause of death, head injury, though there is some light bruising on the neck. Once I’ve done the autopsy, I’ll know more. Right now, it’s a preliminary assessment, nothing more. I’ll run the usual blood tests too, but the toxicology results will take time.’
‘How long?’
‘Forty-eight hours at least. It’s looking more complicated than a bashed in head and tox screens. This one’s a bit weirder than normal, you’ll see for yourself what I mean.’
‘Jesus, are they trying to put us off before we go in here?’ Thomas said to Anna.
They reached the tent in a few short strides. Anna could feel the acid of last night’s alcohol slushing round her stomach. She willed herself not to throw up like a rookie. Her palms sweated in response, in an effort to control her hung-over stomach.
They stopped at the tent. ‘Are you ready for this?’ Thomas asked. Anna nodded, biting back a retort, wanting to slam him for thinking she needed to steady herself before entering the tent. She had seen plenty of dead bodies, in all conditions, but she said nothing, taking in a lungful of the early morning November air. There was an uneasy quiet in the tent; techs getting on with the job, all chat murmured in respective tones.
The girl lay on her back, with her head facing away from them. It was clear that her head had been bashed in, the blood coagulating in thick, glistening, dark gobs around her red hair. She was dressed in a long, dark green formal dress, all silk and lace. She wore a corsage bracelet of diamante stones and faded and crushed cream roses on her wrist, the petals already browning at the edges. One strappy sandal was hanging from her pale ankle, while the other was discarded close by. Anna could picture the anticipation of the formal, waiting to be asked by a boy, the choosing of the dress, the getting ready. The night of excitement and fun turned into the most horrific nightmare.
Thomas spoke first, ‘How was she found?’
One of the techs looked up from his position kneeling close to the girl, on the opposite side of Anna and Thomas, ‘Face down. The walker turned her over thinking she was asleep. You need to see this, come round this side,’
Anna and Thomas walked around the body. The first thing that hit Anna was how pretty the girl was, her skin so fresh and clear. Her hair, a crown of burnished copper curls. Then she saw it. The girls’ mouth was stuffed with something. Anna bent over to get a closer look, her gloved hand reaching down. It was a bird; small, brown tail feathers were sticking out of the mouth like a feathered tongue.
‘Christ, is that a bird?’ Thomas asked.
The Tech nodded. ‘Sick bastard, rammed it into her mouth.’
Just then Margaret returned, ‘You’ve seen it then?’
‘Yeah, what do you make of it?’ Anna asked.
‘Until I get her on the table I don’t want to disturb what’s in there too much. I can’t say if the bird was inserted after death, during or before. But
give me a while and I will hopefully have something for you to go on.’
Anna thought of other cases where victims had been mutilated, foreign objects inserted into orifices, usually indicating a regressive necrophilia. There was something so sinister and weird about the bird in the victim’s mouth. The killer was making a point. She was sure Declan would have a theory relating the bird found at Esme’s death site and to this one. What was the killer’s behaviour telling them about his personality? She thought of the eyeless bird left, as if to torment them after Esme’s murder. They were still waiting on the results from the first bird to come back, but in all likelihood, with the eyes removed, it looked like it had been left as a token. A marker of sorts. The cruel hand that had chosen to maim that poor creature and use it as marker for his crime, could be the same one at work here.
There was another case, years ago in Llantwit Major, where a murderer had left a trademark slash on his victim’s chests. She hadn’t worked on that case but she remembered the lessons learned for it. Afterwards they realised that the killer was mutilating the bodies as a warning to others – leaving his trademark V cut into the skin of male prostitutes. It was the trademark that eventually led them to the killer. The V was his sign for victory over the young men who he saw as an aberration of nature. His twisted religious undertones helped the detectives on the case to pinpoint a religious sect set up in the Vale of Glamorgan.
The dead girl’s features were soft and still childlike. A scattering of freckles danced across her now pallid face. Anna could smell the blood, coppery and sickening. Her stomach heaved and she was glad she had eaten nothing for fear it would come back up.
‘No ID yet. Obvious struggle, one of her nails is broken, torn right off, so she fought back. Too early to say whether or not we are looking at the same MO. It is possible. Her dress hasn’t been ripped, and rigor hasn’t set in yet,’ said Dr McCann.
‘Has her bag or phone turned up?’ Thomas asked.
‘Nothing, sir.’ Replied one of the officers.
‘There’s evidence that this was the primary scene, blood on the rock to your left,’ Margaret pointed with her torch towards the rock. The blood stains still evident.
‘Any prints yet?’ Anna asked.
‘No. A few smudged marks, could be gloves. Other finds are a couple of cigarette butts and a beer bottle but they could have been here for some time by the looks of it.’
‘We’ll get them checked out,’ Anna said.
‘Did you say she was found face down?’ Thomas asked.
‘Yeah, the walker turned her over. We haven’t moved her yet,’ the tech said.
‘Make sure we get the walker’s fingerprints, shoe prints, and clothing logged to rule them out of any evidence found,’ Thomas barked at the SOCO.
Anna noted the left arm, flung across her chest. She was slight, delicate even. Blood was congealing on her top lip, along with the blush of a fresh bruise.
‘Too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?’ Anna said quietly to Thomas.
‘It’s possible, they’re separate. Until we get the PM, we can’t assume anything. But we need to act fast,’ he replied with a deep sigh.
Anna nodded. ‘And keep the site secure in case he turns up later with another memento for us, but the bird, it’s too much to be a coincidence. We didn’t go public with the one found at the first scene murder.’
