Sullivan nodded, his disappointment and reluctance writ large across his face. Bliss thanked him and proceeded to the scene. A fair amount of rubbish had accumulated in the nearby undergrowth; discarded wrappers, paper coffee cups, plastic bottles and drink cans. This particular blot on the English countryside never failed to infuriate Bliss, and he made a note to direct a voluntary agency in this direction. Though not quite yet.
He and Chandler both donned the usual forensic paraphernalia before stepping inside the protective covering beneath which the victim lay. There wasn’t much room, and Bliss was immediately grateful for the face mask with its mentholated coating, as the stench of roasted human flesh was rampant inside the confines of the tent. No such luck where his eyes were concerned, however.
Once seen, it could never be unseen.
The use of a vehicle tyre wedged tight around the shoulders had prevented the victim from striking the usual pugilistic pose caused by muscle shrinkage and joints subsequently flexing. Still the sight was as disturbing as any Bliss had encountered during his long career. The blackened, charred mass was more humanoid-like than human, and the presence of the tyre itself told Bliss the full extent of the horror. Scraps of clothing had melted into the scorched flesh, creating a patchwork of ruined features. The hardened layers not yet mottled and black were instead red and glistening, raw and still weeping fats not consumed by flames. The fire had raged long and deep, eating its way down to the bone with a voracious appetite. Whilst little of the face was recognisable as such, the mouth was locked wide, mandible exposed.
‘Poor bastard was alive when this happened,’ Bliss said, his voice breaking.
Chandler nodded and swallowed thickly a couple of times. Her eyes were wide. ‘This is what they call a necklacing, right?’
‘It is. Some pun on the way the tyre is worn around them when it’s set alight.’
‘This is a first for me. Hopefully my last. You know, a bloke I once worked with called the Middle Eastern men who immolate themselves ‘Krispy Karims’ and no matter how ugly the thought, it always got a laugh in the squad room. Don’t think I will ever even so much as smile at it again.’
‘The doughnuts are good, though.’
‘That’s debatable. Oh, and euw.’
‘This is my first necklacing as well. I don’t recall ever reading about it happening in this country before, though I guess it must have at some point.’
Other than the remains of both the body and the tyre, there was nothing much else to see. A significant patch of scorched earth, a slew of scuff marks, but no footprints or discarded items. They left the tent, the fresh air upon his flesh feeling like a minor miracle somehow to Bliss after being trapped beneath canvas with that grotesque, nightmarish vision. He whipped off the mask and spat several times upon the tarmac surface of the road, well away from the crime scene itself. He noticed with wry amusement Chandler on the far side of the road, vomiting onto the grassy verge. Bliss gave her a moment to gather herself and gargle with some water handed to her by one of the Corby crime scene technicians.
‘Can you imagine the terror?’ Chandler said to Bliss when the two were together again. ‘Having that tyre draped over you, the accelerant being poured over it, the first flames, sucking them down into your throat… It doesn’t even bear thinking about.’
‘No, it doesn’t. You have to ask yourself what he did in order for somebody to think he deserved this. I’d be astonished if it doesn’t have something to do with the drug trade. Necklacing was quite popular in South Africa for a while, but it was also something the cartels used to enjoy doing. Before they started using collar bombs, that is.’
‘How do you know so much about the drug cartels?’
The thin smile Bliss gave was humourless. ‘A decade and more working for SOCA and the NCA. We had DEA agents over from Texas at one point, running a seminar. Quite an eye-opener, I can tell you.’
DI Sullivan had been standing with a group of Corby-based colleagues over by an unmarked vehicle. They were deep in conversation, one that seemed both heated and hushed at the same time. Alternating between shaking his head and kicking out at loose pebbles, Sullivan broke away from the gathering and made his way across to Bliss and Chandler. He took his time about it. The way he dragged his heels, Bliss knew they were about to get landed with the investigation after all. He wondered if he should offer one last time to slide the whole scene up the road, but the detective out of Corby didn’t seem like the kind of man who would appreciate the joke. Or any joke, for that matter.
