by Helen Phifer
‘Control, I need that ambulance now. There’s a teenage girl unconscious, breathing very shallow; she’s lost a lot of blood and has a serious head injury.’
Morgan’s breath was coming fast. Shit, should she put her in the recovery position? She decided against it. Unzipping her body armour then the black fleece jacket she was wearing, she shrugged it off and used it to cover the girl as best as she could. It was so cold down here, she could see a cloud of white vapour every time she exhaled. It was a wonder the girl hadn’t died of shock and hypothermia. She noticed another piece of the white fabric on the floor next to this girl. She must have moved enough for it to have slid off.
‘It’s okay, honey, I’m a police officer. Help is on the way. We’ll get you to the hospital. Just hang on.’
Another faint moan spurred Morgan on; she had to save this girl.
Morgan stared at the other girl lying behind this one. Her face was covered in a piece of the same white material stained with dark, congealed blood. She didn’t need to lift the cloth to see that the right side of her face was all caved in: she could tell by the flattened shape the cloth was sticking to. There was so much blood pooled on the floor around the bodies. She stared at the thick, dark clots that had formed. She felt as if she was knee-deep in it. She breathed deeply through her mouth so she wouldn’t inhale the strong odour. If she passed out, she would be letting the girl down, but the room was starting to go a little fuzzy around the edges. What if the killer came back? She was here on her own. God knows how long it would take other patrols to arrive. The smell was cloying, sickly and unbearable. Her stomach was doing some weird thing and the back of her mouth was filling with water. God, she’d better not puke. She focused on her breathing, slowing it down in time to the motion of stroking the uninjured side of the girl’s head. She took hold of her hand, unsure if she was helping or making things worse, but knowing that if their places were reversed and she was close to death, that she would want someone to be there for her, giving her some comfort in her final moments.
Her brain could barely process what these poor girls had been through. Who would do something like this, and why?
Ten
Ben reached the roundabout at junction twenty-six, about to take the turn-off for the M6 Southbound, when Amy slapped his arm and shouted.
‘Shit, boss. You need to go back, don’t take the slip road.’
He swerved and carried on back towards the Kendal exit, a symphony of horns blaring behind them.
‘Jesus, what the hell’s the matter with you?’
Detective Constable Amy Smith had been parking up as he left the station and had the misfortune of running into him while getting out of her car. Ben had asked her to accompany him to the mortuary. She’d shrugged and got into his.
‘They’ve found bodies at the house.’
‘What house? You need to give me more than that. I didn’t swallow my psychic pills this morning.’
‘The suicide from yesterday.’
‘Turn the radio up, I can’t hear.’
‘See, this is why you should pay more attention.’
He glared at her and she grinned.
He listened to the panicked voices as officers shouted up and the control room operator gave orders out.
‘Can you ring Morgan? I sent her there on her own; I need to know she’s okay.’
‘Who’s Morgan, what’s her number? I haven’t had my psychic pills today either, boss.’
‘Crap, I don’t know her collar number. She was the one who found Olivia Potter yesterday. Bloody hell, they went in and searched the house. How the hell did they miss three dead bodies?’
‘No one is perfect. Hang on, the bodies are in the cellar, ooh, one’s still breathing.’
He stole a glance at her to see if she was being sarcastic, but she was just giving him a running commentary.
‘Who, who is still breathing?’
‘I think it’s a girl, I missed the start of that part.’
He reached out and took the radio from her. ‘This is DS Matthews to the officer at scene.’
‘Go ahead, Sarge.’
‘Are you okay, Morgan?’
‘Yes.’
‘What have you got?’
‘Adult male with a serious head injury; teenage female with a head injury: both appear to be dead; sorry, foxtrot. Paramedics are on the way. One teenage female with serious head injuries, breathing, unconscious. I’m sorry, they were in a cellar that must have been mistaken for the garage. It was bolted from the outside.’
Her voice almost broke on the last sentence and he felt bad for her, bad that she’d gone in there alone to discover this. Bad that she was going to blame herself for not finding them yesterday, and he wondered where this sudden influx of empathy had come from. He’d spent the last three years being a miserable, tetchy git who didn’t really give a shit about anyone, and now this.
‘I’m on my way.’
Amy looked over at him and arched an eyebrow.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Then why are you looking at me like that?’
‘“I’m on my way.”’
‘I am on my way.’
She nodded. ‘Yep, you are. Super cop Matthews to the rescue.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’
She turned and stared out of the window; they drove in silence until she finally broke it.
‘Do you like her then? You know, as your colleague I need to know this stuff. It’s part of my job description to keep the boss on the straight and narrow.’
‘Jesus, Amy, I only met her yesterday. She had a crap first day on independent patrol, then at Mitch’s leaving do that idiot Dan made fun of her in front of everyone in the pub. Now this. I think she deserves a little bit of compassion.’
She leant across and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. ‘Just checking you’re not coming down with something. And I’m shutting up right now.’
