Kate smiled. She’d locked horns on a few occasions with Suresh Kailisa, the pathologist based at the Doncaster Royal Infirmary, but they also shared a mutual respect. Or Kate hoped they did. He didn’t like it when she pushed him for answers too quickly and she found his methodical approach frustrating but he was thorough and thoughtful – qualities she admired in somebody who dealt with violent death every day.
‘Y’know, I think I’ll surprise him,’ she said, pressing her foot down on the accelerator.
Floodlights had been erected in the playground of Thorpe Danum Academy by the time Kate pulled into the car park. The afternoon was rapidly becoming a dull November evening, damp and cold with dark, heavy clouds just above the tops of the buildings. She pulled her scarf more tightly round her neck and strode over to the cordon of blue and white tape surrounding a white crime scene tent.
‘Talk to me,’ she said, as Barratt approached, the hood of his overalls tight around his head and face.
‘Body of a male, late fifties, well nourished. Driving licence IDs him as Simon Charlton. Left in a corner of the playground. The killer cut the lock on the gate – probably with a bolt cutter – and somehow got Charlton into this corner. I expect Dan told you about the mutilation?’
Kate nodded. ‘Cause of death?’
‘Exsanguination.’
‘Sorry?’
‘He bled to death – according to Kailisa. There’s blood everywhere.’
‘From having his bits cut off?’
Barratt shook his head and grimaced as he added detail. ‘No. Whoever did this obviously decided that while they were busy in the groin area, they’d cut the femoral arteries as well. When I say “cut”, the wounds look more like gouges.’
‘Who found him?’
‘School caretaker. He opens up every other Saturday afternoon for a local history group. Saw the padlock had been broken and assumed it was kids set on vandalism. Poor bugger got a real shock when he found this. Rang it in just after midday. The body was dumped in the angle of two walls – it’s impossible to see it from the street or the car park despite the pool of blood.’
Barratt pulled down his hood and tried to smooth his hair down but the spiky style he’d recently adopted to cover the fact that he was prematurely balding didn’t want to co-operate and stuck up at odd angles despite his efforts.
‘Has Kailisa established time of death?’ Kate asked, wincing in anticipation of one of the pathologist’s harsh rebukes directed at her via Barratt.
‘Judging by the pooling of the blood and the state of the wounds, he reckons last night, probably after midnight. There are wounds to his back and thighs consistent with a Taser and his trousers and underwear are wet, suggesting he lost control of his bladder. It seems likely that the device was used to subdue him and then his assailant mutilated him while he was still alive. If the electric charge had been high enough, he wouldn’t have been able to put up a fight.’
‘Killed here?’
Barratt nodded. ‘Too much blood for the kill site to have been anywhere else. Kailisa thinks that he would have bled out in thirty to sixty minutes. Probably more like sixty as he’d have been in shock due to having his genitals cut off.’
Kate tried to reconstruct the murder. The scene was only a few yards from the car park – the two were connected by a narrow alley between two high Victorian brick walls which, Kate remembered, separated the original infant and junior schools. How was Charlton persuaded to get out of a car and walk to his death? Unless he was semi-conscious from a Taser assault and had been half carried here. Or he’d been drugged.
‘I’m going to need to see the body,’ she said, looking round for somebody who could provide her with protective overalls.
Barratt frowned and turned to look over his shoulder. ‘With respect, Kate, Steve’s in charge at the minute. I’m not sure he’ll appreciate you taking over.’
Kate felt herself bristle at Barratt’s insubordination and struggled to keep her tone neutral. Barratt was a stickler for rules and if O’Connor was representing Das at the scene then Kate really shouldn’t step on his toes but, if she was back on the Margaret Whitaker case, she couldn’t miss an opportunity to see if there was a connection.
‘Matt,’ she said as calmly as she could manage. Barratt’s face fell and she could tell that he knew he wasn’t going to like what she was going to say. ‘I know O’Connor’s in charge but Das has pulled me back onto the Whitaker case and, given the location of the kill site, I need to know if there’s a connection.’
