Baby's Got Blue Eyes: Introducing DI Ted Darling

by L M Krier

  Ted and the others ducked through the flaps of the tent where the doctor was clearly finishing up his preliminary findings. They could see that again the body was that of a young woman, once again completely naked. This time the long blonde hair was still in place but Ted reached for several Fisherman's Friends at once and stuffed them into his mouth when he saw that the victim's eyes had been removed, leaving gaping dark orbits where they had been. There was also a yawning cavity in her abdomen and the throat was neatly slashed through.

  The one good thing, the only good thing, about the whole affair was that Ted could see straight away that it was not Rosalie. The body was far too short to be the DCI's daughter.

  'Morning Ted, we must stop meeting like this,' Dr Elliott said in a rare attempt at humour. 'Death certified, took place elsewhere, not here, she's been dead between twenty-four and forty-eight hours. Eyes removed – I hope to God that was done post-mortem – and a thoroughly professional full hysterectomy carried out, though in a somewhat primitive way. Other than that I can't tell you anything more for now.' And with another resounding sneeze, he was on his way.

  'Shit,' Ted said again, somewhat indistinctly through a mouthful of menthol sweets. 'What kind of crazy, sick bastard are we dealing with here?' he said to Sal and Virgil. 'Bad enough another body on our patch, but this one is practically on my doorstep. I want this bastard found, and soon. You two, witness statements from the two lads who found her. I'll get the rest of the team in early, start house to house as soon as we can. This stops now.

  'I'll also get all available officers onto searching the site. We need to find the murder weapon, her clothes, mobile phone, credit cards, anything at all.'

  He turned to go, then added, 'Oh, and if those two scrotes with the dogs are in any way involved in dog fighting, get them charged and throw the book at them. That's more filth I want off this patch.'

  'Yes, sir,' Sal and Virgil said almost in unison. They were as angry as the DI at another violent death and both of them shared his hatred of the dog fighters and their ways. So many pet animals were reported missing regularly, many of them finishing up as bait for the fighting dogs.

  Ted came out of the tent and took out his mobile. SOCO were on site now and starting work. He hoped this crime scene would yield more information than the last one, which had given them literally nothing to go on.

  DS Hallam's number was saved on his phone, along with those of the rest of his team. He pulled up the number and hit call. It was still early so he hoped the DS had his phone switched on and handy. After a couple of rings, he was surprised when a woman's voice answered. He thought it might be diplomatically prudent not to ask if she was Mrs Hallam.

  Instead he said, 'I'm sorry to disturb you so early. This is DI Darling, I need to speak to DS Mike Hallam, please.'

  'I'll get him,' the woman said rather abruptly. There was the sound of the phone being put down noisily, footsteps, raised voices and a door slamming.

  'Hello, sir. Sorry, the wife was nearer the phone than I was,' the DS came on the line, sounding slightly breathless and flustered. Ted dreaded to think what he'd interrupted.

  'Another body, Mike,' Ted told him. 'Similar MO, found on the playing fields behind my house. Sal and Virgil are on it. I want the rest of the team in early. Can you ring round, please, then come in. I'll be on my way shortly.'

  Ted jogged back to the house for his car keys. The lights were on when he got there. Trev must be up. He let himself in and found his partner in the kitchen. As soon as Ted came in, he thrust a steaming mug into his hands. 'Just brewed, drink it before you go.'

  'No time,' Ted said. 'This one's even nastier than the first and it's personal now, dumping it in my backyard like that.'

  'So add cold water and drink it quickly,' Trev told him. 'You're going to need it.'

  In copper company, Ted would drink coffee but his preferred beverage was always green tea with honey. He meekly did as he was told and gulped the steaming liquid in big mouthfuls.

  'I'll be late tonight. Sorry,' he said.

  'Of course you will,' Trev replied. ' I'll cook something that will keep. Give me a bell when you're on your way and I'll warm it up ready.'

  'You're a diamond,' Ted told him as he picked up the car keys. 'Do I tell you that often enough?'

  'No,' Trev laughed. 'Now go. I'll see you this evening some time.'

