Then She Was Gone

by Luca Veste

  ‘Just back from the scene?’ DCI Stephens said as he approached. ‘Not spoken to anyone else yet?’

  ‘Was just going to check in with you first, before we go see the parents,’ Murphy said, making it to the door finally. He saw what had made Rossi turn away and quietly accept the non-invitation.

  ‘Sir,’ Murphy said, stopping at the door and waiting for DCI Stephens to make her way behind her desk. ‘Wasn’t expecting you here.’

  Detective Superintendent Gareth Butler didn’t stand up, settling for smoothing out a crease on his immaculate black trousers instead. He was aging well, a hint of silver at his temples, which only served to make him look more distinguished. ‘David. Good to see you,’ DSI Butler said, almost sounding sincere. His accent showed no trace of Liverpudlian, which had set Murphy on edge from the first meeting they’d had years earlier. ‘How is the family?’

  Murphy ignored the comment, knowing DSI Butler cared little for an answer. ‘It’s him,’ Murphy said, making sure they knew from the start. ‘Or, if it’s not, someone has gone to far too much trouble to make us believe it is.’

  ‘Do we know any specifics yet?’

  ‘Just that he’s been found, someone was witnessed leaving the scene, and that we hope he was dead before being cut up.’

  ‘Quite . . .’ DSI Butler said, swallowing and pursing his lips. ‘That bit was true then. I was hoping that wasn’t a confirmed situation. Ghastly.’

  ‘He’s being removed from the scene as we speak,’ Murphy continued, still facing DCI Stephens. ‘Post-mortem will be carried out later today. I’ve made sure of that.’

  ‘Good, good,’ DSI Butler said, Murphy turning to him finally. ‘This will be a very delicate case, David. I think we need to treat it as such. His family are well respected within the community, so any salacious details will need to be cleared through me before being released.’

  ‘I have a feeling there may be one or two of those already. We have already discovered certain things about his personal life we didn’t know before.’

  ‘I trust you have been working with the utmost care and respect for his privacy,’ DSI Butler said, fixing Murphy with an unblinking stare. ‘We don’t want this getting out of hand with the media and the whole thing turning into a circus.’

  Murphy returned the stare. ‘My team will work as they always do. We’ll find whoever has done this and stop them. That’s our job.’

  The two men looked at each other, DSI Butler breaking first and looking over to DCI Stephens.

  ‘I assure you, you’ll have all the resources you require,’ DSI Butler said, leaning forwards in his chair. ‘The MCU has our full support in this matter.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ DCI Stephens replied, propping her elbows up on her desk and steepling her fingers together. ‘I can assure you that we’ll do all we can for the Byrne family.’

  ‘I have already informed them of developments,’ DSI Butler said, leaning back and looking out towards the window. ‘I imagine you’ll want to speak to them yourself, David, which is fine and correct. I would just impress upon you the importance of remembering that this will be a difficult time for them. Please treat them with the respect they deserve.’

  Murphy bit down on his lower lip. ‘Of course, sir,’ he said after a few seconds. ‘Wouldn’t work any other way.’

  DSI Butler continued looking out of the window, nodding his head slowly. Eventually, he turned and faced the room again, standing up from his chair. ‘Excellent. I’m sure we’ll be speaking again soon.’

  Murphy stood and shook DSI Butler’s hand, he waited for DCI Stephens to show the senior officer out then sat back down, gripping the sides of his chair tightly before realising he was squeezing a bit too hard and crossing his arms instead.

  ‘Politics,’ DCI Stephens said, once she’d closed the door and moved back to her side of her desk. ‘Always the bane of my life.’

  ‘Never been interested, boss,’ Murphy replied, stretching his legs out and crossing one ankle over the other. ‘There’s something iffy about the whole thing, though. I hope we’re not going to be hampered. This is going to be a difficult enough case as it is, without being messed about with.’

  ‘Let me deal with that, if or when it happens. Just get on with your work and let me know if you have any difficulties.’

