by Chris Taylor
“Come and look at this.”
The doctor’s tone had sharpened. Ellie’s heart accelerated. “What is it?”
Samantha was working her way through the woman’s honey-blond, matted hair with a pair of tweezers. Bending closer, she extracted a small particle and dropped it into a clean kidney dish.
“I don’t know, but her hair’s full of it.” She continued to part sections of hair, retrieving more and more slivers.
Ellie moved closer and peered into the dish. It was difficult to say what they were. Pinkish-brown in color, the particles were irregular in shape and size, the biggest about half the size of her smallest fingernail.
“I’ll send them to the lab.” Samantha indicated with her chin toward the other dishes lined up beside the gurney. “Along with those. Hair and tissue samples, blood samples, mouth swabs. Until someone comes forward with an identification, it’s the best I can do.”
Ellie suppressed a sigh. Someone out there was missing a daughter, a sister—maybe even a mother. “I appreciate your help, Samantha. Any clues on how it was removed?”
The doctor turned the head until it rested on its side. Ellie tried not to look at the single, milky-brown eye as it stared sightlessly up at her. Pointing with her tweezers, Samantha indicated the area where the woman’s neck should have been.
“Have a look here. See the striations in the vertebrae? It looks to me like it’s been sawn off.”
Ellie swallowed and shook her head. “What sort of a monster does something like that?”
“I’m afraid it gets worse.” Samantha poked at the ragged, exposed flesh. “There’s still blood in this tissue.” She raised her head and stared at Ellie. “Have you ever seen a dead heart pump?”
CHAPTER TWO
“For the love of God, will somebody answer that phone?”
The incessant ringing continued behind Ellie. Her fingers clenched around the phone already pressed against her ear and she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t the fault of her colleagues that she’d spent the rest of last night drowning memories of her son, Jamie, with a bottle of merlot. To top that off, she now had the unenviable task of identifying a young woman’s head.
Luke sidled in from the tea room and propped his hip against her desk, his usual mug of morning coffee in hand. A shock of red hair fell across his eyes as he took a sip. “How did it go last night?”
She grimaced and covered the mouthpiece. “We’ve got a real sicko on our hands. Samantha’s preliminary examination found the head was severed while the girl was still alive.”
“Shit! You’re kidding?”
“Afraid not. To make it worse, we still don’t have an ID. We’ve joined the queue waiting for lab results. There’s a backlog, apparently.”
“Of course there is. So, Sam did the autopsy?”
Ellie nodded. “Yeah.”
“Lucky break.”
“Yeah, let’s hope it’s not the only one. We haven’t got much to go on. A pair of earrings and some weird pink-colored particles found in her hair. Sam thinks the girl could have been dead for up to three weeks.”
“Have you sent pictures to the media yet?”
Ellie nodded. “Sam did her best to minimize the shock factor with some strategic drapes, but they were still pretty awful. As much as I want to get her identified, I feel for family members that recognize her. No one should have to see their loved one like that.”
Luke’s lips compressed.
Ellie did her best to stop her mind from straying to the last moments she’d spent with her son Jamie. She knew exactly what it felt like to identify a loved one in the morgue.
Determinedly pushing the painful memories aside, she concentrated on listening to the elevator music that played monotonously in her ear.
“Who are you waiting on the line for?” Luke asked.
“The Department of Roads and Maritime Services. Thought it would kill some time while I’m waiting. The boss asked me to take a look at a spate of thefts that have cropped up in the Mt Druitt area. I’m trying to get some registration information on a vehicle spotted by one of the victims about the time of the burglary.”
Luke shook his head. “You mean the general duties boys haven’t already done that? What the hell are they teaching them at the Academy these days? Back in our day—”
“Hey, don’t go lumping me in with your vintage. You must have at least a decade on me.”
Luke grinned. “Really? And here I just thought you looked good for your age.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Baxter.”
“No offence, Cooper.” He sidled closer to her desk. “How old are you, anyway? Or are you one of those girls who can’t bear to mention their age?”
Ellie tried for a glare but couldn’t quite pull it off. She’d never had an issue with her age. The alternative to no longer having birthdays was pretty grim.
“I’m twenty-seven, if you really want to know.”
Luke whistled. “That old?”
She picked up a file and hit him with it.
“Hey! You spilled my coffee.”
“Not the least of what you deserve.”
“Now, now, Coop. Don’t be like that.”
Before she could cut him down with a suitably disparaging reply, Detective Superintendent Ben Walker appeared in the doorway of his office, his face grim.
“Luke. Ellie. In here now.”
Ellie watched him retreat back into his office. She turned to Luke, her eyebrows raised. Luke shrugged. With a sigh, she replaced the phone in its dock and stood.
“Sounds serious,” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Guess we’d better get in there, then.”
“Yeah.”
She crossed the squad room floor, wending her way through the clutter of government-issued gray steel-and-laminate desks, Luke close on her heels.
“Shut the door.” The curt command came from the direction of the window. Ben Walker stood motionless, his back to them, staring through the glass at the gray, dreary day beyond.
“Is there something wrong, sir?”
