Missing Believed Dead

by Chris Longmuir

  When he looked at the black mould on the walls, the heap of unwashed clothes on the floor, and the general disarray of the room, he thought maybe it would have been better if the lights had stayed off.

  He swung his legs out of bed and padded out of the room for a quick shower. Returning, he rummaged among the piles of clothes for clean socks, grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair, and got dressed. He’d long ago given up putting his clothes in the wardrobe because they always came out smelling of damp.

  Satisfied he looked reasonably presentable he went to the kitchen, but in the fridge he found only the usual cheese with its layer of penicillin, an egg that had been there forever, and some curdled milk. It would have to be a bacon buttie from the sandwich shop.

  There had been frost overnight and the car was reluctant to start, but eventually it roared into life and Bill joined the early morning traffic. His first task for today was watching John Doe’s post mortem. Just the thing to start the day off with a bang, he thought, watching someone being sliced and diced.

  The new mortuary sat to the side and rear of Dundee Police Headquarters and was a short walk away from where Bill usually parked his car. He knew by the time he returned to HQ there would be no parking spaces left, so he left his car in its usual place.

  An uneasy silence cloaked the deserted alley leading to the mortuary. It was a tunnel muting everything around it, even the birds were quiet here.

  The clatter of Bill’s footsteps on the stone slabs breaking that silence, seemed unusually loud. Officers rarely traversed this alley unless they had to, not even to use the large car park in front of the mortuary. The nondescript stone building at the end was long and low, with a corrugated roof, and no windows. It reminded Bill of storage sheds rather than the high tech facility it was.

  The roll up door where the bodies were taken in was closed, and the door beside it had a keypad. He pressed a button and a voice said, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Detective Sergeant Murphy.’ The door clicked and he pushed it open.

  ‘Dr Armstrong’s started the autopsy.’ The gangly youth peered at Bill through spectacles perched on the end of his nose, he pushed them upwards but they immediately slipped down again. ‘She said for you to go along.’

  Bill nodded, and the youth disappeared into a side room, leaving Bill to find his own way into the autopsy suite.

  ‘I started without you.’ Rose Armstrong’s voice filtered through the intercom system.

  She snipped a sample of hair and placed it in a small phial which she handed to the second pathologist to seal and label. Bill didn’t recognize him, but that was hardly surprising, considering his body was swathed in a gown that covered his scrubs and the only things showing above the face shield and below the cap, were his eyes. Bill wasn’t even sure whether it was a man. It could easily be a woman.

  ‘I’ll be opening him up in a minute.’ She looked over at Bill through the glass screen. Bill could swear she was smiling because her eyes crinkled at the edges.

  Bill groaned. ‘You know that’s the bit I don’t like.’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s got to be done.’

  ‘What about the beads in his eyes?’

  ‘I’ve got them out and they’re in one of the specimen bags.’

  ‘Think you could photograph them for me?’

  ‘Already done. I’ll get Ralph to courier the photos across to the office.’

  Bill reckoned Ralph must be the gangly youth.

  The door behind Bill opened and closed, and a woman in a smoke grey tailored suit walked into the viewing gallery. Bill looked at her curiously, guessing she must be the new procurator fiscal. He’d been at Steve Mulholland’s retirement do a week ago, and the word then was the new PF was a woman.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Bill Murphy,’ he said holding out his hand.

  ‘Astrid Christensen.’ Her handshake was firm and businesslike. ‘I’m the fiscal.’

  Bill noticed she didn’t say ‘new’, and wasn’t sure whether that meant she was asserting her authority, or whether she was unsure of herself.

  Rose Armstrong looked up from washing the body, and nodded to the newcomer. The washing completed, she selected a dissecting knife from the trolley at her side, and proceeded to carve an incision from neck to groin. Bill had seen enough of her autopsies to know Rose rarely made a V-shaped incision at the top of the trunk, unless there was a suspicion of strangulation.

