‘So you must have to store coffins in here for a while before they’re cremated. Cremation doesn’t happen straight after the service, as people imagine?’
‘Well…’
‘You see, I’ve always pictured the flames waiting behind an oven door that opens as soon as those curtains close. But actually, the coffin probably just gets put on a shelf for a while.’
‘Not for long. The code of practice requires cremations to take place on the same day as the service, wherever possible.’
‘The same day?’
Lloyd swallowed. ‘Wherever possible.’
‘But you could have bodies stacking up in here all day until you get a chance to clear the backlog?’
‘It isn’t like that. Not in a well-managed crematorium.’
‘Is there always someone in here?’
‘The cremator should never be left unattended.’
‘Is that in the code of practice, too?’
‘Yes,’ said Lloyd stiffly. ‘Is there anything more I can do for you?’
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‘Two more things,’ said Cooper. ‘First, I’d like details of staff members who have access to the cremation suite.’
‘All of them?’
‘Going back eighteen months, to the beginning of last March.’
‘I’ll need authority from my company’s head office to release personnel information, but we should be able to manage that.’
‘Also, I’ll need a list of cremations that took place here on Monday the eighth of March last year.’
‘It might take some time to produce the lists. We’re very busy today.’
‘You can fax them to me,’ said Cooper. ‘The number is on my card.’
He paused at the door of the cremation suite and sniffed the air. ‘It’s funny, Mr Lloyd, but I expected more of a smell in here.’
Lloyd blinked, as if he’d already dismissed Cooper from his mind. ‘There are automatic controls built into the system to maintain a slightly negative pressure in the cremation chamber,’ he said.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means we make sure any unpleasant odours don’t leak out. They’re kept firmly on the inside.’
Back at the office, Cooper picked up the phone on his desk and rang through to Scenes of Crime. He was in luck for once - Liz Petty answered.
‘Liz, is it possible to identify cremated remains using DNA?’ he said.
‘Nope. Cremation destroys DNA. The lab can’t get anything usable from cremation remains.’
‘That’s a pity.’
‘Well, don’t despair, Ben. There’s another possibility.’
‘Yes?’
‘One thing the public doesn’t realize about cremation is
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that teeth stay pretty much intact, even after the bone residue has been pulverized. If you poke about a bit in the urn, you can often find a few teeth, fillings, posts, that sort of thing.’
Cooper raised an eyebrow. ‘I think that probably counts as one of the things the public doesn’t want to know.’
‘I expect you’re right. But it might be useful, eh? You could get some partial dental mapping done. Artificial teeth are more difficult to destroy than natural teeth, so if your deceased person had crowns or bridgework, you might be in luck. Sometimes, it only needs one tooth.’
‘Hoping for another match from dental records?’ said Cooper. ‘But I need to get a possible ID first.’
‘Of course. But you’ve already trawled through the mispers for that period, haven’t you? When you were trying to ID Audrey Steele’s remains.’
‘A lot of good that will do me,’ said Cooper. ‘Skeletonized remains are one thing - at least the experts can come up with information on age, height, gender, racial background. And I was lucky that I got a facial reconstruction done, otherwise Audrey Steele would have remained unidentified. But tell me how do I go about obtaining a biological identity from a few pounds of bone ash?’
The list of cremations was the first to come through on the fax machine. Eight names and addresses, complete with details of next of kin and the funeral director responsible for the arrangements. In addition to Audrey Steele, that meant seven more dead people with bereaved families.
‘Maybe that was the point,’ said Fry, when Cooper briefed her on his progress.
‘What was?’
‘Well, somebody was willing to risk Audrey Steele’s remains being identified and traced, weren’t they?’
‘It was a very small risk. We were lucky with the reconstruction.’
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‘Nevertheless, the risk was there. And the only reason I can think of that somebody might take that risk would be if they were convinced it would be impossible for us to identify the second body.’
‘It’s not entirely impossible,’ said Cooper. ‘With time, effort and perseverance …’
‘Impractical, then,’ said Fry. ‘You know how many missing persons there are on the files, Ben. You have no way of narrowing them down. And there’s always the possibility that it was someone who was never reported missing.’
Cooper sighed. ‘You’re right. I suppose I might be able to make more progress if I come at it from another angle.’
Fry leaned back in her chair. ‘And what if there never was another body? You might be approaching this from a false assumption, Ben. The explanation could be something much more prosaic’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, imagine for a moment that something went badly wrong at the crematorium that day, and one or more people took a lot of trouble to cover it up. In other words, a cock up rather than a conspiracy.’
‘No,’ said Cooper. ‘That’s a cock-up and a conspiracy.’
‘Whatever. But there might not have been an extra body to dispose of at all. Do you see what I mean?’
‘So whose ashes would be in Audrey Steele’s urn?’
Fry began to warm to her theory. ‘Maybe they just shared out the ashes that they already had. How many other cremations took place that day?’
‘Seven.’
‘Well, that’s enough, don’t you think? A few ashes from one cremation, a few from another. You’d soon have an extra urn full enough to convince a relative.’