She smiled at him and began to look at her hand-held device to see what the latest updates were on the log they were heading to. Ben knew she was only joking and he didn’t mind, but he was questioning himself. Did his team really think he was a bastard who didn’t care about anyone? Why else would she be so shocked at him being nice? Maybe it was time to shake things up a bit. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. His hair was in desperate need of a cut; he had a beard that was more homeless-guy-who-doesn’t-have-a-mirror than trendy. As for the double chins, he cringed. Christ, he’d really let himself go. Cindy would be horrified to see him looking like this. Time to get his act together.
‘I still can’t believe the whole family are dead. Who would do something like this? It’s horrific.’
‘Not the whole family, didn’t she say one was still breathing?’
‘Yeah, but if she’s been left for dead it doesn’t sound too good.’
He put his foot down and began to drive as fast as he could without sirens. He needed to get there and see the carnage for himself.
By the time he arrived there were already two ambulances and a first responder vehicle parked up, two police vans, and an unmarked car. He motioned to Amy they should get kitted up. He didn’t want the scene getting contaminated any more than it already had been. Two paramedics came out of the house with the unconscious girl on a stretcher. They loaded her into the back of the van and began working on her. He saw Morgan follow them out of the front door. She was pale, her bright yellow body armour was stained red and for want of a better way to describe it, she looked completely shell-shocked. He saw Dan trying to speak to Morgan, but she didn’t acknowledge him or even look at him; in fact, she looked as if she was about to pass out.
Amy nudged him. ‘Your new bestie needs a hand before she hits the deck.’
Ben could see that, but he didn’t exactly want to be the one to rush to her rescue because he’d never live it down. Yet, he couldn’t stand there and watch it happen. He pushed A
my towards her.
‘Go grab her arm, bring her to the car and get her in the back seat. We can pretend we’re interviewing her, give her five minutes.’
Amy was already walking in her direction.
‘Hi, Morgan. I’m Amy, one of the DCs. DS Matthews would like a word with you. We need to get the details of what’s happened.’
Not waiting for a reply, she grabbed Morgan’s elbow and guided her in the direction of the car, where Ben was zipping up the pale blue paper suit. He opened the back door and watched as Amy expertly got her inside without making a scene.
Amy turned to him. ‘You owe me one.’
He nodded. Then turned to look at Morgan. ‘How are you doing?’
She stared at the back of the ambulance. The doors were open and they could clearly see the two paramedics working hard to stabilise the girl so they could drive to the hospital.
‘I think it’s Bronte, she looked older. I didn’t know she was there. I let her down; she was still alive and I could have found her yesterday.’
‘You did find her though. If it wasn’t for you insisting something wasn’t right, we all wouldn’t be here right now. She wouldn’t be in with a chance of survival.’
Her head moved in slow motion, up and down.
‘I need you to focus, Morgan. I need to know exactly what happened. Have the paramedics confirmed death of the other victims?’
‘Yes. They did a quick assessment, said if you want them to run a heart strip they will. But it’s quite clear they’ve been dead a while.’
‘No, I don’t need them to do that. What about you, did you think they were dead?’
‘You told me off yesterday for making that assumption.’
‘I know I did, disregard that. I was trying to give you good advice; this is a desperate situation. What was your first impression?’
‘That they were all dead, then I realised one of the girls was still breathing. I got scared. I didn’t know if the killer was still in there or if…’
He nodded, encouraging her to continue.
‘Maybe it was Olivia? She might have killed them all then killed herself.’
‘We don’t know anything yet, but it’s a possibility. Thank you, Morgan. Stay here for a little while. When you’re ready you can go out and face the others.’
She looked up at him. ‘I’m okay. I don’t need to take time out. There’s a door in the kitchen, it leads down into the cellar. That’s where they are. Can I go to the hospital with Bronte?’
Morgan was already out of the car and on her way to the open ambulance.
‘Of course, it’s all hands on deck back there. You might be able to help out.’
He’d slipped on two pairs of blue nitrile gloves while they’d been talking and some shoe covers. Amy was dressed the same. He looked at her and she gave him a thumbs up. It was time to meet the rest of the Potter family.
He just wished it was under better circumstances than this.
Eleven
Over the years he’d been in the police, Ben had attended some pretty tragic crime scenes. The worst had been a house fire where two children had died. Thankfully the smoke had got them and when he’d pushed his way in – despite being told not to by his superior – and found them, they had looked as if they were asleep. He’d been to some terrible accidents, a fair few murders and suicides, but this, however, was by far the most horrific. He went down the wooden steps first, Amy following behind.
Standing at the bottom step, Ben took in the scene in front of him. On first observation it looked like any old cellar, apart from the strong odour of blood and decomposition, and then when his eyes fell onto the bodies in one corner it was hard to believe what he was seeing. It looked like someone had discarded a pile of clothes there, until he realised the clothes had body parts attached to them and stained cloths covering their faces. Immediately he thought that whoever had done this knew the victims, their guilt causing them to cover their eyes so they weren’t looking at them. Judging by the pools of blood on the floor they had been killed down here.