  ‘Will do,’ Murphy said, straightening up and resting his hands on his knees. ‘Anything else before I brief them lot out there?’

  DCI Stephens shook her head, lifting her phone before Murphy had even left the room.

  Murphy crossed the incident room, reaching his desk in a few long strides. Rossi looked up, raising her eyebrows at him.

  ‘Well, what’s the damage?’ Rossi said when Murphy didn’t speak.

  ‘Nothing too bad. Just top brass bullshit. We’re just going to have to brace ourselves for a shit-storm if we don’t clear this up quickly and with little fanfare.’

  ‘Not sure that’s going to be possible given that flat he kept quiet. I’ve made sure the two scenes are now linked. Are we thinking the flat might be the original kill site?’

  ‘Hope so,’ Murphy replied, moving an old file from on top of his desk to a drawer. ‘Would make things easier.’

  ‘Forensics should be back on that soon enough. Might be overworked now, of course. If it’s his blood on the walls and around the room, we at least know where square one was.’

  ‘Can you grab whoever is here and ask them to head for the briefing room. We need to get things moving as quickly as possible.’

  Rossi nodded and was up gathering people within a few seconds. Murphy took out his phone and fired off a quick text to Sarah.

  New case. Body near the Rocket. Will be late in. xx

  He turned back to an emptying incident room. He lifted himself out of his chair and headed to the briefing room.

  ‘Just a quick update,’ Murphy said, when the final person was sitting down. A number of faces looked back at him, not as many as there would be the next morning, he thought. ‘We’ve got several officers already out there, so this is for you lot in here. A missing person has now become a probable murder victim. Victim is tentatively identified as Sam Byrne.’

  He tapped a pen against his thigh as he waited for the whispered voices to die down. ‘He was found at approximately midday, in the boot of a car which was parked near the Rocket, on the corner of Edge Lane and Talbotville Road. Possible witness is downstairs now. Kirkham and Hale can take an official statement from him. He called us, but also opened the car boot up and apparently took pictures of the body inside.’

  ‘Fucking weirdo,’ a voice said from the other side of the room.

  ‘It’s possible he also saw someone leaving the scene, so make sure you get as good a description as possible, lads,’ Murphy said, ignoring the interruption. ‘He gave Laura and me a brief description at the scene, but it wasn’t enough to go on.’

  Murphy waited for Kirkham and Hale to acknowledge his request then he turned to DC Harris. ‘Graham, I need all CCTV pulling from the area. I want the whole route tracked. We need to know where he travelled from before parking the car, what time he arrived at the scene, where he went afterwards, the usual.’

  DC Harris wrote down the info and nodded to himself. ‘Think we’re well covered around that area. Shouldn’t be too difficult.’

  Murphy turned to Rossi, who stepped forwards and spoke. ‘We’ve got uniforms in the area now, doing the door to doors and that. There’s another crime scene being investigated at the moment, as most of you will be aware. We’re waiting for forensic results on that and more info will be given as soon as.’

  Murphy wrapped up the meeting and waited for the room to empty, leaving Rossi and him alone in the briefing room.

  ‘We need more angles on this and fast,’ Murphy said, perching himself on the desk at the front of the room. ‘Have to be ahead of things this time.’

  ‘You mean we’re not doing the usual “question everyone and hope one of them confesse
s”?’

  Murphy returned the smile and silently hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  Fourteen

  Murphy had decided long ago there was no dignity in death. No ‘she went peacefully in her sleep’ or ‘he wouldn’t have felt a thing’ changed the reality of things. It didn’t matter how you went, there was still no dignity once you were gone.

  In the job he did, he had experienced each facet of death, all of them coming down to single factor. Once your body had become just an empty vessel, once life had disappeared, it didn’t matter what was done to it. Dignity wasn’t a high priority. Finding out what had happened was more important.

  Still, looking at the dismembered corpse of Sam Byrne as it lay on a post-mortem gurney, Murphy was rocked a little. He’d seen shocking things in the past, but dismemberment was something which always seemed the worst imaginable. There was no dignity here.