‘Just got word,’ Sullivan said through lips he could scarcely bear to prise apart. ‘It’s all yours. And to be honest with you, you’re welcome to it. I’ll clear my team out and you can have your own CSIs come in.’
Bliss saw all kinds of problems with that. ‘Hold on a moment,’ he said. ‘Your techs have spent a good deal of time working on it already, collecting bags of potential evidence, photographing, videoing, and all that special sorcery they get up to. Why don’t you have them finish up and then ship everything over to our team?’
‘So they get to do the dirty work, we get to foot the bill, and you enjoy the fruits of our labours?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that they’re in the moment, this has been their scene for a few hours so anyone else coming on board will find it difficult to tell what’s what, and all the good stuff will have been collected and shot by now anyway. What I’m suggesting is that they complete their workload, and we’ll pay for everything. It’ll save time, and makes sense if your CSIs are not wanted elsewhere right now. It will provide a better chain of evidence further down the line.’
The DI took a breath. He glanced across at the tent, then back to Bliss. Nodded. ‘That sounds reasonable, Inspector. Will you keep me in the loop, as a courtesy?’
‘Sure. Done deal.’
Bliss had no intention of doing any such thing. His colleague knew the score.
Sullivan nodded in the direction of the buildings across the road. ‘You think the location of the body has anything to do with that place?’
Bliss shrugged. ‘I won’t be ruling it out. At this stage, anything and everything is fair game. Before you go, I’d welcome just a few brief details if you don’t mind. Who discovered the body?’
‘A security patrol for the industrial complex across the road there.’
‘I’ll need to speak with them.’ Bliss had imagined it would have been employees, either on their way in to start their day’s work, or out coming off night shift.
‘I’ll have their details passed over to you, Inspector.’
‘Thanks. And on that score, what time did they come upon the scene?’
‘I believe they logged it as 7am.’
‘And did they mention if the body was more smouldering or still fully alight at that time?’
‘It had virtually extinguished itself, apparently. By the time the fire services reached the scene there was very little for them to do.’
‘Did the security patrol inform you as to their previous round at this location?’
‘They did not. You’re thinking of the time window, aren’t you? I ought to have asked them. Apologies.’
‘No matter.’
It did matter, and Bliss was irritated by the lapse. He did not want to make a big deal of it, though. He started to form a timeline in his head. At this stage it could only be a rough estimate, but it would give him and his team something to focus on before the forensic information started filtering through. The time window was important, though, and Bliss would have to make sure the security patrol were contacted as soon as possible. He could think of nothing else to ask Sullivan. The two men shook hands and the Corby DI gave Bliss a business card with his contact information on it.
‘You think he meant it when he said we were welcome to it?’ Chandler asked, watching the Northants detective huddle together with his CSI team to explain what had been arranged.
‘Would you willingly give up a murder case
, Pen?’
‘No.’
‘Not even one as hideous as this?’
‘Not even.’
Bliss shook his head. ‘Then there’s your answer.’
2
Bliss decided to hang around until DS Bishop and DC Ansari arrived from Thorpe Wood to see things through until the scene was cleared. Corby’s forensics team were still hard at it, and it would be a few hours yet before they were done. They floated in and around the tent like moths confused by a flame. The CSI techs went about their job professionally and mostly in silence. Bishop and Ansari parked up behind Bliss’s car and approached the scene briskly, the DS rubbing his hands together as if eager to get cracking.
‘I wouldn’t look inside that tent if I were you,’ Chandler warned them. ‘Not if you want to sleep tonight.’
Bishop juddered to a halt alongside Chandler. A big man all round, he dwarfed his fellow sergeant as the two stood together. Nodding appreciatively as he let out a long, deep breath, Bishop said, ‘Bad one, huh?’
‘Not a pretty sight,’ Bliss confirmed.
