No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3

by C. J. Grayson

  Along the back wall, were two low-level sinks, with emergency cleaning fluids and an eyewash station fixed to the wall. Next to the sink, was a metal tray used to place objects such as body parts or other not very pleasant materials on. Beside the tray, was storage shelving and a cupboard clearly labelled, filled with chemicals the pathology staff needed to use. Further down there was another sink which could be used to wash hands, and beyond that, a door that led to a small corridor where there was a toilet and shower facilities for staff before or after their shift.

  ‘Let’s begin,’ said Hemsley, stopping at the table next to the coroner Peter Gibbs.

  Hope and Tallow moved along to make room for Byrd and Tanzy, exchanging professional nods but didn’t say anything. They focused on Hemsley.

  ‘After inspecting these parts yesterday and running the tests we needed to, I can confirm these parts belong to the same person. We know, however, this doesn’t make a complete human body, so as we assume, there are other parts out there that are yet to be found. The interesting thing I found was, as Jacob and Emily pointed out, is that this is very unusual.’

  Byrd frowned. ‘Unusual how?’

  ‘Well, let me start by what we know. It’s a woman. Without having the head here or the pelvic bone, I know this because of the size of the hands. They belong to a female who’s somewhere between a teenager up to her thirties. It’s fully grown and the skin also tells me her age.’

  ‘Sorry, Doctor, if I may – how can you tell?’

  Hemsley paused, looking at Tanzy. ‘After you hit your twenties, the skin on your hands show signs of losing moisture. As you know, older people lose oils and minerals in their skin – we see in our parents and grandparents if they’re lucky enough to still be with us. They often use hand creams to replenish the oils lost that, unfortunately, come with growing old.’

  ‘How have the parts been cut, Doctor?’ asked Byrd.

  ‘The cut lines appeared to be from an electric cutter or something you’d used to cut meat. Not your average household cutting device but something stronger to get through the bone. Each part has been cut the same way. To make these cuts, the person had time on their hands. They weren’t rushed. Each cut shows the same pattern on the flesh and was done at a slow pace.’

  Tallow and Hope knew this, as they’d been briefed on this beforehand, assuming something similar. They weren’t experts on dismembering parts of the body but they were aware and fully understood the science and process behind it.

  ‘But… each part is different. Each part tells us something unique.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Tanzy, with a quizzical frown.

  ‘This person has been tortured before they were cut up,’ Hemsley replied. He then leaned over, pointing to one of the hands. ‘See that mark?’

  Byrd and Tanzy leaned closer.

  ‘This is a burn mark. It looks like it’s been done with some kind of blowtorch.’

  ‘Something a plumber would use to heat and solder a joint?’

  Hemsley looked up at Byrd. ‘Exactly. And this part.’ He pointed to a piece of flesh. They remembered from the scene where Tallow had said it could have been the top of someone’s leg. ‘This has been crushed. Something’—he raised his hands in the air, his palms facing each other, and moved them closer—‘has crushed this part.’

  ‘Like a vice?’ Tanzy said, tilting his head.

  A nod from Hemsley. ‘Something like that, yes. The skin is stretched and muscles have elongated. And see here…’

  The detectives looked at where he pointed. ‘Bruises on the skin,’ he went on. ‘This, which we know is the forearm, had been strapped. I doubt the victim wore her watch that tight. She’s been tied down to something while this happened to her.’

  ‘Do we know the victim yet?’ Byrd asked Tallow.

  ‘We do. It’s Lorraine Eckles. One of the missing four women we are looking for,’ Tallow said.

  When the four women had gone missing, Byrd and Tanzy had requested samples of their DNA to be taken from their homes, with the permission of their family, to hold on the database in case they potentially found something they could match it with. Unfortunately for Lorraine Eckles and her family, the DNA of this female matched with hers.

  Byrd sighed heavily and hung his head. ‘So, we have found one of them.’

  Across the table, Peter Gibbs looked confused.