  ‘Clean enough cuts.’ Dr Houghton’s voice boomed through the silence. ‘Almost definitely a mechanical implement.’

  ‘I had money on a circular saw.’

  ‘You’ll probably win that bet,’ Houghton replied. ‘Although I do detest the idea of betting on this sort of thing, David.’

  ‘You don’t like betting on anything to do with death? We won’t include you in the death pool any more then, if you like?’

  ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? I have good money on one of those boyband members being an early casualty.’

  Murphy chuckled softly, ignoring Rossi rolling her eyes beside him. ‘Any idea how he died?’

  ‘Well, given his head is separated from the rest of his body, I’m not ruling out that having something to do with it.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Murphy replied, taking his turn to roll his eyes. ‘Post-mortem dismemberment?’

  ‘Yes, I believe so,’ Houghton replied, moving around the body parts with a speed that belied a man of his size. ‘If you want to take a closer look I can explain better.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ Rossi said, not looking up from her notepad. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  Murphy shook his head, trying not to be too vigorous about it. ‘Looks like he was beaten as well.’

  ‘Tortured, more like,’ Houghton said, measuring yet another mark on the torso. ‘Burn marks, whip marks, bruises, open wounds . . . he will have been in a great deal of pain.’

  ‘Given that flat we found, are we sure it wasn’t welcomed?’

  Murphy turned to Rossi and nodded slightly. ‘Might have a point.’

  ‘He was stabbed a number of times, in the upper chest and legs. No ligature marks around the neck. We’ll have to do further tests, but cause of death is looking likely to be related to the blood loss he will have suffered.’

  Murphy looked at Rossi and motioned towards the door with his head. He turned back to Dr Houghton. ‘Full report by the morning?’

  ‘Ever known me to take my time when it comes to these things?’

  Murphy stared at the doctor with what he hoped was disdain. ‘You want me to answer that honestly?’

  He left before the doctor had chance to reply, pushing through the doors and out into the hospital corridor. The basement always seemed colder to Murphy. Not just in temperature. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the place. The life of the bustling corridors above them invisible.

  ‘What do you reckon then?’

  Murphy turned to the waiting Rossi and tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘We need forensics back on that flat. It’s looking more likely that’s our kill site. The marks on his body would fit with what we found in there.’

  ‘Still doesn’t get us much closer to finding out who did it.’

  ‘I think we’re a long way off that yet,’ Murphy replied, offering a piece of chewing gum to Rossi and taking one for himself. ‘We don’t know enough yet.’

  ‘Are we going to see the parents again?’ Rossi said, taking the gum and placing it in her mouth. ‘I know Butler has taken over in that regard, but we should probably still speak to them.’

  ‘Of course we are,’ Murphy said, beginning to walk away. ‘There’s still a few unanswered questions there.’

  ‘Just a few?’

  Murphy checked his watch as they walked back to the car park. ‘Already getting late. Bloody starving. Wonder if they’ve ordered food back at the station.’

  ‘I hope so. I could eat a dead horse.’

  ‘Probably will be if they’ve ordered from that place on London Road again.’

  Rossi sniggered. ‘Don’t even joke about that. Although the thought of an entire command coming down with dysentery during a murder case is funny.’

  ‘Funny?’

  ‘OK, maybe not ha ha funny. What would happen though?’

  Murphy made it to the outer door, holding it open for Rossi who waited for him to walk through first instead. ‘We’d be replaced faster than you can say “coming out of both ends”.’

  ‘Lovely image.’

  ‘I have a way of painting a picture with words,’ Murphy replied, opening the car. ‘Back to the station, hope to eat, then over to the parents. Plan?’

  ‘Plan.’

  They drove the short journey from the hospital to the station in near silence, contemplating what they had just witnessed. The brown brick building appeared in front of them, the drabness of it sucking the life out of them more than the post-mortem had.

  Murphy didn’t wait for Rossi, who he left swearing in Italian at a vending machine. He climbed the four flights of stairs and pushed his way into the incident room. He ignored the increasing paper mountain on his desk and made his way over to the murder boards at the back of the room.