  So many coppers' marriages hit the rocks when one partner complained about police officers' hours. Trev was completely understanding and supportive.

  The team members were just arriving as Ted got to the station. There was no sign yet of the DS. Ted assumed the ringing round had delayed him somewhat but was surprised he was not in by now. He didn't really want to start briefing the team before Hallam arrived nor did he want to repeat himself, so he told them all to get a coffee while they waited.

  After about ten minutes, he heard the DS come racing up the stairs, then he burst into the room, slightly out of breath. His left hand was clumsily swathed in a gauze bandage and it was clear he was in some degree of pain.

  'So sorry, sir,' he panted. 'Was just filling up a flask of boiling water to leave for the mother-in-law and the stopper wasn't on properly.'

  Ted nodded briefly and launched straight into telling the team what he knew so far, outlining what he wanted from them. Once again they would be starting from the position of no ID, which would make their task even harder.

  When he'd finished, he turned to the DS. 'Mike, have you got a minute, please?' he said, and headed for his office. The DS followed him in, looking decidedly nervous, but this time the DI indicated a chair and invited him to sit down.

  'Are you all right, Mike?' the DI asked, with real concern in his voice. 'You look to be in some pain.'

  'Oh, it's nothing, sir. I'm just clumsy, it's just a scald,' the DS tried to laugh it off.

  'Show me,' the DI said, and it was not a request.

  Hallam looked awkward. 'Honestly, sir, it's not serious.'

  Ted said nothing but his look told Hallam all he needed to know.

  Looking acutely embarrassed, he undid the gauze bandage. Underneath was an enormous fluid-filled blister, reaching from the space between thumb and forefinger down to his wrist. The edges looked red and angry, the skin already starting to stretch tight over it. It looked like a special effect from Alien. Ted fully expected some extra-terrestrial to burst forth from the watery centre at any moment.

  'For God's sake, Mike,' he exclaimed. 'That needs immediate medical attention. I'd say it's second degree.'

  'Really, sir, I can get it looked at later,' Hallam said.

  'DS Hallam,' Ted said formally. 'You're clearly not understanding me. This is not a suggestion. If you don't do something about that it is going to be serious and it is going to cause you a lot of problems and leave me a top man down when I can least afford it. Go to A&E. Go to a drop-in centre. Find a district nurse, if we still have any. But get it done. Get it lanced and properly dressed, or whatever they do to them these days, then come back to work fit for purpose.'

  'Yes, sir,' Hallam said and leapt to his feet.

  'And Mike,' Ted called in a friendlier tone as the DS put a hand on the door handle. 'Next time make sure the stopper is in properly.'

  Chapter Twelve

  'Another one, Ted,' the DCI sighed. 'Bad business. Not what we need. Coffee?' He lifted up the glass jug of the coffee maker and held it aloft.

  'Thanks – I think,' Ted said, trying to lighten the mood. Both men were at a low ebb. Another killing on the patch, with the first still unsolved, didn't please either of them. Ted filled the DCI in on the details while he poured out his evil brew.

  Inevitably, for Jim Baker, at the mention of any young female body found, his first thoughts would always go to his missing daughter. There would initially be that sickening jolt in his stomach at the thought that it might be her. Then when it wasn't, the mixed emotions that ran through him. Sheer relief that it was not, that she may yet be out there some
where, unharmed. Followed by the guilty empathy for the parents of whoever the latest victim would turn out to be.

  'Same killer, do you think?' the DCI asked. 'Same MO?'

  'I hope to hell it is the same person,' Ted said fervently. 'Hate to think we had two such sick buggers operating on the patch at the same time.'

  'Of course once you have an ID you'll look for any connections between the two?'

  'We're already starting to map out any similarities. I also want to know if the fact that she was found so close to my place is just coincidence or if there's some significance to it,' Ted said.

  'A personal grudge against you?' Baker asked. 'Some sort of personal vendetta? Is that a bit far-fetched?'

  'It may be a complete coincidence but it's not something we can overlook at this stage,' Ted replied.