  ‘Sorry. There were four women who went missing at the same time last weekend. They haven’t been seen or located.’ Byrd pointed to the table. ‘Until now. We’ve found one of them.’

  ‘Question is,’ said Tanzy, ‘will we find the others in time before they end up like this?’

  45

  Wednesday Afternoon

  Police Station

  When Byrd and Tanzy returned to the station they grabbed a coffee from the canteen and made their way through the office to their desks. They found Linda Fallows sat across the walkway at the desk, on the phone, speaking quietly. They heard a little of the conversation which sounded like she was giving someone instructions on what time to feed a pet.

  She ended the call, put the phone down, and said, ‘Hey. How was it?’

  Because she wasn’t officially employed directly by Durham Constabulary, she wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital to see the body parts, so stayed at the office to do some research.

  ‘How you getting on?’ asked Byrd, passing her, placing his coffee down on his desk.

  She stood up, went over to them. ‘I’ve made a list of places.’ She showed Byrd and Tanzy the list.

  ‘What’s this?’ said Tanzy, peering down at the paper on the desk she’d put in front of them.

  ‘Well, as I believe we are waiting on earth and water, I’ve made a list of ways someone could die by water. The most obvious is drowning. I’ve listed the rivers and ponds in the local area.’

  ‘Must have taken a while,’ said Tanzy.

  She nodded. ‘I’ve also been in touch with Jennifer Lucas at the Town Hall asking if these places are monitored with the town’s CCTV system.’

  Tanzy was impressed, eyeing the places on the list.

  South Park Lake.

  Brinkburn Pond Nature Reserve.

  Drinkfield Marsh Nature Reserve.

  Cleasby Lake.

  River Tees.

  River Skerne.

  The list went on and on.

  ‘What did Jennifer say?’ Tanzy asked her, noticing ticks next to some of them.

  ‘The ones with the ticks have CCTV in the nearby area.’

  ‘Good work,’ Byrd said to her, nodding. He meant it. It was refreshing to see someone doing something off their own back instead of being asked. ‘I’m going to see the rest of the team, give them an update on what the pathologist found.’

  He stood up to walk away when she said, ‘What did they find?’

  Byrd stopped, turned, and looked down on her. ‘Four women went missing last weekend. Forensics checked the DNA and it matched with one of them.’

  Fallows genuinely appeared sad, tucking a few strands of long blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Anything about the four elements?’

  ‘Vic had been burned in various places. Other parts suggested they’d been squeezed or compressed in some way. Apart from that, no.’

  Fallows nodded and Byrd walked away. He came to DC Leonard’s desk first, who was sitting on the right, tapping away at his keyboard. He pulled the seat out and sat down, gave a quick recap of what happened at the hospital. When he finished, he got up and went to DS Stockdale who was sitting a few rows past Leonard.

  ‘Phil…’

  Stockdale jumped, quickly tapping a few buttons on his phone, and threw it down on the desk. Whatever he was doing, it was obvious he didn’t want Byrd to know about it.

  Byrd frowned at his unusual behaviour. ‘Have you done your report?’

  Stockdale started moving around, organising items on his desk, and stared at his computer monitor, which was open on his emails. ‘Not yet. Just doing it now
, sir.’

  ‘Show me…’

  ‘Show you?’

  ‘The report you said you were just doing?’ Byrd edged closer. Stockdale didn’t move. It was obvious he was trying to come up with something quick. ‘You weren’t doing a report. You were on your phone. So don’t lie to me.’

  Stockdale’s face reddened. ‘I er – I was just messaging a cousin.’

  ‘Would you be happy for IT to check that?’ Byrd grabbed the nearest empty chair and sat down next to him. By Stockdale’s lack of answer, he assumed that was a no. ‘Listen, Phil. I know Orion has been over this with you a few times now. What you need to remember is that you’re here to work. You get a decent wage. Fuller is pressing Orion and me about these individual reports and thinks you guys are not doing enough.’

  Stockdale was about to reply when Byrd stuck a palm up to silence him.

  ‘I know you have issues at home. With your marriage.’