  Bill’s earlier bacon buttie turned in his stomach, and he regretted eating it. ‘I think I’ll head back to the office,’ he said into the intercom. ‘There are several new developments that need followed up.’

  Rose looked up and her eyes crinkled at the edges again. ‘I’ll send the report over as soon as we’ve finished.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Neither of the women responded. Rose was engrossed in the task at hand, while Astrid watched her with a fascination Bill thought verged on the unhealthy.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kate arrived early, keen to get the team meeting underway, but Jenny Cartwright, the computer buff, was already there, studying a laptop computer that was open in front of her.

  ‘Have you found anything?’ Kate leaned over to look at the screen, although she wasn’t sure what she should be looking for. Computers had never been her strong point.

  ‘Lots of porn, adults and kiddies, really nasty stuff.’ Jenny’s voice was matter of fact. ‘I’ve got a name as well, but it’ll have to be checked out, and I’ve accessed the chat rooms he used. Seems to be chatting up a lot of kids and young folk. Now I’m trying to access his deleted stuff. These guys all think once you’ve deleted something it’s gone for good. Idiots!’

  ‘Good work, Cartwright. Jot the names down and you can feed it into the team meeting.’

  Kate collected a coffee from the machine and carried it into her office. Laying the paper cup on her desk, she sucked her burning fingers and swore softly under her breath, before turning to the filing cabinet to retrieve the file on the murder victim. At least he would no longer be John Doe, he would have a name they could track. The files were so tightly packed the file next to it came out as well, and Kate had a sudden memory of the slovenly woman with the flaming red hair who had accosted her outside Paul Carnegie’s flat the previous day. She frowned, thinking of what Jenny had said about porn. This woman’s daughter, Megan, was fourteen, and it was an uncomfortable thought.

  She walked back out of her office and over to Jenny. ‘Remember I sent you out to see Mrs Fraser about her missing daughter?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jenny said, ‘I took DC Armstrong with me. We checked up on her computer contacts, and I talked to one or two of the boys she’d been chatting with online. But they were schoolmates and they didn’t know where she’d gone. They did mention a couple of places she sometimes goes when she takes off, and I’ve fed the addresses to the local forces to check out. Apparently she’s often run off in the past and it seems to be the same this time. It’s simply a question of finding her.’

  * * * *

  The team were clustered around the whiteboard at the far end of the room when Bill sidled in. He grabbed his chair from behind his desk and plonked it at the back of the group. He hadn’t been sure whether Kate would remember he was attending the post mortem this morning and was ready for her displeasure, but she only looked up and nodded.

  ‘Go on,’ she said to Blair.

  ‘That’s about it, ma’am. We’ve isolated all the CCTV images that are relevant so we can plot out the time frame, but although we get a clear view of the victim there are no clear views of the perpetrator because a hood covers the face.’

  ‘We definitely know the victim was killed between midday and 2pm on Friday.’ Kate picked up a marker and wrote on the board. ‘Rogers, you contacted the Child and Family Support Team, I understand.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I talked to Constable Louise Walker,’ Sue glanced at Bill. ‘She said the boys didn’t see anything apart from the body in the van. They’d been
going through the multi-storey car park checking for unlocked vehicles when they opened the van’s doors. I understand both boys have been referred to a Children’s Hearing.’

  Sue’s mention of Louise felt like a punch to Bill’s stomach, and he tried not to squirm when he felt Kate looking at him. The DI’s eyes were sharp and she hadn’t missed the glance nor Bill’s reaction.

  ‘You wanted to add something, Murphy?’

  ‘No, ma’am.’

  Kate replaced the marker in the groove at the bottom of the whiteboard, then faced the team.

  ‘Cartwright has been examining the laptop found in a cavity in the van’s floor, and I believe we may have a name for the victim.’

  Jenny adjusted her spectacles. ‘The laptop apparently belongs to a John Gregson, although his chat room persona is Kyle.’

  ‘That ties up with what I found out from DVLA,’ Sue cut in. ‘The van is registered to John Gregson, with an address in Manchester.’