The sight of the girl made Anna feel weak and unsteady. She’d seen plenty of bodies before but the pretty dress, the idea of the prom, the preparation, the fussing over dresses, hair styles and hoping to be asked by the right boy made this seem particularly sad. A videographer was filming the site. A SOCO was setting out white marker cards on the ground, indicating spots of interest where the undergrowth had been disturbed. The air tingled with a nervous energy. A bird squawked as if indignant that they were disturbing its peace.
‘Are you ok?’ Thomas asked.
‘Hangover. I just feel a bit shaky.’
There were plenty of detectives you couldn’t admit feeling off colour to at the scene. They’d hold it against you, and make sure the entire squad knew you couldn’t stomach the job. Anna was sure Thomas wasn’t that type of knobhead.
She willed her stomach to steady, and felt the stirring of the silent rage, a disturbance of any peace she’d hope to claim leaving Wales. But she welcomed it; she needed the white-hot molten lava of anger running through her centre, keeping her lit with an urgency to catch the killer.
There was much to be done. They needed to ensure the entire area was well secured. The press would be clambering all over the place given half a chance. A second body would heighten speculation about the killer and they had to act fast to obtain as much information as they could, to look for connections between the two cases and to make some sort of headway. They would also need more manpower. It was cases like this that made Anna wonder how anything got solved before the HOLMES system. The data and information from each case could be logged and compared. It helped to ensure nothing was missed or overlooked. A batch of new officers – floaters – assigned to help with the case, would have to be briefed and assigned tasks.
‘What’s happened? What’s going on?’ they turned to see a girl, running towards them.
‘Miss, you can’t go down there,’ a uniformed officer was shouting.
She pushed past the cordon; her face flushed as she was grabbed by one of the techs.
‘This is a crime scene. You can’t be here.’
‘Oh my God, it’s Grace, isn’t it? It’s Grace!’ A flutter of birds rose up from the trees, disturbed by her screams, and flitted into the sky. Anna walked up the small hill towards them.
‘It’s ok, I’ll speak to her,’ she said to the officer. ‘Come on, come with me.’ Anna directed the girl away from the tent over towards a low stonewall which wrapped around the lawned gardens of the hotel.
‘Why are you here? Who were you looking for?’
‘Grace, my friend she was meant to stay at my house last night, only she had gone off in a huff. So I thought she had gone home. I’ve tried calling and calling and texting but she hasn’t replied. I phoned her house and her dad said she wasn’t home. I lied to him, told him she’d gone to stay with Hannah instead. She was meant to be with me. Oh my God.’
She was shaking, her voice rising higher. ‘One of my friends saw a post on Twitter about police being all over the Culloden grounds and that a body had been found. I had to come down. Please tell me it isn’t Grace. Look, this is her.’ She thrust her phone at Anna, showing her a photograph of two girls. There was no mistaking the dark green dress and red hair.
‘We have found the body of a young girl but she hasn’t been identified yet.’
The girl sobbed.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Rachel, Rachel Rafferty.’
‘Okay Rachel. I’m going to need to get you home. Do you want to call your parents? Let them know where you are and that we will be in touch?’
She nodded and let Anna lead her to the car. ‘We will get one of the officers will look after you. We will need to talk to you later, is that ok?’
The girl nodded and let herself be handed over to one of the uniforms. ‘Tell the parents we will be in touch soon,’ Anna told the pink-faced sergeant.
In the car on the way back to the station Thomas was quiet.
‘What are you thinking?’ Anna asked.
‘Two murders, both at hotel venues. McKay is going to want something by the time we get back to the station. What did you get out of the friend?’
‘Looks like our victim is the girl she was worried about. She showed me a photograph from her phone. Formal identification won’t happen until later when we contact the family, but it seems the girl is called Grace Dowds. Rachel said they had a falling out last night over a boy and Grace left the formal early, about eleven. She was supposed to stay over at Rachel’s house.’
‘We’ll need to get the boy in and anyone else who was party to t
his fight.’
At the station, the incident room was bustling with activity. The clack of keyboards, the busy hum of conversation, the sound of panic, trying to catch up with the day’s events. There was a feeling of anxiety in the air, a sense of desperation too.
Anna watched Thomas stride into the room. He stood at the front and the noise died down. ‘I want CCTV from every available angle. There’s a garage on the road into Holywood, check out their cameras too, and any local businesses on the road in or out of the town. Get licence recognition on any vehicles in the vicinity as well.’
He looked tired. Anna knew though that the swell of adrenaline would carry them through the next twenty-four hours. They would dig down and find the energy required to propel them on.
‘Come on Tonto, we are heading back to Holywood to talk to the family.’
Thomas automatically took the driving seat. She’d assert her right to drive another time, but for now she was still feeling unwell and welcomed the opportunity to relax back into her passenger seat.
‘What do you know about the family?’ Anna asked as they set off.
‘Father owns a chain of car sale showrooms. Big money people, but nice with it, by all accounts. They are well known – Stephen Dowds had stood for the local council elections last year. He was on an independent ticket, trying to get the new wave of voters too young to be branded by the bigotry of old.’
‘Did he win?’
‘No. When it comes down to it, people here tend to vote along tribal lines. It’ll take another couple of generations for the ingrained hatred to bleed out.’
Anna laughed, she was starting to get the underlying humour. The dark and telling.
Little Bird: a serial killer thriller Page 10