Barratt glanced over his shoulder again. ‘Hang on.’
He disappeared inside the tent and came back thirty seconds later holding out a plastic bag containing a protective suit.
‘Steve’s waiting for you,’ he said as he handed her the package. Kate struggled into the overalls and then ducked under the cordon tape as Barratt held it up for her. She could smell the blood as soon as she got close to the tent – a coppery smell that reminded her of wet pavements in the summer.
‘DI Fletcher, what a lovely surprise.’ Kailisa turned to smile at her, but Kate could tell from the way that the smile didn’t reach his eyes that he wasn’t pleased to see her. ‘Has DC Barratt not given you enough information or is it just that you don’t trust us to do a good job without your supervision?’
‘Definitely the latter,’ Kate said, with a grin at O’Connor to show she was joking. The DS was standing near the body’s head and turned to peer over Kailisa’s shoulder. He looked almost comical in overalls that were too small for his bulky frame and a surgical mask that covered his lower face.
‘I know it’s the body of a white male, we have an ID from a driving licence, probably killed here sometime last night. Cause of death exsanguination. Oh, and he’s missing his genitals. Anything to add?’
‘Not at the moment,’ O’Connor said, still looking at the body. ‘I’ve got Sam doing a trace on the ID – she’ll let us know when she gets something. Barratt’s organised a door-to-door of the houses around the school.’
‘Do we think there’s a link between this body and that of Margaret Whitaker?’
O’Connor sighed. ‘Hard to say. There’s evidence of Taser use here, which there wasn’t with the woman’s body. Different genders, different ages. The only connection is the school where her husband used to teach.’
‘And the mutilation,’ Kate reminded him. ‘Parts of this body have been cut off and Margaret Whitaker’s body was dismembered.’
‘But, at first glance, the wounds indicate a different blade was used,’ Kailisa interjected. ‘The body in the storage locker was dismembered with a blade consistent with a meat saw and the flesh had been cut with something akin to a scalpel. The edges of this wound and the gouges to the thighs indicate a much bigger, less delicate blade.’
He pointed to the gaping red hole in the man’s groin that Kate had been trying not to look at.
‘The cuts to the femoral arteries suggest somebody with a basic knowledge of human anatomy. The blade has been twisted to ensure that there was no chance of the bleeding being stopped by any form of compression. Tourniquets may have stopped it but, by the time assistance arrived, he’d probably have bled out anyway.’
Kate looked round at the rest of the scene, trying not to breathe in too deeply. Yellow numbered markers were placed at three points at the edge of the dried pool of blood.
‘What’re they?’ she asked O’Connor.
‘Footprints. One approaching, two leaving.’
‘You’re joking? That’s a bit careless. Anything from the tread patterns?’
‘They’re mostly smooth,’ O’Connor said. ‘Some stitching around the edge – possibly leather soles. Expensive – probably men’s size six or seven so quite small. Could suggest a woman.’
‘And hard to trace unless we can find the shoes and match the stitching.’
Kate stepped carefully over to the group of markers. One footprint was clearly pointing towards the body, the others were part
ials, but she could see from the heel shape that they were facing away.
‘So, he or she left the body then came back. Maybe to check whether Charlton was still alive?’
‘Possibly,’ O’Connor agreed. ‘Maybe he wanted to make sure that he’d done the job properly.’
‘Or,’ Kate said, suddenly struck by a grislier interpretation. ‘He–’
A shout from the edge of the playground cut short her explanation.
19
‘Kate! We’ve got something.’ Hollis doubled over just outside the cordon to catch his breath.
‘What is it?’
He shook his head. ‘Just come on.’
Kate scrambled out of her coveralls and followed Hollis through the car park to the first in the row of terraced houses that buffered up against the school.
‘I was following up on the door-to-door. Bloke next door to the school’s been out all day so I gave him a knock just to check that he hadn’t seen anything last night. Turns out he might have something interesting for us.’
