by M A Comley
“Please, I’m begging you to spare me. I have money tucked away, you can have it all. It’s supposed to be my retirement fund, but you can have it, all of it.”
The stranger’s arm rose again. The ice pick found its target. Dale cried out; the pick stuck in his throat. The assailant twisted the implement to make the hole wider, deeper. Dale had lost too much blood to continue his fight now. Instead, he made peace with his maker in his final few seconds, offering up a silent prayer. His eyes closed, blocking out the stranger at last, and he exhaled his final breath.
5
Katy received the call during the drive home that evening. She punched herself in the leg—she’d been looking forward to bathing Georgie and reading her a bedtime story. Instead, here she was, turning around and heading out to what appeared to be a murder scene. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate already. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. The Crawford case had ground to a halt, leading her to tell the desk sergeant to contact her if any other major crimes cropped up in the area.
“Charlie, did you get the call?” she asked through her hands-free.
“I did. I’m ten minutes out. Where are you?”
“I’m about the same, give or take. It’s a gruesome one, so Mick said. Just what we need at this time of the day. Will Brandon be all right about you doing overtime if it’s necessary?”
Charlie laughed. “You worry too much. He’s a pussycat. I didn’t give him the chance to complain. I’ve told you before, I’m committed to the job, Katy, there’s no need to be concerned for me or my relationship.”
“I’m not. Hey, forget I asked. I’ll see you soon.”
Katy ended the call and put her foot down. She arrived at the location soon after, Charlie not far behind her. They slipped on their protective suits and shoes and joined Patti on the other side of the cordon.
“What have we got?” Katy asked, staring down at the bloody mess lying horizontal on the tarmac.
“Looks like a murder scene to me. I know, stating the obvious as usual. You shouldn’t ask such a stupid question,” Patti said, a grin forming at the end of her tetchy response.
“Ha bloody ha. You definitely missed your vocation, Patti. You should have been a court jester.”
“Cheek, do they even exist nowadays? For your information, I’m not that old, I’m considered to be in the prime of my life.”
“At least you still have a life, unlike this chap. Bloody hell, someone really did a number on him, didn’t they?”
“Oh God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so horrendous. I’m having trouble holding on to my stomach here. I never thought I’d hear myself say that,” Charlie piped up, a green tinge shadowing her features.
“Step away from my crime scene if you think you’re going to spill your guts,” Patti advised with a stern warning edging her tone.
“You do look a little off-colour. Go on, Charlie, step back. Either that or don’t look at the victim.”
“I can’t help it, it’s gross but compelling at the same time. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Katy and Patti rolled their eyes at each other.
“Anyway, my guys have had a chance to survey the area,” Patti said. “Fifty yards or so up the road we have a hefty amount of blood spatter, telling us that in all probability the attack began back there and ended in the man’s death here.”
“Do you think someone did this to him…? I mean, yes, I appreciate someone killed him, but the eyes, do you think the perp did that or could it possibly be the birds treating him as roadkill and instantly going for his eyes?”
Patti stared at her. “Since when does a bird pluck out the eyes and leave them at the scene? You did notice them sitting on the man’s chest, didn’t you?”
“Sorry, my mistake. Okay, I should have realised what I was thinking was daft before saying it out loud.”
“You’re not wrong there. This was a hate crime. People rarely tend to inflict this much pain and torture on someone they don’t know.”
“Torture? Are you telling me he might’ve still been alive when his eyes were gouged out?”
“It’s hard to tell. Maybe the assailant did it directly after he was killed. Pure speculation either way, until I get a chance to examine him properly.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve discovered any ID on him, have you?” Katy glanced around. All she could see were four SOCO team members and the two uniformed officers at either end of the crime scene, ensuring no other cars came closer than was necessary. “No witnesses either by the look of things.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, on both counts. There’s a man in the back of one of the squad cars, he called it in to your lot. I asked him to stick around when I got here, knowing that you’d want to speak to him. And the victim’s ID is in an evidence pouch, sitting by my bag.”
“Okay, Charlie, why don’t you go and question the man? See if he saw anyone hanging around, either on foot or if he noticed another car in the vicinity.”
Charlie nodded and set off.
Katy took a few steps over to the right and snapped on a pair of latex gloves, then bent down to pick up a clear evidence bag. “A wallet, well, what do you know?” She opened it and searched inside. His driving licence gave her all the information she needed. Katy jotted down the man’s name and address in her notebook, which she struggled to remove from inside her suit, then she replaced the wallet in the bag and returned to where Patti was crouching next to the corpse.
“Any good?” Patti asked.
“Yep, I’ve got his name and address, I’ll run it through the satnav. I don’t think he was too far from home, judging by the postcode I used to get out here.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe the perp was waiting for him, anticipating his arrival and pounced.”
“Seems a pretty logical theory to me. What else can you tell me? All that blood on his shirt, that wouldn’t just be from his eyes, would it?”
“No. He has several puncture wounds all over his chest.”
“Puncture wounds? Any idea what the perp’s choice of weapon could have been?”
“Something long and thin would be my guess at this time.”