“Yes, Detective Cooper. There’s something wrong.” He leaned over his crowded desk and picked up a piece of paper. “A few moments ago, I took a call from an Evelyn Ward at Cranebrook. Her daughter’s missing. No one’s seen or heard from the girl since ten last night. The mother called her disappearance in last night and someone downstairs filled in a missing person’s report. It’s been referred to us because there’s still no sign of her.”
Ellie frowned. “How old is she?”
“Nineteen.”
“Nineteen? With all due respect, sir, it’s not unusual for nineteen-year-olds to disappear for a day or two. Maybe she’s with friends?”
“I know what you’re saying, Ellie, but not this girl.”
“How can you be so sure? When I was nineteen, there was more than one occasion when I lost track of time and ended up spending the night at a girlfriend’s place. Mom and Dad wouldn’t know where I was until I called in the next day.”
“What a joy you must have been, Cooper.” Luke held his poker face under her narrow-eyed scrutiny.
She punched him in the arm. “Just you wait, Baxter. You, me and the squash courts. Later.”
Luke’s gaze swept over her petite frame. She barely came up to his shoulder. “You’re on,” he grinned.
“Cut it out, you two.”
Their expressions immediately turned solemn and they murmured apologies.
Ben ran a tired hand through his graying hair. “This is the second girl to go missing in the last few weeks. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. I know it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but the thing is, this girl’s never spent a night away from home.”
Ellie’s eyebrows rose. “How old did you say she was?”
He glared at her. “Nineteen. And yes, she’s never been away from home overnight before.” His eyes drilled into hers. “She’s disabled,
Detective. She has Down’s syndrome.”
Ellie’s shoulders slumped and the breath left her body in a rush. “Shit. I’m sorry, sir. I really am. Me and my big mouth. I should learn to close it. How many times—?”
“For fuck’s sake, Ellie. Shut up.”
Ellie flushed in surprise at Ben’s harsh reprimand. “Yeah. Right. I’ll stop talking. Right now.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. When she opened them, Ben regarded her closely, his expression somber.
“I want you and Luke to talk to Mrs Ward. Go and get a few photos of the girl. Talk to the neighbors. Call the TV stations. You know what to do. We need to find this girl. Before another night falls.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Job’s done, sir.” Luke gave him a level look. “We’ll find her. Don’t you worry.”
Ben’s gaze narrowed. “Yeah, well, just get on with it, okay? Time’s of the essence.”
They moved toward the door.
“How are things going with the other investigation? Did we get anything from the autopsy?”
Ellie turned back. “It’s not good, sir. Samantha Wolfe thinks believes the woman was decapitated before she stopped breathing.”
“Jesus.”
Ellie remained silent.
“You don’t have an ID?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“You’ve got it out to the media?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Ben blew out his breath on a heavy sigh. “I’ll get some of the others to go through the missing persons’ files. Do we have a time of death, yet?”
“Two or three weeks. That’s Samantha’s best guess,” Ellie replied.
“Well, it’s not the Ward girl. But what about the other one? Sally Batten?”
Ellie pursed her lips. “It’s possible. I didn’t think of her earlier, but she was reported missing a fortnight ago.”
“As soon as you’ve seen the Wards, go and talk to Sally’s parents. Show them the head photos. There’s no way of knowing if they read the papers. I’m sure the pictures are gruesome, but we don’t have a choice. Besides, if it is Sally Batten, they’ll have to formally identify her at the morgue and I’m betting the real life version is a hell of a lot worse than the pictures.”
* * *
Ellie negotiated the right hand turn into Evelyn Ward’s street and glanced across at Luke. “What number on Edward Street did you say?”
He consulted the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. “Thirty-six. At least, that’s what I think it says.” He turned the paper in her direction.
She glanced at it and frowned. “The boss could do with some handwriting practice.”
“I guess he had other things on his mind.”
“Do you think there’s more going on here? I mean, I know this is the second girl to go missing, but it’s not that uncommon for teenagers to take off for a while. Especially if things aren’t good at home.”
“I guess you don’t know, then.”
“Know what?”
“That’s right. I forgot you only transferred in a few months ago.”
She waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she sighed and pulled up at the curb outside the red brick house with the number thirty-six painted in black on the neat white picket fence running across the front of the property.
She turned to him expectantly. “So?”
The line spanning the bridge of Luke’s nose deepened. He stared out through the windshield. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still heavy with full-bellied clouds.
“The boss’ daughter went missing at nineteen, more than ten years ago,” he murmured. “She’s never been found.”
Heat spread across Ellie’s cheeks. She thumped the steering wheel. “Shit. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t like to talk about it. She was his only child.” He shifted to look at the nondescript brick-and-tile house opposite. “That’s why this has probably hit him harder than you’d expect.”
Ellie breathed a heavy sigh and shook her head. “Shit.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, anyway, let’s go and talk to the mother. The sooner we get some pictures out to the media, the sooner we’ll find her.” He glanced at his watch. “If we’re lucky, it might even make the six o’clock news.”