  'Don't forget Wearside Jack was not the real Yorkshire Ripper, Ted. All that taunting of the police was just a different sort of sick bastard,' the DCI said. 'Dumping bodies in your backyard to send you a personal message seems a bit unlikely to me at this stage.'

  'It's just something I don't want to dismiss out of hand, Jim,' Ted told him. 'Given we've got bugger all of anything at this stage, I'm not ruling out any possible lines of enquiry.'

  'Fair enough. What about the Carr girl's ex-boyfriend. Is he definitely out of the frame for her killing?'

  'We've got positive IDs of him in bars and pubs on all of the relevant days,' Ted told him. 'He's well known in the area as a total pisshead. Unless he is a much better actor than he claims to be and unless he was pouring his drink away rather than drinking it, I can't see him being in any fit state to kill her, let alone carry her body across a playing field and down a fairly steep path to the river bank. He doesn't appear to have a car in which to transport bodies, for one thing, nor even a driving licence.'

  'That's the bit that puzzles me the most,' Jim Baker said. 'How can someone carry a body the distance this killer did on two occasions without anyone noticing anything?'

  Ted shrugged. 'I think people are inclined to look the other way rather a lot these days, not wanting to get involved. Sal and Virgil will be back in soon. They've been asking around, to see if anyone did see or hear anything. Trouble is, if it's a hang-out for dog fighters and the like, I doubt anyone is going to say anything, even if they saw the whole thing.'

  'Nice neighbourhood you live in, Ted. Can we get the dog fighters off the streets at least, if we can't get the killer yet?'

  'Already on it,' Ted told him. 'I had a word with Uniform when I got back, they're going to pay those lads a visit, have a closer look at their dogs. With any luck they're a banned breed, that will do for starters. Shame for the dogs but maybe we can find a magistrate with the balls to send them down for six months, that would send a clear message.'

  Ted stood up. 'Right, another briefing to sort and it's time to up our game. Don't worry, we'll get the bastard.'

  'See that you do,' the DCI told him, although he had faith in Ted. He'd never yet let him down.

  DS Hallam was back in already, his hand looking properly dressed. Ted guessed he'd been to the nearby drop-in centre and got lucky with no queue to speak of. Sal and Virgil were still out, hopefully finding someone who had seen something and was prepared to talk about it.

  'Mike, I'll leave you to brief and deploy again. I want to talk to Professor Gillingham about prioritising the post-mortem on this one.'

  Although he knew everyone in the office called the pathologist Hard G as he did, Ted would never dream of using the nickname in the work setting.

  'I just wanted to say that we're going to be in for some long and difficult days on this one until we get a result, so it would be good if we all got together after work today at The Grapes for a bit of a social. On me, of course.'

  His team members looked pleased and chorused a 'Thank you, boss.' Only DS Hallam looked ill at ease.

  'Sir, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to give it a miss,' he said uncomfortably. 'The mother-in-law has an appointment this evening and I have to take her. The wife can't lift her in and out of the car herself.'

  'No worries, Mike, next time. Despite what the team may tell you, I do open my wallet more than once a year,' Ted smiled. 'Give my best to your missus and don't forget, if ever there's anything I can do … And take care of that hand when you're lifting.'

  He headed for his own small office and put the kettle on. He was in urgent need of green tea and honey to take away the taste and repair the potential damage of the DCI's filthy brew, and to steel himself to talk to the odious Professor, with his smarmy line in chat.

  Ted's call to Hard G's mobile phone number was answered on the first ring.

  'Ted, my dear boy, great minds, and all that!' Even at a distance the smooth tone made Ted wince. 'I was just about to call you. I've heard about your latest special delivery. You certainly like to keep my team on their toes.'

  'Morning Roger,' Ted replied. 'I was going to ask you for a time-frame on getting us some results on this one. We're up against it, as you can imagine, with this second one before we've got very far on the first. So anything you can let me have, the earlier the better, I would be most grateful.'

  'Oh, how priceless, Ted. If you throw yourself on my mercy, I shall claim a forfeit,' Hard G said, leaving Ted wanting to throw up. 'What are we today, Wednesday? I'll clear my decks and do the PM for you myself tomorrow morning, but in exchange, you and the delicious Trev must promise to come and play badminton on Saturday with me and the blonde job. I'll book a court at the club. Maybe a drink or a meal there afterwards, if you like?'