  ‘Good work.’ Kate scribbled the name on the board. ‘Tell them what else you found, Cartwright.’

  ‘He frequents a lot of chat rooms and children’s sites, and he’s been chatting to several girls over the past three weeks.’

  ‘Do we have any names?’

  ‘I’d have to check with the ISPs, but the names they were using are Heather123, Clare21, Jade12, Emma452 . . . ’

  ‘There’s a Jade he’s been talking to? That’s too much of a coincidence.’ Bill looked over at Kate wondering if she’d seen the connection, and knew by her expression she had.

  ‘Murphy and I went out yesterday to interview Paul Carnegie, the father of a certain Jade Carnegie who was reported missing five years ago, when she was thirteen. It had been assumed Jade was dead, however certain recent events have thrown doubt on that. Whatever the facts are, there is certainly a connection between the Carnegie family and John Gregson’s murder. Murphy, I believe you were involved, what can you tell us about the rest of the family?’

  Bill stood up and faced the team. What could he tell them about the Carnegies? That Diane was a vulnerable woman who needed protecting? That Emma had been a sullen child and was now a sullen teenager? That Ryan was effeminate and a bit peculiar? However the DI was right, there was a connection between the Carnegie family and the guy who was currently being sliced and diced in the mortuary.

  He closed his eyes, hoping to banish the memory of Diane sitting in his car, twisting the material of her skirt round and round her fingers, and pleading with him to find Jade. He had made Diane a promise but keeping it might break her heart.

  Opening his eyes, he started to speak. ‘The family have changed since I first met them, so it’s difficult to describe them now without knowing what they were like before. Five years ago, we were called in to investigate the disappearance of Jade Carnegie, a thirteen year old schoolgirl. Detective Inspector Michaels, who was still a sergeant at the time, was the investigating officer and I was his partner. We didn’t get anywhere with the investigation and the child seemed to have vanished into thin air.’

  Bill walked to the water cooler and filled a paper cup. Taking a sip, he continued, ‘Jade’s father, Paul Carnegie, was a landscape gardener, her mother, Diane, was a university lecturer in computing. They had two other children, Ryan who was fifteen, and Emma, who was Jade’s twin sister. The family took Jade’s disappearance badly. The father started to drink. The mother fell to pieces and had to receive psychiatric help, Ryan seemed to spend most of his time crying, while Emma lapsed into a catatonic state that lasted for several months.’

  Bill sipped some more water, lost for a moment in his memories of a family falling apart.

  ‘For most of the first year after Jade’s disappearance, her mother turned up regularly at the office demanding to know what we were doing to find her daughter . . . but that gradually tailed off until a few days ago when she contacted us again. Apparently she believed her daughter had returned. This was because she’d received a birthday card signed Jade, but enclosed with the card was a jade bead. That jade bead matches the ones we found pressed into our victim’s eyes.’

  Bill paused and sipped again.

  ‘Mrs Carnegie came to see me and I was surprised to see the change in her. Physically she seems to have shrunk and her personal care has deteriorated. Five years ago she was a smart, intelligent woman. Now she’s working as a cleaner, and seems to be suffering from OCD.’

  Bill noticed one of the team fidgeting on his seat. ‘You wanted to say something, Blair?’

  The constable looked embarrassed. ‘Not sure what OCD is,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Obsessional compulsive disorder,’ Bill suppressed a smile. ‘That’s where the person has a compulsion to do things over and over again. In Mrs Carnegie’s case, it’s a compulsion to clean, so I suppose her current job as a cleaner makes sense.’

  ‘You say Mrs Carnegie thinks Jade has returned,’ Sue interrupted. ‘Do the rest of the family think the same?’

  ‘As far as I’m aware they think their mother is fantasizing. They think her mental health is deteriorating.’

  ‘Do we know what the rest of the family are like now?’

