by Sally Rigby
Beneath her white coverall, there peeped out some purple trousers, and in her ears swung a pair of pink elephant earrings.
Claire was well known for her dislike of early call-outs, but this wasn’t too bad.
‘It could’ve been worse. You could have been called out ages ago. You were on duty, weren’t you?’
‘Well, yes, I’m on duty, obviously. That’s why I’m here. What a ridiculous question to ask. All I’m saying is on a Sunday morning I don’t need to be faced with five deaths to investigate. Any day, for that matter.’
Whitney swallowed hard. Five. It was her worst nightmare come true, and she was dreading the fallout once the media got hold of the story.
‘May we step closer to take a look?’
‘Three steps only. And I don’t mean whacking big strides. I don’t want this place contaminated,’ Claire said.
‘At my height, big strides are impossible. And I do know the protocol for these things. I’ve been in the job long enough.’
She took the three steps, with Brian following her, and surveyed the scene.
Five bodies, a man and woman who appeared to be in their forties, and three children, two boys and a girl, who all looked to be in their early to mid-teens. They were seated around a rectangular dining table, with six chairs, only one of them vacant. The table was covered in a white tablecloth, and on top were plates, each with an untouched meal of lamb shanks in front of them. Two shanks standing upright and crossed. She was too far away to see what else was on the plate. A full glass of red wine in front of each one, including the children. The victims were all upright in their chairs, tied by rope, with their heads lolling to the side.
‘What on earth … any idea as to cause of death? I don’t see any blood.’
‘Seriously, Whitney? You expect me to tell you before I’ve done a full investigation back at the morgue? You’ve only just told me you’re familiar with protocols and here you are asking for a guess.’
‘You might have an idea off the record. And it’s not like we haven’t discussed these things in the past.’
‘That was before the latest remit from on high. There have been some serious leaks regarding causes of death at various forces around the country and we’ve been given strict instructions to keep our thoughts to ourselves.’
‘Including to me? You know I’m not going to leak to anyone, and neither would any of my team.’
‘It wasn’t from Lenchester. These things happened in London and also Newcastle.’
‘Okay, so what are you going to tell me?’
‘There are no overt signs of death, so I suspect it could be some form of drug overdose. And that really is all I’m going to say on the matter.’
‘How could they all have been drugged and still be seated at the table? Wouldn’t they have been moved post-mortem, or at least post-drugging?’
‘If that was the case, I’d say they were placed in these positions after death, for ease of movement,’ Brian said.
‘It wouldn’t be easy to move the father, he’s a big man. Claire?’
‘Yes?’
‘Were they moved before or after death?’
‘It’s a possibility they were moved post-mortem, but until I can check the lividity, I won’t know.’
‘It could be a murder-suicide. One of the family drugged all of the food,’ Brian suggested.
‘But the meals in front of them appear untouched. How would they have been drugged?’
‘In their drinks?’
‘The glasses are full and don’t look as if they’ve been touched either. Having said that, we can’t dismiss anything. From what we can see, though, I’d say that it’s leaning towards them being drugged first and then seated at the table.’ She glanced at Claire who was glaring at her. ‘Obviously, we’ll wait for confirmation from you. We need forensics to do their job and then we’ll know more.’
‘Finally, you accept that making suppositions is a waste of both of our times. Now if you’ve finished, I need to get on.’
‘Before we go, what about approximate times of death?’
‘Judging by the rigor, I’d put it at between eight and two, but I’ll know more later.’
‘Were they all killed at the same time?’ Brian asked, craning his neck, and leaning forward. Would Clare complain?
‘Which bit of I’ll know later don’t you understand?’ Claire snapped.
Whitney turned to Brian and gave him a shut up look.
‘I still think it could be murder-suicide.’ he continued.
‘And we won’t discount it. Except whoever did it would’ve tied themselves up after restraining the others? Is that even possible?’
‘It’s not impossible. I’ll know more when I investigate the knots and how each person was restrained,’ Claire said.
‘We’re going to the kitchen. Have you looked there yet?’
‘No. The bodies are here. And that’s where I’m focusing my efforts. Where’s Dr Cavendish, I’d have thought this would be right up her street? The meal, the way the bodies have been left. Definitely one for her.’
‘I agree, but George is currently with her parents and unavailable. I’ll let her know, though, because she’ll want to be a part of the investigation if it’s possible.’
Before Whitney and Brian left the dining room, she took a quick look around to see if there were any signs of a disturbance. There were modern paintings on the walls, all of which were hanging straight. On the sideboard were glass ornaments and several photos of the family. One on a skiing trip, one at Disney World, and one which appeared to have been taken at a wedding. These could easily have been displaced if there had been a fight as the room wasn’t that big. But there was no evidence that a struggle had taken place. Everything appeared to be in order.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
What the hell had the family done to warrant something so horrendous? Were they targeted or just unlucky to have been chosen?
‘This is so sick,’ Brian said. ‘Those poor kids.’
‘Not just the kids. The whole family. Can you imagine if there was another child who wasn’t home? They’d be left as an orphan. I hope it was all of them,’ Whitney said.