  Hard G always referred to his current other half as 'the blonde job', as they invariably were blonde and it saved him from having to remember their names.

  Not for the first time, Ted counted his blessings for having an understanding partner. Trev would not be thrilled if he agreed but he would do it, in the same way he did whatever was necessary to support Ted in his work role.

  'You have a deal, Roger,' he said. 'What time do you want me tomorrow morning?'

  'I'll make an early start on the gruesome bits, spare you that. Come in about eleven while I finish up then I can give you my findings to date. It's certainly another interesting one,' Hard G said. 'Oh, and Ted? Bring plenty of your little sweeties with you, you might need them.'

  As instructed, Ted sent Trev a quick text as he was leaving The Grapes following the after-work socialising, so that when he came wearily into the house, Trev was in the kitchen, the table was laid and food was appearing on plates. The radio was on low, and there was an Elton John track playing.

  'I need therapy every time I listen to this track,' Trev said by way of greeting.

  Ted sank gratefully into his seat, with only just enough energy left to slip off his jacket and hang it on the back of his chair. Cats immediately started to weave themselves in and out of his legs in greeting, vying for attention. He reached out an absent-minded hand to stroke backs, and to gently pull erect tails. He raised his eyebrows at Trev in query.

  'This track,' he explained. 'Blue Eyes. Hard G was playing it when he insisted on getting me up on the dance floor for a bum fondle and to rub his surprisingly impressive hard on against me. Not my favourite track ever since.'

  'You're not going to be best pleased with me,' Ted said. 'I've agreed we'll play badminton with Hard G and his latest blonde job on Saturday, with a meal afterwards. It was a bribe, in exchange for which I get the post-mortem on the latest victim rushed through and he'll do it himself.'

  Trev put a plate of food in front of him and dropped a kiss on his head in passing. 'Sounds like a fair deal to me. And it means that you are going to have to work very, very hard to get back into my good books.'

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ted wasn't sure which he was looking forward to least, sitting in on a post-mortem examination, or spending time in close proximity to Hard G. Ted didn't consider himself a prude, but any time passed in the Professor's company, with his endless, smutty in
nuendos, rapidly turned him into one.

  He found a space in the hospital car park, used his official card to avoid the exorbitant parking charges and went off in search of the Professor, already starting on the Fisherman's Friends at the mere thought.

  'Ah, Ted, dear boy, come in, this is an utterly fascinating case,' Hard G greeted him as soon as he arrived. 'She's young, poor cow, I'd give her nineteen at best. She's also probably been living quite rough. Malnourished, I would say, signs of a fondness for coke and I don't mean the drinking sort. Not averse to sticking needles in herself either, though not heavy use of those.'

  Ted was munching menthol as fast as he could, steeling himself to look at the ruined body of a young woman, another life gone to waste.

  'As with the last one, a single clean cut to the throat with a very sharp, thin blade, something very like a surgical scalpel, and again a left-handed cut. As young James said of the last one, I think, signs of recent sexual activity, “definitely rough but probably still consensual”, as there are no signs of physical restraint. Though I can't, of course, rule out substances like Rohypnol as a restraint.

  'As Dr Elliott said in his initial findings, she had been dead up to forty-eight hours, so there would be no trace left in the blood stream. I'm running a full tox screen just to be sure, though. Oh, and when I say recent sexual activity, she was soundly buggered. And not to put too fine a point on it, either your chap was hung like a donkey or he'd bought himself one of those, who do you call them, a strap-on dong?'

  Ted tried to repress a shudder of disgust. He found Hard G's turn of phrase difficult to stomach at the best of times. In the presence of a young woman who had been brutally murdered, he found it distasteful in the extreme.

  'Of course, talking of strap-ons, that does just raise the possibility that your killer is a woman who uses one,' the Professor leered with evident enjoyment. 'Now, onto the eyes, or lack thereof. Removed post-mortem, thankfully, for that much we can be grateful.'