  Stockdale gave a small nod and looked away for a moment.

  ‘And I know the gambling issue. How is that going?’

  Stockdale sighed a little, his shoulders giving away the answer before he spoke. He said, ‘I’ll be honest…’

  ‘That’s what we want, Phil.’

  ‘Not good at the moment. I bet most days. The missus is talking about us separating and me finding somewhere else to live. If I don’t change.’

  Byrd wasn’t a betting man. He knew from his earlier years wasting money in betting shops there was only one winner when it came to betting. The odds were never good enough. But he also understood the addiction. Similar to smoking, or drinking, or vaping, it became something your mind and body tricked you into believing you needed.

  ‘Listen, it’s easy for me to say never do it again because I don’t share that addiction. So, I won’t. Ideally, you should, but I know it isn’t as simple as that. You know the number you need to call, don’t you?’

  In the police, it’s known that almost half of the police force, at some point in the last five years, have taken sick leave due to a mental illness. Policing is both demanding and stressful, seeing and witnessing potentially traumatic situations daily can take its toll, driving individuals to do things they wouldn’t normally. However, they must be aware, that there is help available if needed. More often than not, members of the police don’t seek this help because they tell themselves they need to be strong and capable to do their job correctly. What they should understand is by addressing any issues and getting the help required, they can get better and have a bigger positive impact on the community there are working in.

  Stockdale nodded. ‘I know the number, sir. Thanks.’

  ‘Don’t hesitate to call it. You have mine and Orion’s support.’ Byrd stood up. ‘Once you finish the report, send it to Fuller. He’s wanting to read it, okay?’

  ‘Boss,’ he replied with a nod, then pulled himself in to start the report.

  Byrd patted his back and moved on, looking across the office. He was about to get DC Cornty’s attention but PC Weaver walked towards him from the right, carrying a cardboard box, roughly a foot by a foot in size.

  ‘Boss, this is for you,’ Weaver said.

  Byrd frowned. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t see through the box, sir.’ Weaver smiled.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Weaver nodded, returned to her desk, and Byrd carried the box back to his desk.

  After Tanzy asked Jennifer Lucas about the mysterious blue van, he was disappointed to hear she couldn’t trace it. She said she’d contacted Cleveland police and explained the situation, then received some contact details for the individual who worked the cameras in the Cleveland area, who told her they’d get straight on it.

  ‘Are there any cameras before it changes to Cleveland after the body parts fell from the van?’

  ‘There’s nothing. Seven cameras were installed on the A66 closer to Middlesbrough to monitor traffic and help with the infrastructure but that was a year or two back. Angela, the woman I spoke with, said she’ll check the cameras to that nearest point and let me know if she finds the blue van.’

  ‘Okay, thanks. Good work,’ said Tanzy.

  ‘We haven’t found it yet…’

  ‘You will, I have faith,’ he replied.

  ‘Hey, need to go. I’ll be in touch.’

  The line went dead and Tanzy placed his phone back into his pocket.

  Byrd came back with the box that PC Weaver had handed him. ‘What did Jennifer say?’

  ‘She hasn’t located it yet. Said there are no cameras where it happened. She’s contacted Cleveland Police and spoken to a woman who monitors the cameras, who’ll be in touch when they find it.’

  ‘Good…’ Byrd placed the box on his desk to the right of his keyboard and pulled his chair over to sit down.

  ‘What’s in the box?’ Tanzy frowned. It wasn’t often they got deliveries.

  ‘Weaver has just handed it to me. I’m not sure. It’s quite heavy.’

  The cardboard box was sealed at the top with what appeared to be sellotape. On the side, it had a large, printed label saying, ‘DI Max Byrd, Darlington Police Station, Durham Constabulary’.

  ‘Ooo, I’m excited,’ Tanzy said, edging closer.

  Byrd peeled off the tape and opened up the flap to look inside. He immediately took a step back.

  ‘What is it, Max?’

  Byrd didn’t reply. He just stared inside.

  ‘Max, what’s in the box?’ Tanzy said, this time louder.