Hollis tapped on the door and stood back as it was opened by an elderly man dressed in a faded dark suit holding a wriggling Staffordshire bull terrier puppy.
‘Sshh, Pearl, it’s just the policeman again,’ he said, looking Kate up and down and then staring over her shoulder at Hollis.
Kate stepped forward, her ID extended. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Kate Fletcher. I believe you have something to share with us that might be important.’
‘Jack Williamson,’ the man said, extending his free hand. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to come in?’ He pushed the door open wider and stepped aside while Kate and Hollis pushed past him into a cramped hallway.
‘Straight on,’ Williamson said. ‘Into the kitchen.’
They stood clustered around a small pine table, covered in the remains of breakfast – a dirty plate strewn with toast crusts, a slab of butter still in its wrapper, a jar of jam and a half-empty mug of tea.
‘Tell DI Fletcher what you told me,’ Hollis instructed. Williamson puffed out his chest and smiled faintly, obviously enjoying being the centre of attention.
‘Well, last night Pearl started barking at about half one. I know what time it was because I checked when I put my bedroom light on. She’s normally quiet at night unless she needs to go out, aren’t you, lass?’ He dipped his face to the dog who licked his nose enthusiastically.
‘So, I came down and let her out into the yard for a wee. She ran round, sniffing and then started barking at the wall – the one that’s next to the school playground. She was really agitated. It took me ages to get her back inside and, when I did, she was still whining to go out again. In the end I shut her in the kitchen and went back to bed. When I let her out this morning she was still sniffing up that wall, but she’d stopped barking.’
Kate tried to make sense of the information. It could have been anything. The dog was a puppy – she’d have barked at a cat, a fox, her own shadow if she’d caught it in the wrong light. She looked at Hollis, puzzled by his earlier excitement. The DC gave her an enigmatic smile as if to say wait and see.
‘That’s it? Did you find out what she was barking at?’
Williamson shook his head. ‘I shone the light from my phone around the backyard, but I couldn’t see anything and then, this morning I was in a rush to get out, so I just shouted her back in. There wasn’t anything obvious. It might have been a cat or even kids messing about but nothing in the yard was damaged.’
He looked from Kate to Hollis and back again. ‘I’d forgotten all about it to be honest until I saw all the police cars here when I got back this afternoon. Then this lad knocked on my door and we went out and had a proper look round.’ He nodded to indicate that Hollis was ‘this lad’ and then glanced at the kitchen window fearfully, as though whatever was out there might somehow break in.
‘You didn’t think to ring the police last night?’
‘What for?’ Williamson asked, scornfully. ‘It’s not like they’ve got anything better to do than come out to see if there’s a cat on my wall.’
He was right. There was no evidence of criminal activity at that point, but Kate couldn’t help but wish that something had raised the man’s suspicions. It would have made their job a lot easier.
‘What’s going on, anyway? I asked him,’ another nod towards Hollis. ‘But he’s saying nothing. I thought somebody might have broken into the school but, from the look of the number of cars and vans, I’d say it’s something a lot worse.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,’ Kate said, and Williamson smiled at her.
‘How many times a week do you say that? I suppose it’ll have to do though. It’ll be in the papers next week, I suppose.’ He looked disappointed that he wasn’t going to be privy to the details of the case and Kate wondered if his reference to the papers was a veiled threat to report whatever he’d found to the press.
‘Not that I’ll say owt,’ he continued, as though he’d read her mind. ‘No time for any of them these days. Full of lies and scandal.’
‘If we could just go outside,’ Kate said. ‘I’m interested to see what DC Hollis found.’
‘He didn’t find it,’ Williamson said. ‘It was Pearl.’ He thrust the dog towards her as though offering it for her to cuddle. Kate took a step back. She didn’t mind dogs, but she had no desire to hold the puppy, especially when she felt that Williamson was stalling.