“Long and thin, eh? Such as?”
“A large needle, knitting needle possibly, or even, dare I say it, an ice pick.”
“Jesus, do people genuinely carry around either of those things on a daily basis?”
“Not to my knowledge, which would back up my account of the perp lying in wait, ready to pounce.”
“So, premeditated?”
“Definitely, at least that’s what the evidence is leading me to believe at present.”
“How many times was he stabbed, roughly?”
“I haven’t had a chance to move him yet. Let me get the photos snapped off first and then I can turn him over, see what we can find there. Jeff, any chance you can get your finger out and get the pics taken, man?”
Jeff raised a hand and shouted, “Sorry, Patti. The camera is playing up. I’m trying to fix it. I shouldn’t be long.”
Patti cringed. “That’s all we ruddy need. Jeff, leave it and grab the one off the passenger seat in my van. I can’t wait around all day. Some of us want to get home to their beds tonight.”
“I hear you. Doing it now, Patti.”
Katy sniggered, and Patti narrowed her eyes at her.
“Don’t you start. Seriously, if men had brains, the world would be a bloody dangerous place to live in, I swear it would.”
“Don’t be too harsh on him, Patti, he was doing his best to fix it.”
“Bollocks, I’m always telling him off about fiddling with the equipment.” She lowered her voice. “He’s one of these types who insist on knowing how things work and takes great pleasure in taking things apart and putting them back together again. I’m not surprised the damn thing has given up the ghost and stopped working. Grr…he’s got me all worked up now. Today has been long enough as it is and…” She waved a hand to dismiss her anger. “Sorr
y, you don’t want to hear me whinge on about work colleagues.”
“Fill your boots. It’s better to vent about these things than let them surface as an ulcer, love.”
“Thanks, you’re too kind.”
Patti and Katy stepped back a few paces when Jeff finally materialised. He fired off dozens of photos of the victim, taken from different angles, some low to the ground and some with him towering above. Once he’d finished, he gave Patti the thumbs-up.
“Great, thanks.” Patti returned to the corpse and removed the eyes, slotting them into another evidence bag which she handed to Katy.
“Gee, I really appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Patti grinned. “Thought you might. Let’s turn him over and see what we’ve got.”
“Do you need a hand?”
“Nope, I’ve got this. Right.” Patti hoisted the man over onto his stomach and assessed the wounds on his back. “Only two puncture wounds, here and here. Seems to me, he was probably running from his attacker and then, what, ran out of puff? His courage emerged, and he decided to face the onslaught head-on? Hard to tell, could be either of those scenarios. Either way, it resulted in his death. An incredibly gruesome one at that.”
“Any signs of him fighting back?”
Patti checked under the man’s fingernails and shook her head, then placed a bag over each of the victim’s hands. “Nothing, but just in case there’s something lingering under there.”
“Poor man. So he was attacked in the middle of nowhere, not far from home. How often does that happen out here in the sticks?”
“My guess would be not that often at all. Still none the wiser as to who might have killed him. I can’t see any evidence or DNA around.”
“Why am I not surprised about that? Criminals are getting smarter by the day, too many CSI programmes on the TV. Probably guilty of giving the perps ideas how to kill their victims, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“All right, steady on. Let’s not cast aspersions just yet, not before I’ve carried out the PM.”
Charlie joined them, her notebook in her hand.
“Anything, Charlie?” Katy asked, her expectations rising.
“The gent was out for an evening walk and stumbled across the scene. He rang nine-nine-nine right away. Poor bloke said he puked over in the hedge not far from the victim. Had trouble holding it in, apparently.”
“Never mind, as long as we’re aware, eh, Patti?”
“Yep, always good to know.”
“I take it he didn’t see any vehicles in the vicinity at all?” Katy asked.
Charlie sighed. “Nope, nothing at all. He’s really sad. Dale Peters is one of his neighbours.”
“Shit! That’s tough. Could he tell you anything about the victim?”
Charlie flipped over a page. “He lives at four Downey Crescent, only a few miles up the road. He’s married to Adele and has five kids.”
“Fuckity fuck,” Patti said, letting out a whistle. “The poor wife is going to be devastated when she hears.”
“No kidding,” Katy added. “Five kids! Shit, I’m not looking forward to breaking the news. Bummer. The witness didn’t call the wife, did he?”
“No, he was tempted but thought better of it. Didn’t want that particular conversation preying on his mind for the rest of his life is how he put it.”
“I don’t blame him either. Crap. Okay, anything else, Charlie?”
“Nope, that’s about it from me.”
“All right, well, if you’ve got nothing else for us, Patti, we’d better go and break the news to his wife. Bloody hell, why did I have to take this case?”
Patti rubbed Katy’s arm to comfort her. “Now then, I have faith in you, Katy. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah, okay, I think I’ll be all right. Piss, after a long day at work, I just hope I don’t make any mistakes and mess everything up. It’s hard enough telling a loved one their spouse isn’t coming home again, let alone adding that he died a gruesome death.”
“My advice would be not to tell her. She won’t know about his eyes until any court case, there’s no need for her to hear about that from you, or me for that matter. Let’s not cloud the image she has of her husband.”