  ‘I’ve met them once, and that was briefly. Emma seems sensible but wasn’t welcoming when I went round to see their mother on Monday. I wasn’t sure about Ryan, he’s twenty but small for his age.’ Bill hesitated. ‘He seemed effeminate, and I thought he had a trace of lipstick on his lips. As for their father, the DI interviewed him yesterday at his flat. He’s separated from the family now, but gave the impression Mrs Carnegie was mentally disturbed and must be imagining it.’

  ‘Thank you, Murphy.’ Kate picked up the marker and added more information to the board. ‘Sue, I want you to follow up the Manchester lead. Talk to the force. They might know this John Gregson.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Murphy, you and I will go out and interview Mrs Carnegie.’ Kate laid down the marker, pulled at the edges of her shirt sleeves and strode off in the direction of her office. ‘I’ll get my jacket and bag.’

  Bill was thoughtful as he picked up his chair and replaced it behind his desk. He’d noticed Kate was now addressing Sue by her first name, while he was still Murphy. He glanced over at Sue, meaning to ask her how she’d managed to weasel her way into the DI’s good books, but she was already busy on the phone. It would have to wait until later.

  ‘You ready, Murphy?’ Kate reappeared at her office door.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Bill buttoned his jacket and accompanied her out of the office.

  The Carnegie home was a ten minute drive from police headquarters, and Bill was soon pulling into the pavement outside the house. The iron gate was stiff, and squealed when he opened it.

  The front door opened, and Diane peered out at them. ‘I heard you coming.’

  Bill turned to pull the gate closed after him.

  ‘Don’t bother closing it,’ Diane said. ‘We never close it because it’s such a pain to open.’

  ‘Oh,’ Bill said, ‘I thought . . . ’

  Diane shrugged. ‘It’s the paper delivery boy, he always closes it. I must remember to tell him not to.’

  Bill and Kate followed Diane into the house.

  He noted she seemed less agitated, and she hadn’t asked if they had found Jade which seemed out of character, and made him wonder what had happened to effect the change.

  Diane gestured towards the sofa, and once they were settled, she said, ‘Can I get you a coffee or tea?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Kate said.

  Bill shook his head.

  Diane sat in an armchair, and at once her fingers started teasing at the piping on the edge of its arm. ‘You’ve found Jade,’ she said, in a matter of fact tone.

  ‘I’m sorry, but no.’ Kate’s voice was gentle.

  ‘Oh!’ The disappointment was evident in Diane’s voice. ‘I was sure that was why you’d come.’

  ‘We wanted to ask you about Jade’s necklace, and the green bead she sent you.�
� Kate shifted in her seat. ‘DS Murphy, perhaps you would like to continue.’

  Bill leaned forward. ‘You remember you showed me a green jade bead? Do you still have it?’

  ‘Of course. Jade sent it to me. I’ll always treasure it.’

  ‘Can we see it, please?’

  Diane reached behind her neck and undid the clasp of her gold chain. ‘I threaded it onto the chain so I wouldn’t lose it,’ she said, handing it over.

  ‘You’re sure this was a bead from Jade’s necklace, it couldn’t be another bead from somewhere else.’

  ‘I’d know that bead anywhere. It’s unique. The necklace was passed down in my family from my great grandmother. She spent time in India when she was first married and brought it back with her. I gave it to Jade on her eleventh birthday. We didn’t have anything to pass on to Emma, so we bought her a coral necklace at the same time.’

  Bill passed the bead to Kate. After looking at it, she said, ‘We’re going to have to take the bead in as evidence. We’ll give you a receipt for it though.’

  Diane stood up, and tried to grab the bead back from Kate. ‘You can’t. It’s Jade’s. She sent it to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said, ‘but we do have to take it.’

  Tears slipped down Diane’s face. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘We’ll look after it, I promise you, and it will be returned when it’s no longer needed for evidence.’

  Bill stood up and grasped Diane’s arms. He led her to the seat and gently pushed her into it.

  ‘It will be all right,’ he said. ‘I’ll make sure you get it back, but we do need to take it for the time being.’ He felt Kate looking at him and he released his hold on Diane and returned to his seat.