  After Byrd didn’t reply again, Tanzy pushed his chair out, stood up, and leaned in to have a look. ‘Here, let me have – Jesus Christ!’ Tanzy stumbled back a little and gasped. ‘What the hell.’

  46

  Wednesday Afternoon

  Police Station

  DCI Fuller walked out of his office to find Byrd and Tanzy both stood, staring into the box.

  Fuller frowned, wondering what they were doing. ‘What’s up?’

  Byrd and Tanzy didn’t acknowledge him.

  Fallows, who was sitting at the desk across the walkway, stopped typing and looked over, curious to what had grabbed their attention.

  ‘Max? Orion?’ Fuller edged forward. ‘What are you looking at?’

  Byrd placed his palms on top of his head and sighed.

  A few people sitting at nearby desks also stopped typing and glanced over, intrigued. Fuller came up behind them. ‘Hey, what’s in the—’

  He fell silent immediately, seeing the contents of the box.

  ‘I think we need Tallow and Hope…’ whispered Byrd. He took a step back, grabbed his phone, and made the call. ‘Jacob, we need you and Emily in the office right now.’ He then explained to him what was inside the box and Tallow told him not to touch anything and they’d be straight there.

  The back end of the office, apart from Tallow and Hope, had been cleared. Fuller, Byrd, Fallows, and Tanzy had moved closer to the front, telling people what they’d found in the box. Weaver gasped, placing her hands to her mouth, disgusted she’d handled the box before handing it over to Byrd.

  ‘Who does it belong to?’ DC Leonard asked them.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Tanzy said, who seemed to be in a daze.

  ‘I think it’s her. Judging by the photo.’ Byrd pointed down at Weaver's computer. ‘Get up the pictures of the missing women. The one we sent over to the media.’

  Weaver nodded, pulled herself into her desk, and typed with trembling hands. Within a few moments, the four images were up on her screen. She slid along to make space for Byrd and Tanzy who leaned forward to look at them.

  ‘It could be her…’ Tanzy said.

  Byrd stood and looked over to his desk. Tallow waved him over.

  ‘Max, we’ll take the box to the lab,’ said Tallow when he was within earshot, It’ll give us a chance to get some fingerprints off it. We’ll also get a blood sample from it and send it to the hospital to see if it matches with who we think it is.’

  Byrd st
ared in the box at the human head. She had long, matted dark hair. The cut had been just under the chin, showing thick clots of blood and multiple severed tendons.

  ‘That okay?’ Tallow said.

  Byrd snapped out of his daze and focused on Tallow. ‘Let us know what you find.’

  Tallow nodded and, with gloved hands, carefully picked up the box and made his way through the office back to the forensics lab. All eyes were on Tallow and the box in his hands.

  Tanzy returned to his desk and asked Byrd, ‘You alright?’

  Byrd nodded. ‘Yeah. What the hell is going on in this town?’

  ‘Never a dull day in Darlington, Max, you know that.’

  47

  Wednesday Evening

  Low Coniscliffe

  ‘Thanks for tea,’ said Byrd, walking into the living room, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts.

  From the sofa, in her usual spot, Claire said, ‘No problem.’

  The curtains were drawn but the room was still well-lit from the remaining daylight outside.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Byrd asked. ‘You look a little pale.’ Instead of sitting down, he padded over to her and placed his hand on her cheek. ‘You’re quite warm.’

  ‘I don’t feel very good, to be honest. Haven’t felt right all day.’

  Byrd offered to run her a bath but she declined, saying it would make her feel too hot and sick. She’d rather stay in front of the television for the night, watching Lost with Matthew Fox, an American show she’d never seen before but heard it was good from one of her friends. Byrd hadn’t seen it but watched it for a little while, occasionally glancing at her, concerned how pale she looked.

  ‘You sure you’re okay?’

  She turned her head slowly to him and managed a thin smile. ‘I’m fine, Max. Just tired I think.’

  ‘I can take you to bed if you want, get settled for the night. You can watch the television up there?’