‘Any identification?’
‘If it was on him then, it’s gone now. It’s hard to tell where our victim starts and his clothing and possessions end.’
‘It’s definitely a male victim then, boss?’ Ansari asked. The young DC was one of several local detectives coming through to work on their own patch. It was a move Bliss approved of. The sun shimmered behind her, and he had to squint to see her properly.
‘A very good question,’ he said. ‘Pathologist has yet to arrive, so we’re still waiting for confirmation on that. But I’d say so, yes.’
‘That probably rules out one of our missing persons, then,’ Bishop said, raising his eyebrows. He noted Bliss’s quizzical frown. ‘Given the circumstances, before we left the station I thought I’d check to see if anyone had been reported missing overnight or earlier today.’
‘Good thinking. What did you come up with?’
‘First thing this morning a couple walking their dogs discovered some clothing and a single silver earring right on the riverbank down at Wansford. There was no ID. No sign of a body as yet, and no relevant misper report, but the clothing belonged to a woman and it looks like she may have gone in the water.’
‘And the male?’
Bishop started to reply, then stopped without uttering a word. He sighed, pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and flipped open the cover. He rolled his eyes as he also withdrew a pair of reading glasses from the same pocket and hooked them over his ears.
‘Sorry, boss. I was hoping to avoid all this, but I want to make sure I get the details right.’ He looked down at the notebook to refresh his memory. ‘Ah, yes. RAF logistics expert by the name of Duncan Livingston, based just down the road at Wittering. Failed to turn up for duty this morning and could not be located at his accommodation either. Evidently he was signed off base last night, and did not sign back in. We were notified as per regs of a potential AWOL. That’s all I know.’
Bliss closed his eyes and exhaled heavily through his nose. ‘Damn! The close proximity of the base and the scene makes him look favourite.’
Wittering was no more than five miles away. Wansford was closer, but with the missing airman being male, Bliss was confident about which of the two victims this would prove to be.
‘You don’t exactly sound thrilled at the prospect of identifying our body,’ Chandler said.
‘I’m not happy about it,’ he said. ‘Not if it’s him. I could really do without dealing with the armed forces right now. So many bloody hoops to jump through. You think our mob are over-populated with administrators, wait until you get a load of them.’
Chandler’s features remained doleful. ‘This is going to be a bastard no matter what, boss. If there were any witnesses they’ve yet to come forward. There’s no CCTV anywhere along this road. Best we can do is check out the A1 close to the turnoff and see if that gives anything up, but that’ll be a long haul and probably a waste of time.’
Bliss stared across the road, becoming lost in thought. His gaze was initially aimless, but as it swept along to the right he noticed something out of place. He strode over and stepped off the tarmac into the first layer of undergrowth, pushed back some hedgerow to form a space into which he could step. Peering through the dense foliage he checked out the grey steel fence with razor wire strung along the top at about the eight-foot mark, where it angled back into the property. Whatever went on beyond the perimeter, they certainly wanted to protect it. Intrigued now, his imagination captured, Bliss continued probing. After a couple of minutes he confirmed what he had initially only surmised from across the road, then made a mental note to personally interview the security patrol that DCI Sullivan had earlier dismissed. He grew pensive, rubbing a hand across his forehead, the motion lingering briefly on a tiny scar. Bliss took a few steps back to appraise the wider picture, momentarily snagging his jacket on some gorse. Then, brushing his hands together as he made his way back to his team, Bliss threw a grin into top gear.
‘This complex alongside us has security coming out of its arse,’ he said. ‘So whilst there may not be cameras along the road, there are three of the buggers up on a metal pole just the other side of the fence.’ Bliss indicated the general direction with a thumb hooked back over his shoulder.
‘That’s a good shout, boss,’ Bishop said, nodding approvingly. He leaned forward, trying to spot the cameras Bliss had discovered. ‘But they won’t capture anything through all that greenery over there. I know it’s only early spring, but there’s more than budding on those tree limbs.’