‘Ashes from several bodies mixed together?’ said Cooper thoughtfully. ‘Mr Lloyd admitted himself it’s the biggest concern that families have at a cremation.’
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‘There you go, then. Perhaps he has a guilty conscience.’
But Cooper shook his head. ‘Hold on, Diane - the computer records show a normal burn time and a normal weight of residue. I’ve got a printout in the file.’
‘Are you telling me that computer records can’t be falsified?’ ‘If you knew what you were doing, I suppose …’
‘Well, before you go off looking for a murder victim who never existed, you might want to take a look at those other cremations,’ said Fry. ‘See if you can track down the ashes and let Forensics do some comparisons. All you need is one match between urns and your body-swap theory goes up in flames.’
Cooper looked at her to see if she was joking, but she wasn’t. ‘That’s going to take time, Diane.’
‘I know. But you don’t need to get anyone’s life story, just their urns - if they still have them.’
‘Even so ‘
‘Ben, it’s preferable to the amount of time and resources that could be wasted if we initiate a futile murder enquiry.’
‘All right. I’ll get on to it.’
‘Fine.’
As Fry got up to leave, Cooper asked her: ‘By the way, is there any progress on the Birley enquiry?’
She nodded. ‘Right now, we’ve got Sandra Birley and her supposed abductor sitting in interview rooms downstairs.’
‘Mrs Birley is alive and well?’
‘Very much so. And she has some explaining to do.’
When Fry had moved out of earshot, Gavin Murfin leaned across the desk. ‘It wasn’t entirely luck that we
got an ID for Audrey Steele, though, was it?’ he said. ‘It was your persistence that made the difference, Ben. Most other people would have given up, like Miss wanted you to. She ought to have acknowledged that, at least.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Gavin.’
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Murfin sniffed. ‘You’re too tolerant by half.’ ‘I can’t be bothered about it now. I’ve got some difficult visits to make.’
Cooper hoped that eighteen months had been long enough for the bereaved families to come to terms with their loss. He might be about to intrude on their grief in a big way.
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15
Cooper didn’t need prompting this time before seating himself in one of the low armchairs in Vivien Gill’s sitting room he’d already seen the blinds separating across the road. The baby seemed to be either sleeping or being looked after somewhere else, because he wasn’t taken through into the kitchen. That didn’t mean he couldn’t smell it, though.
‘Mrs Gill, this is a bit difficult,’ he said. ‘But you’re aware that we found your daughter’s remains. The identification has been confirmed from dental records.’
‘Yes, I understand that. It’s been explained to me.’ ‘Well, the thing is, the ashes that you have -‘ Cooper indicated the urn on the dresser. ‘Obviously, in the circumstances, they can’t be Audrey’s.’
Mrs Gill nodded. ‘Yes, I’d thought of that. I’m not stupid.’ ‘We’d like to take them away and analyse them.’ ‘You think you can find out whose ashes they really are?’ ‘It might be possible. And that could help us to find out who … well, who took your daughter’s body.’
Vivien Gill looked at the urn. ‘It’s funny, but I almost want
to keep it, even though I know it isn’t Audrey. It’s not as if I’ve
spent my time looking at the ashes themselves, just at the urn.’
Cooper held up his hands. ‘The urn is yours. But before
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long, you could have the genuine ashes to put in it, if that’s what you want.’
‘Oh, take it. I’ll think about whether I want it back, and I’ll let you know.’
‘Thank you.’
Mrs Gill motioned him to stay seated and fetched the urn herself. Before Cooper could speak, she slid off the lid and looked in.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘What we’re reduced to.’
‘Yes. If I may …?’
Cooper took a large plastic bag from his pocket and carefully slipped the urn in, before filling out a receipt. The lid didn’t look particularly secure, so he’d have to be careful to keep it upright in the car. The lab wouldn’t be happy to get only half an exhibit, with the rest scattered in his footwell or down the back of a seat.
‘Mrs Gill, do you remember anything unusual about the service at the crematorium?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, were there any mourners you didn’t know, for example?’
‘There were some of Audrey’s friends from the hospital that I hadn’t met before. Nurses, you know. But apart from that, I knew pretty much everybody. It wasn’t a big do.’
‘And apart from the mourners?’
‘Well, Batman was there.’
‘Who?’
‘Batman. Bloke with a black suit, miserable expression, travels in a big car with a lot of space in the back.’
Cooper was baffled, until he saw Mrs Gill watching him with a sharp expression, like a bird. He had a feeling he was being tested.
‘The undertaker,’ she said. ‘Melvyn Hudson.’
‘Funeral director is the title he prefers, I believe. So Mr Hudson was there?’
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‘Of course he was there. He had to do all the business, didn’t he? Make sure nothing went wrong. That’s his job.’
‘And did anything go wrong?’
She looked away, as if she suddenly had to check on the weather outside the window.
‘Vernon Slack was driving the hearse. God, that lad - it’s obvious he only got a job with the firm because his grandfather is part-owner.’
‘He can drive a car all right, can’t he?’