She looked round the kitchen again. There was nothing to suggest that he shared the house with anybody. No feminine touches such as oven gloves or a flowery apron. Kate suspected that the man was lonely and having the two of them in his house might have been the only company he’d had in days. ‘Sir, please.’
His head jerked back and he gave her an offended frown. ‘I was just saying that Pearl’s the hero. Come on then.’ He opened the back door and ushered Kate and Hollis out into a small yard surrounded by high red-brick walls on all three sides, the walls seeming to trap the gloom of late afternoon. A plastic chair and rickety wooden table stood in one corner and, on the other side, a tiny shed occupied the space between the house and the back wall. The boundary between the yard and the school playground was ivy-covered, the plant thick and green even in November. Battens had been screwed to the bricks forming a trellis for the ivy to climb, a job it had done with enthusiasm as stray stalks waved above the height of the wall.
‘Needs cutting back,’ Williamson said, apologetically. ‘A bit high for me though.’
The dog was wriggling in his arms and sniffing the chilly air, her attention drawn to the ivy-covered wall. Hollis took out his phone and switched on the torch function. He walked over to the ivy and pointed the narrow beam to a point near the top of the wall.
‘Here, look.’
Kate stepped closer and had to crane her neck to see where he was pointing. Hollis was at least a head taller than her and obviously had a better view.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m not certain, that’s why I called you over before I got the SOCOs involved. There’s something in the leaves. Come round here.’
He stepped sideways allowing Kate a better angle. He was right. There was something there. Something red and black.
‘Mr Williamson, do you ever feed Pearl bones or raw meat?’ Kate asked, the realisation of what she was looking at making her feel slightly sick.
‘No. She’s still a pup. Bones might choke her, and she likes tinned food.’
Kate nodded. It was possible that what she was seeing had been dropped by a passing crow – they ate carrion – but she wasn’t convinced. The more she tried to make sense of the shape the more certain she was. It tied in with the footprints in the blood. The killer had walked over to this wall and then back to the body. She looked at the dog, still straining to get out of its owner’s arms, and the killer’s intent suddenly became obvious. He must have heard the dog barking in the house and decided to give her an early breakfast.
‘Da
n, get Kailisa and a couple of SOCOs over here.’
He pocketed his phone and pushed past her.
‘Tell them that we might have found Simon Charlton’s missing genitals.’
* * *
It gave me a jolt, seeing him in the flesh. He’d changed a lot in the last thirty years, but I could see it was him – still scrawny and shifty looking. All he needed was a long mac to complete the image. I could tell from his response to my e-mails that he had a deep vein of paranoia just waiting to be tapped and exploited and I was happy to try to take him closer to the edge. I didn’t want to push him over though. Where would be the fun in that? I didn’t want him to run and I certainly didn’t want to cause him to harm himself. I wanted that pleasure.
My idea was almost elegant in its simplicity. Lure him to somewhere out of the way and then Taser him so I could get him into the car. After that… well… I could take my time, be creative. And I’m getting good at that, aren’t I?
When I approached the car park, I could see that his car was in front of mine. Perfect. He’d definitely be watching to see who was coming so he couldn’t miss me. Hopefully he’d check his rear-view mirror to see where I went and, if not, I’d planned to tap on his car window and ask for help.
I must admit I felt a bit stupid pushing a buggy around with a doll in it, but I’d done up the rain cover and I don’t think anybody gave me a second look. It was a great disguise. Who’d suspect anything sinister of a woman and a baby? The pantomime of putting the doll in the car and then wrestling with the buggy was kind of fun. I had no idea how much he saw but it was an award-winning performance and it obviously paid off because he leapt out of his car to help me.
He didn’t see it coming. The first shot caught him at the back of his leg – straight through his jeans. He started to crumple so I guided him towards the car boot and then gave him another shot with the second Taser – close range this time – before I bundled him in.
Reunion: a gripping crime thriller (DI Kate Fletcher Book Book 4) Page 13