‘That’s what I thought at first. Turns out we were both wrong. There’s a small clearing high up just in that particular spot. I had to push my way through at ground level, but I noticed the overhanging branches are spread wide, and I think we may be lucky enough to have one of those cameras facing out of the compound at just the right angle.’
‘Worth asking. Places like that are bound to demand a warrant, but we should have no problem getting one.’ Bishop turned to Ansari and instructed her to walk down to the entrance, look for some signage and make a note of any contact details relating to whoever owned the place. He also asked the DC to make the appropriate follow-up calls.
Pleased with his discovery, Bliss started ambling back towards his car, indicating to Chandler that she should follow. ‘We’ll get back to HQ,’ he told Bishop. ‘I’ll run a check on the missing RAF employee and see if there’s been any movement on that file. I’ll also bring in the security patrol for a few words. Briefing at five.’
The drive back was easy once they reached the A47. Bliss enjoyed driving and liked to vary his routes, provided they didn’t add too much time to the overall journey. Prior to his return to the serious crime unit at Thorpe Wood the previous autumn – his second posting there – he had spent twelve years away from the city. He wasn’t sure if it was a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, but he was finding the place more appealing this second time around. Bliss understood that his antipathy towards Peterborough had partially been due to his personal circumstances at the time, and in four years he had not fully embraced its charms, nor had he bothered to integrate as fully as he might. The result of his stand-offish attitude to his new home was pretty much a self-fulfilling prophecy – he disliked the city because he had mentally built himself up to dislike the city. Bliss reflected now that he had seen and done so much more in the past six months than he had during the entire period of his first posting, and was beginning to appreciate the area and the many diverse pleasures it had to offer.
Not that this particular drive was one of them. If he had been travelling on his own, music would be blasting out of the surround-sound system. Bliss considered it impolite to do so when he had company, plus he was on the clock so work came first.
‘Initial thoughts, Pen?’ he asked.
Chandler took a breath and let it out in one long, resigned sigh. ‘As I said back there, boss, i
t’ll be a bastard. I see where your head is on the whole drugs-related hit, and I think that’s a likely way forward for us to follow. I know the potential RAF connection makes you anxious, but we don’t even know it’s him yet.’
‘True enough.’ They had reached a long section of curving dual-carriageway, and Bliss put his foot down. He flew past an Audi as if it were going backwards. Speed had never bothered him. In fact, it made him feel alive. It blew away all of his mental cobwebs. He handled the car well and read the road.
‘I thought I’d trawl through missing persons when we get back,’ Chandler continued. ‘Which will be about ten minutes before we even left the way you’re driving. I’ll keep it local, within ten miles, and go back a week to begin with. I’ll also speak with the pathologist and see if she’ll give me some preliminary details once they have the body. By the way, who do you want attending the PM?’
Bliss wrinkled his nose. Post-mortems were not exactly considered a perk of the job. If you were having problems with a junior colleague, it was one way to spoil their day. ‘Anyone on our current shit list, Pen?’
‘Surprisingly, no. I imagine that’s extremely unusual where you are concerned. Ansari could do with the experience, though.’
‘Fair enough. What do you make of her?’
‘Sharp. Confident, too. Anyone looking to take her on will have their hands full.’
‘Any nonsense going on that I need to be aware of?’
Chandler glanced across at him. ‘You mean discrimination? None that I know of, boss.’
‘Good.’
‘Not that I would know for sure. Being the newbie, Gul is still a little tight-lipped. Not when it comes to the job, but certainly regards herself. And to be fair, I think she gets a harder ride from some of the men in her own community at times.’
Bliss grunted. ‘Just one of the reasons we still struggle to pick up good recruits from some minority groups.’
‘Yeah, the other being dodgy coppers. I think she’s doing okay. From what I see and hear, she’s fitting in well and the team seem to respect her.’
If Fear Wins (DI Bliss Book 3) Page 2