‘If there’s a missing child they could’ve been the one to commit the crime.’
‘True. We’ll know soon enough, though. Let’s find the kitchen. I imagine it will be at the back of the house.’ They returned to the hall and headed towards an open door at the rear.
The kitchen was ultra-modern with white floor-to-ceiling cupboards and an island in the middle with chrome and leather stools leaning against one side. It looked brand new. Everything was perfect, and again nothing appeared to be out of place. The small sitting room part had two oatmeal-coloured sofas facing one another with a low coffee table in between.
‘Was the meal prepared in here? Everything is spotless,’ Whitney said, looking around and seeing no signs of cooking having taken place. ‘Unless the meal was cooked elsewhere and brought in for them to eat. Or not eat,’ she added.
‘This is so weird,’ Brian said. ‘Everything’s so tidy. It’s like a show home. But they lived here.’
‘It makes no sense to me either. You should see my house and kitchen.’
‘Mine too,’ Brian agreed, nodding.
‘I assume that’s where the kid who found them came in,’ she said nodding towards the open door. ‘Unless there’s another entrance, but it doesn’t look like it. This scene is so bizarre. We could really do with George’s input.’
‘Yes, guv. But for now you’ve just got me.’
She glanced at Brian. He was frowning in her direction. Was he resenting that she’d prefer to be with George than him? She hadn’t actually said that. He was a good cop, but George brought a different approach and had skills neither she nor Brian had.
She was better company, too, and they’d become firm friends. It was unlikely that would happen between her and Brian. All she knew about him was that he played f
ootball, used to work at the Met, and had expensive taste in suits.
‘Let’s go back to Claire and then head over the road to question the boy who found them.’ They returned to the dining room, stopping at the entrance. ‘We’re going now, Claire. I’ll be in touch and will see you at the morgue, hopefully later today or possibly tomorrow.’
The pathologist glanced up.
‘Make it tomorrow. Five bodies are going to generate a lot of work before I can even start on the post-mortems. I doubt I’ll have time to complete them today, as we’ve arranged to go out later and it’s not something I can get out of.’
The we Claire referred to included her husband Ralph, who she’d only recently married, much to everyone’s surprise. Whitney had known the pathologist for over ten years, and she’d never known much about her, other than what happened at work. When she had told her and George about the nuptials, you could have knocked them down with a feather. They had yet to meet the man. He had to be something special to cope with Claire and her foibles.
‘Somewhere nice?’
‘A concert.’
‘Who are you seeing?’
‘The Lenchester Philharmonic Orchestra. They’re performing Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’ at the Opera House.’
‘Have fun,’ she said, not bothering to ask for further details because Claire would only volunteer information when she decided she wanted to, not when asked.
‘I’m sure we will, thank you. Goodbye.’ Claire gave her usual dismissive wave, lifted the camera up to her eye and resumed taking photos.
‘Let’s go,’ Whitney said, turning to Brian.
Chapter 3
Whitney and Brian left the house and crossed the wide road, lined with beech trees, to an identical detached house. Most houses on the Westcliffe estate were similar, having been designed and built by the same developer. Although they were larger than Whitney’s semi-detached, she wouldn’t want to live in such a characterless area.
‘This is going to be a case and a half, guv,’ Brian said.
‘You’re telling me. What on earth happened there? You know what, it’s worse somehow than if it was a complete bloodbath. This seemed so calculated.’
‘I know what you mean. What sort of sicko would’ve done it?’
‘Whatever it is. We’ll know more once Claire has done her thing.’
They walked through the open gate up to the front door and rang the bell.
‘I still can’t get used to the woman,’ Brian said, pulling a face.
‘Give it time. She grows on you. We’ve known each other for over ten years, and she’s always been the same. I’ll say one thing, you certainly know where you stand with her.’
‘Has she always dressed the same?’
Whitney gave a wry smile. ‘You think this is bad, you should’ve seen her when she first started working here. What we see now is tame by comparison. If only I’d thought to take some photos, it—’
She was interrupted by the door being opened by PC Hall.
‘Good morning, Sandy,’
‘Guv.’
‘How’s it going in there?’
‘Dylan Fletcher, the boy who found the bodies, is quiet and not very responsive. His mother, Mrs Fletcher, is fussing round him and won’t leave him alone. In my opinion, he needs time to process what’s happened.’
‘It’s difficult. It’s not like they would have dealt with a similar situation before. Is Dylan up to talking to us, do you think?’
‘Yes, I think he might be.’
‘Good. I’ll tread carefully, though. What can you tell me about him, and what else do you know about the situation so far?’
‘He’s thirteen, but not very mature for his age. If I hadn’t known his age, I’d have put him at around eleven. I asked him what he saw and he was able to tell me.’
‘Are there any other children in the house?’
‘No, he’s an only child.’
‘Is Mr Fletcher here with his wife and son?’
‘No, I haven’t seen him. According to Mrs Fletcher, he’s out playing golf.’