He shone his torch at the walls and ceiling, sucking in a deep breath. There was blood spatter everywhere. Whoever did this must have been covered in blood. He took his time scanning the rest of the cellar, but there was no obvious sign of a murder weapon.
‘Bollocks.’
He heard Amy whisper the word behind him and he had to agree it was definitely bollocks. He crossed towards the two remaining bodies. There were discarded packets where the paramedics had ripped open necessary medical equipment to save the girl, which meant this crime scene had been contaminated, but for the greater good; preserving life took priority over anything else. Although he wasn’t sure, judging by the head injuries inflicted on the remaining members of her family, whether she was going to thank them for it. There was a good chance she’d have sustained some serious brain damage, not to mention losing her entire family in one go. If she came around, would she rather they’d left her to die? He shook himself out of it, not going any further.
‘We need this documenting by CSI before anything else gets disturbed. What the hell happened down here?’
Amy didn’t answer, which was unusual. He turned to look at her. Eyes wide and taking deep breaths through her mouth – this wasn’t like her; she was usually as tough as he was. It only reaffirmed to him just how bad this crime scene was. He pointed to the stairs and shoved her gently in that direction. She turned and didn’t pause, mounting them a lot faster than she’d come down. He followed suit, and the pair of them exited the house into the fresh air. Although the smell in the cellar wasn’t as bad as it could have been, it was enough to have permeated his nostrils and it lingered in the back of his throat.
The ambulance was gone, he saw, along with Morgan. That was good; at least she was out of here for the time being. He’d need to get a full statement from her later. The CSI van was now parking in the space the ambulance had vacated, and behind that was the DCI’s battered Land Rover. Tom lived on a remote farm with his wife, Christine, and never went anywhere without his trusty steed as he called it. He watched as Tom waved him over and he opened the door, climbing into the passenger seat.
‘What have we got?’
‘A pretty big mess, sir. Two bodies in the cellar, both with their heads staved in, and pieces of cloth over their faces. Another victim has been taken to the RLI by ambulance.’
‘Shit. Is there a reason we didn’t find them yesterday? Wasn’t the house searched?’
‘Yes, it was. There are no signs of anything untoward happening in the house; it’s clean. The cellar door was bolted from the outside and, to be fair, it looks as if it’s the adjoining garage door. The garage was checked from the outside; rookie but very easy mistake to make.’
He nodded. ‘But there’s one still alive; if we’d have found them yesterday…’
He didn’t finish his sentence; he didn’t need to. Ben was painfully aware of the consequences of such a mistake.
‘It’s done, it is what it is. We need to focus on the scene now.’
‘Anything unusual I should be aware of?’
‘Well apart from an entire family turning up dead and their faces being covered, not really. According to the pathologist, Olivia’s hanging is looking suspicious, so I did consider whether the father may have murdered his family. Perhaps he hanged Olivia, then took his daughters into the cellar and killed them and himself.’
‘Only that story doesn’t add up. How did he cover his own face and lock the cellar door?’
‘True, sir, maybe Olivia killed them and couldn’t take the guilt so took a couple of attempts to hang herself?’
Tom nodded. ‘That seems more feasible, unusual but not entirely unheard of. Who found the bodies?’
‘The officer I was going to offer the attachment to.’
‘Seems like a good shout. There’s nothing like being thrown in at the deep end to learn how to swim. Do you think she’ll be interested after this?’
&n
bsp; ‘Hard to say, but quite possibly. I get a feeling she’d like to see this through to the end.’
They both got out of the Land Rover. Wendy, the duty CSI, was gathering the equipment she needed from the back of the van. Hoisting her camera case over her shoulder and picking up the heavy bag she needed, she set off towards the house. Ben followed.
‘Do you know where you’re going?’
‘Cellar, I hate cellars. They’re always full of creepy shit, not to mention creepy crawlies.’
He smiled; for a tough crime scene investigator whose job involved bodies that were crawling with insects, she really had a dislike of them. It made him feel better, though, when she was trying her best not to puke into her face mask while he was doing the same behind her.
‘You’re safe, no insects that I could see. Not sure about close up though. I didn’t go too near. But they weren’t covered in flies, which is always a good sign, although there could be lots of spiders.’
She turned and looked at him. ‘Thanks.’
He shrugged. Took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts to the name ‘Dr Death’. Declan answered on the second ring. Ben heard his voice vibrate and knew he was on loudspeaker.
‘Did you get the message?’
‘I did, I’m on my way. Is it as bad as it sounds?’
‘Yeah, probably a lot worse. Paramedics have called it; CSI is in here now. You should be good to go when you get here.’
‘Cheers, pal, glad you send the good stuff my way.’
The line went dead and he smiled, knowing that Declan loved it and was a fantastic pathologist.