‘Oh, cars he’s fine with, and he can lift a coffin as well as the rest of them. But that’s about all. He’s useless around the mourners. Doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what expression to have on his face, doesn’t know where to put his hands. He’s a complete embarrassment. Melvyn does his best to keep him out of the way. And out of sight, as much as possible.’
‘How do you know Vernon Slack?’
‘Everybody knows the Hudsons and the Slacks. They’ve been in business in Edendale for ages.’
Vivien Gill seemed to be taking everything very well. But Cooper had learned that an apparent calmness could be deceptive. At any moment the grief might spurt out, like blood gushing from a severed artery.
‘Please tell me,’ said Mrs Gill. T don’t understand. Why would anyone want to steal Audrey’s body?’
‘We don’t know. It may have been … well, incidental to something else.’
‘Incidental?’
‘Yes.’
Mrs Gill frowned as she turned the word over in her mind. She seemed to be trying to get to grips with the idea that her daughter’s body could have been merely an accessory to somebody else’s obsession, a minor stage prop in a scene where the spotlight fell on a different star. Audrey had been so central to her life that she would never be able to manage the shift
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of perspective. Cooper saw her frown fade as she gave up the effort.
‘But we’ll be able to do everything properly now, won’t we?’ she said. ‘We can have Audrey back and do it properly.’
‘That will be up to the coroner. But since there’s no evidence that your daughter’s death was anything but natural, I’m sure the remains will be released soon. Have you thought about whether you’ll have a cremation again, or perhaps a burial?’
‘No cremation,’ said Mrs Gill. ‘I know what I’m going to do this time. I’m going to go for a green burial.’
‘What a good idea. There’s a green burial site near Lowbridge, isn’t there?’
‘That’s the one I’m going to use. I’ve already contacted them.’
‘I’m glad you’re looking at it practically. That’s the best way.’
‘I think so. The others aren’t so keen, but they’ll lump it.’
‘The others?’
‘I’ve got quite a big family. Audrey’s family.’
Cooper took the urn out to his car. After a moment’s thought, he put it in the rear footwell and packed it in tightly to stop it moving or falling over while he was driving. He would have preferred to take it straight back to West Street, but he had some other calls to make first.
Ian Todd sat in the interview room with a duty solicitor. He seemed a little smaller when he was sitting down, but he was still one of the guiltiest-looking people Fry had ever seen. He had the sort of fleshy face that made a man look untrustworthy, like a used-car salesman. If he’d been wearing one of those tight, dark suits cut too high at the lapels, she’d have known to cross the road to avoid him.
‘Why is Mr Todd under arrest?’ said the solicitor, as soon as the tapes were running.
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‘On suspicion of the abduction and unlawful detention of Mrs Sandra Birley,’ said Fry.
‘I didn’t abduct anybody,’ said Todd. ‘That’s ludicrous.’
‘Mr Todd, we have photographic evidence of you leaving the Clappergate car park on Tuesday night with Sandra Birley, who failed to return home that night. Since then, there has been no word from Mrs Birley, no contact with her husband or anyone else. Today, we find Mrs Birley in your house. Can you explain that?’
Todd leaned forward suddenly and slapped his hands on the table. No one looked nervous, except the solicitor.
‘Did Sandra say she was abducted?’
‘We’re getting a statement from Mrs Birley now,’ said Fry.
‘Ha! T
hat means she hasn’t said she was abducted.’ Todd turned to his solicitor. ‘She hasn’t made a complaint,’ he said. ‘How can they arrest me?’
‘It’s a good question, Sergeant,’ said the solicitor. ‘What evidence do you have to justify a charge against Mr Todd?’
‘I’ve just told you ‘
‘None of what you said constitutes evidence of abduction or unlawful detention. Unless you have a statement to the contrary from the lady you mention. In which case, my client will dispute it.’
‘Mr Todd has some explaining to do,’ said Fry calmly.
‘Not unless ‘
Todd held up a hand. ‘It’s OK. Let’s have it sorted out and then I can get out of here.’
‘Go ahead then, Mr Todd. We’re listening.’
‘Well, far from abducting Sandra Birley, I’d arranged to meet her on Tuesday night after work. But she was late. So I went to the Clappergate car park, and I waited for her. When she arrived, we walked to my car, which was parked in New Street. Sandra came home with me and she stayed for three days. And that’s it. Can I go now?’
‘What was the purpose of your meeting?’ said Fry.
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‘That’s personal. It’s none of your business.’ He looked at the solicitor again. ‘It’s none of their business, is it? They can’t ask me about that.’
‘The officers can ask. But you’re not obliged to answer.’ ‘Were you having an affair with Mrs Birley?’ said Fry. ‘It’s not an affair,’ said Todd. ‘She was coming away with me. Well, coming to live with me. She’s leaving her husband.’ ‘She doesn’t seem to have told her husband that.’ Todd shrugged. ‘She would have got round to it.’ The tapes continued to turn in the silence as Fry struggled to contain her anger. For three days she’d been convinced that Sandra Birley had been abducted and murdered by a psychotic killer who was taunting the police with his sick phone calls. She had failed to get in touch with anyone during that time. She would have got round it made her angry. She wondered if she could learn some breathing techniques from Melvyn Hudson.
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