‘Okay, thanks. I’d like you to go back to the crime scene, take a couple of the others and start doing some house-to-house enquiries. Let’s hope someone saw something that will assist us.’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘Before you go, come into the lounge with us and introduce us to Dylan and then arrange for a family liaison officer to come over.’
They followed the officer into the lounge. Whitney tensed at the sight of the boy on the sofa. His eyes were as wide as saucers, staring at her like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
‘Mrs Fletcher, this is DCI Walker, and DS Chapman. They’d like to talk to you both about what happened,’ PC Hall said to the woman who stood up from being beside the boy and walked towards them.
‘Thank you, Sandy. We’ll take it from here,’ Whitney said.
The officer left the room and Whitney turned to Mrs Fletcher. ‘Good morning. We have a few questions to ask you and Dylan.’
‘I can’t get my head around it. That poor family.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘And Dylan finding them, too. It’s going to stay with him for the rest of his life. How could it not?’
Whitney could sympathise with how the woman was feeling, but surely she realised that her comments weren’t good for Dylan to hear. Yes, of course, it was going to have a massive effect on him, but now wasn’t the time to be discussing it. Then again, she’d seen the bodies, too, and was also affected.
Whitney headed over to where the boy was seated and crouched down beside him.
‘Hello, Dylan,’ she said gently. ‘I know this is going to be hard for you, but we need to ask you some questions about what you saw when you went into the Barker house earlier. Is that okay?’
‘Yes,’ the boy said, nodding.
Whitney sat opposite him and pulled out her notepad from her pocket.
‘Can you tell me exactly what happened starting from when you left here and went over to the house? In as much detail as possible, please.’
His fists were clenched in his lap, and he sucked in a loud breath. ‘Harvey and I had planned to go to the park to play football today. We’d arranged to meet our friends there.’
‘And what time was that?’
‘I said I’d call for him at ten so we could walk to the park and meet the others at quarter past.’
‘When did you make these arrangements?’
‘At school on Friday before we came home. I saw Harvey yesterday morning before we went out shopping, because he was in the garden, and we talked about it again.’
‘So, none of your arrangements had been changed?’
‘No.’
‘Did you check with the other boys that they were still going to meet you?’
‘I didn’t, but Harvey might have. I don’t know.’
‘What time did you leave home this morning?’
‘I remember hearing the clock in the hall chime as I left, so it was exactly ten. I walked through the gate to the back door of Harvey’s house, as I usually do. Mrs Barker always asks visitors to go in that way. They hardly ever use the front door because she says it saves the carpet getting dirty.’
Whitney nodded. ‘And then what happened?’
‘I knocked a few times, but nobody answered. So I tried the handle, and because the door wasn’t locked, I went in. I thought it would be okay. I’ve done it before, and no one had minded …’ His voice drifted off.
‘You’re doing very well, Dylan. I know this is hard, but let’s keep going. Would you like a drink?’
‘No, thank you, I’ve got one.’ He picked up an open can of cola from the small table next to the sofa and took a sip.
‘What did you do after you walked into the kitchen?’ Whitney asked, once he’d finished drinking.
‘I called out hello. But there was no reply.’
‘And did that concern you?’
‘Not really. They might not have heard, and I thought Mr
s Barker might still be in bed because she does that on a Sunday sometimes. The same as Keira and Tyler.’
‘What about Mr Barker?’
‘I wasn’t sure about him because he was away a lot and often isn’t there.’
‘So, thinking back to when you first went into the house, into the kitchen, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?’
She wanted to lead him gently into the time he discovered the bodies, to help the shock of having to relive it.
He frowned, as if mentally examining the scene. ‘No. I’m sure it all looked the same as it always does.’
‘The kitchen was very clean and tidy. Did you think that to be odd?’
‘No. Mrs Barker was very …’ He chewed on his bottom lip.
‘House-proud,’ Mrs Fletcher said, joining in. ‘Obsessively so, if you ask me. Not that I want to speak ill of the dead but, seriously, who could live like that day in, day out? I know I couldn’t.’
‘I understand,’ Whitney said. ‘What did you do next, Dylan?’
‘When I didn’t see anyone, I decided to go up to Harvey’s bedroom in case he was up there, but on the way I passed the dining room. The door was open, and I could see the back of Mrs Barker. Her head was leaning to the side and looked weird. I walked in to check if everything was okay and that’s when I saw them all sitting at the table and …’ His words fell away.
Whitney scribbled down her notes, wishing that she didn’t have to put the boy through this so soon after it had happened, but time was of the essence in these sorts of cases.
‘You’re doing really well, Dylan. We’ve nearly finished. Could you tell me what you did next? Did you touch anything?’
‘No. I ran back into the kitchen and out of the house, and then came here to tell Mum.’
Whitney turned to his mother. ‘What did you do, Mrs Fletcher?’
‘I hurried over to the house with Dylan and left him outside while I went to look. I wanted to check to see if anyone was alive. When I saw all of the bodies, I could see it was too late. I used to be a nurse, that’s how I knew they were dead.’
‘Then what did you do?’