“Thanks. Come on, Charlie, let’s make a move before darkness descends.”
“I was thinking the same, we need to get a wriggle on and get this young, I’m using the term loosely here, man’s body back to base.”
“Will you do the PM tonight or leave it until the morning?” Katy asked.
“I’ll leave it. I’m shagged.” Patti grinned widely.
Katy and Charlie walked back to their cars and stripped off their protective suits. After depositing them into the black sack at the perimeter of the crime scene, they got back in their respective cars and began their onerous journey, having to turn back the way they had come to take another route to get to the Peters’ house.
Katy was impressed by the pretty pink cottage, the way it seemed to proudly dominate the plot it sat within. The quaint windows were topped off by a newly thatched roof which appeared to be the hair of the home but lacking a parting. Getting out of their vehicles, Katy sighed and said, “Lovely. This would be Mum and Dad’s ideal retirement home, not that they could afford anything as grand as this. It’s huge.”
“Well, their neighbour did say they have five kids. I suppose it has to be on the large side to fit seven people.”
“True enough. Can’t wait to see inside. Shit, what am I saying? I should bloody be preparing myself for the worst undertaking possible, and here I am, admiring the gaff and wondering what the inside looks like. Shame on me.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s human nature.”
“Let’s get on with it. Notebook to hand; let’s hope she can at least give us a clue or two as to who would carry out such a vile act on her husband.”
“We can live in hope, right?” Charlie’s expression was one of doubt, not hope.
“PMA when we go in there, if at all possible.”
Entering the garden via the squat wrought-iron gate, they strode up the narrow path with its display of cottage plants in a spectrum of colours, surrounding the patches of lawn on either side. Katy rang the bell, and they waited for the door to be answered. A blonde girl with pigtails, dressed in dungarees and a checked shirt, answered it a few seconds later.
“Hi, is your mum at home?”
Her eyes narrowed, and suspicion was evident in her tone. “Yeah, she might be. Who are you?”
Katy held up her ID. “We’re from the Met Police, DI Foster and DC Simpkins. Would you mind getting her for me, please?”
“Just a minute. I’m going to have to shut the door, Mum won’t allow me to let strangers into the house.”
“Do what you have to do.”
The door slammed, and the teenager’s shouting filtered out in the distance. The door was reopened a few moments later by a woman in her fifties. She seemed harassed and swept back a clump of hair that had escaped the bun sitting atop her head. She wiped her hands on the tea towel she was holding and frowned.
“Sorry, who are you? My daughter said you’re the police, is that right?”
“It is, Mrs Peters. Would it be possible for us to come in for a moment to speak with you?”
“Now isn’t a good time. We’re all running late. None of us have had dinner yet. My husband is delayed, Lord knows why, he hasn’t had the decency to ring me, but then, that’s nothing new. I’ve not long been in from work myself, and the kids…sorry, you don’t want to hear this crap. What’s this about?”
“Inside would be better.”
She stood behind the oak door and allowed them to enter. “You’ll have to speak to me while I finish preparing the cottage pie in the kitchen.”
“No problem.”
She led the way through the dimly lit hallway out to a large, bright extension at the back.
“This is lovely.” Katy admired the structure which was predominantly made from
glass and overlooked a spacious patio filled with an abundance of colourful pots.
“Thank you. It’s a new addition from three years ago. We spend most of our time out here instead of the lounge, which is very dark by comparison. Can I get you a drink?”
Katy smiled. “Thanks, but we’ll decline your kind offer, if you don’t mind.” She glanced over her shoulder to see five children of varying ages, anything from the teenage girl who had answered the door to a small boy of around three or four who was playing with a set of cars on the leather sofa in the TV area of the spectacular room.
“That’s up to you. Do you want to take a seat while I prepare the veggies?” Mrs Peters picked up a bag of carrots and carried them over to the marble-topped island a few feet away. She motioned at the stools tucked under the lip on the other side.
“Thank you. It would be better if you gave us your full attention.” Katy swallowed back the acid burning her throat. She knew that this woman’s world was about to be changed in an instant, and here she was, none the wiser, trying to do her best to look after her family’s needs.
Adele put the knife down and pushed the carrots to the side. “Okay, you’ve got it.”
Katy peered over her shoulder at the children and lowered her voice. “Perhaps it would be better if the children left the room, Mrs Peters.”
“What? No, you can’t ask me to tell them to leave. Just get on with it. You’ve disrupted our evening enough as it is. Say what you have to say and be on your way.”
Katy stared at her in disbelief, fearing she’d handled this all wrong. She clasped her hands together and placed them on the worktop. “Okay, it is with regret that we have to share the news that your husband’s body was found half…” She didn’t get any further because Mrs Peters fainted.
Katy and Charlie leapt off their stools to tend to the woman. The kids all started either shouting or screaming. The older girl, who had opened the door to them, rushed to her mother’s aid and fell to her knees.
“Mummy, please, Mummy, wake up.” She looked up, glared at Katy and shouted, “Why are you telling such lies? Our dad, where is he?”