  An attempt had been made at creating a new board for Sam Byrne, but whoever had done it hadn’t had their heart in it. Murphy wiped some of the unrelated notes away and picked up a marker and began writing.

  ‘Pictures of Sam Byrne here,’ Rossi said, coming up behind Murphy. He was concentrating too hard to be startled, but gave a little motion of his head. She began sticking them to the board with Blu-Tack as he wrote.

  ‘What was the name of the friend Sam’s mum mentioned the other day?’

  Rossi stuck the last picture on the board and then took out her notepad. ‘Simon Jackson. We also had a few first names that Graham was looking into, but I’m not sure what’s happening with them now. He’ll have been on CCTV all afternoon.’

  ‘Make sure someone is on that,’ Murphy began to say, but realised it was futile as Rossi had already gone. He waited for her to finish talking to the closest DC, informing them of their new job. ‘Thank you,’ he said once she’d returned to his side. ‘Simon Jackson shouldn’t be too difficult to find. The others, maybe not so easy. Make sure follow-ups are done on the flat as well, catch up with the people not home earlier on.’

  ‘It’s all moving along very quickly,’ Rossi said, snapping open an energy drink and slugging some back. ‘We’ve gone from a missing case to a murder case in a day. Can’t be a coincidence.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘As soon as we get involved, he turns up dead in the boot of his own car. I think someone got spooked.’

  ‘Depends on when he was killed, I suppose. We were at the flat the same day we were put on the case–’

  ‘Odd that one of his own staff would lead us there,’ Rossi said, interrupting Murphy. ‘Somewhere supposedly secret and she may as well have written the address down for us.’

  ‘True,’ Murphy replied, placing the lid back on the marker and putting it back. ‘We need to speak to Emma Palmer again. We’ll need to interview all of those people helping out on the campaign.’

  ‘That’s a lot of people.’

  Murphy stretched his arms above his head and yawned. ‘I know, but you never can tell who has the right info.’

  ‘That Charlotte will be devastated,’ Rossi said, also yawning. ‘Got me started now.’

  ‘Come on,’ Murphy said, walking away. ‘Let’s go see the parents and see what th
ey have to say.’

  * * *

  Murphy looked at the biscuits on the plate longingly, his stomach making a few noises. He decided against reaching for one, however, thinking it was probably not the best impression to make. Getting crumbs all over the floor of grieving parents was probably best avoided.

  Not that they were showing much grief. Not outwardly, anyway.

  ‘Thank you so much for coming,’ Arthur Byrne said, removing his glasses and cleaning them with the edge of his jumper. ‘Such a ghastly business. We will help in any way we can.’

  Murphy glanced over at Mary Byrne, who was sitting rigid on the same chair she’d sat in on the previous day. Her hands were seemingly glued to her knees, white around the knuckles.

  ‘We’ve notified the correct people,’ Arthur continued, placing his glasses back on. ‘We want to make sure the media treat this with the respect it requires.’

  ‘I assure you we’re going to do all we can to find out what happened to Sam,’ Murphy said, repeating the same thing he always said to those left behind. ‘Is there anything you can think of which might help us in that endeavour?’

  First time he’d used the word ‘endeavour’, though, he thought. That was new.

  ‘I’m afraid we can’t give you anything more than we did yesterday. There’s simply nothing else we can think of which could lead to this.’

  ‘What kind of relationship did you have with Sam,’ Rossi said, leaning forwards which gave Murphy his cue to sit back.

  ‘A good, healthy one,’ Arthur replied, still stoic and resolute. ‘He was our son and we were proud of him.’

  Murphy waited for a falter which didn’t come. The British stiff upper lip was in fine form.

  ‘Did you speak regularly?’

  ‘I spoke to him on a number of occasions recently, just to keep him focussed on the by-election. I wanted to make sure he didn’t let the opportunity slip. However, he was doing so well without my help.’

  ‘How about you, Mary?’ Rossi said, turning to Sam’s mother. ‘Did you speak to him more than your husband?’