Ellie climbed out of the unmarked vehicle and tried to ignore the cold knot of dread in her belly. The girl might have been nineteen, but was likely to have the mentality of a much younger child. Memories of the young son she’d lost stirred at that connection. She tightened her lips and forced them from her mind. Now was not the time. After all, this wasn’t about her.
A white metal mailbox overflowing with junk mail—half of it hanging out, wet and neglected—stood near the front gate. No doubt collecting mail was the last thing on their minds. She took a steadying breath and looked across at Luke. “Ready?”
He nodded. “Let’s do it.”
* * *
Ellie hid her reluctance while she accepted the cup of tea and balanced it awkwardly on her knee. She hated tea. Unfortunately, it was all Evelyn Ward had offered and it seemed rude not to accept. The woman had gone to a lot of trouble gathering tea things, including polished silver teaspoons, store-bought fruit cake and matching china. Even the sugar bowl matched, but Ellie didn’t fail to notice the way the woman’s hands shook as she loaded the items onto the tray.
They were seated on a worn, chintz-covered two-seater sofa in a small but immaculate house. Ellie guessed it was circa 1950, but the modern, neutral-colored paintwork was fresh and the place had been decorated with a talented eye.
After pouring the tea, Evelyn Ward took a seat opposite them in the matching armchair. Her cup remained untouched.
“I hope you’re not too hot.” At their enquiring looks, she shrugged apologetically. “I had to stoke the fire. I just haven’t been able to get warm.”
Ellie’s heart swelled with compassion. Leaning forward, she set her cup and saucer on the cherry wood coffee table and cleared her throat.
“Thanks for the tea, Mrs Ward, but we need to ask you some questions about your daughter. We know you’re worried about her. I take it you haven’t heard from her?”
The woman shook her head. She stared back at them, her pale eyes swollen and red-rimmed.
“It’s just not like her, Detective. I know what you must be thinking… She’s nineteen. Of course there’s going to be nights when she doesn’t come home. But not my Josie.” She gave them a hesitant look. “You know she has—?”
“Yes, Detective Superintendent Walker told us.” Luke placed his cup on the table and leaned forward. “We need you to tell us about her day yesterday, right up until the time you last saw her.”
Tears welled up in Evelyn’s eyes. She took a moment to dig around inside the front of her woollen dress and produced a crumpled tissue. Dabbing at the moisture, she then blew her nose. The tissue remained scrunched in her hand.
“I’m sorry, Detective. I just… I’m just so worried about her. I know something dreadful has happened. I just know it.”
“Mrs Ward.” Ellie kept her voice calm. “I know how difficult this is for you, but we need to get as much information as we can if we’re going to find her. Now, I think you told Detective Superintendent Walker she was home until about three o’clock when she left for work at the local supermarket. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right, although she wasn’t at home, as such. We went into town together in the morning to get our hair cut.”
She touched her head reflexively. “We always go in together. Every six weeks.” A thin smile twisted her lips. “She gets hers curled, I get mine straightened.”
Ellie returned her smile, hoping to put her at ease. “When you say you went into town, I take it you mean Penrith?”
“Yes. We go to Hair Affair in the Westfield Mall.”
“How did she seem?” Ellie asked.
Evelyn frowned in concentration. “She seemed just like she always does
. Her usual, happy self. She loves going to the hairdresser.”
“Did anything happen while you were out?” Luke asked. “Did you run into anyone she knew?”
“No, we didn’t run into anyone we knew, but not long after we had lunch, I started feeling unwell. I-I must have eaten something bad. We left soon afterwards and returned home.”
“How does Josie normally get to and from work?” Ellie asked.
“I usually drive her.”
Ellie consulted her notebook. “I think you told Detective Superintendent Walker your husband Harold dropped Josie off at work yesterday. Is that right?”
“Yes.” The woman looked away. Color flushed her cheeks. “I-I had taken quite ill. Since our arrival home, I had spent most of the time in the bathroom. I had a terrible bout of gastric and vomiting. I could barely stand from the cramping. There was no way I was going to be able to drive her there and collect her again. Harold was going to do it, but then he was called to work.”
“What does he do?” asked Luke.
“He’s a nurse at Westmead Hospital. Someone called in sick. They were already short staffed.” She shrugged. “He agreed to go in.”
Ellie sat forward in her seat, her notebook open. “Why didn’t you call Josie’s boss and tell him she couldn’t work? I’m sure if you’d explained the situation—”
“I understand what you’re saying, Detective and we talked about it. Harold was going to call the store, but Josie begged for us to let her go.” Mrs Ward shook her head, tears welling up once again. “She loves that job,” she sobbed. “It’s her first job. It makes her feel like any other nineteen-year-old.”
Ellie gave the woman a few moments to get her emotions back under control. She did her best not to glance at her watch. Time was marching on. They needed to get moving.
“What time did Harold drop Josie at work?” she asked.
“Three o’clock.”
“What time did she finish?”
“Ten. That’s her usual shift. Three to ten. She mainly packs shelves and does product presentations—things like that.”
“Was Harold supposed to collect Josie last night?” Ellie asked.
