Pausing, she turned to her colleague who was checking his phone. ‘Ian, if it wasn’t an accident, what sort of person would push a man from an aircraft mid-flight? And go to all that trouble removing all his clothes and any identification first?’
He took a deep breath as he ran his gaze over the ancient gravestones to their left. ‘I hate to say it, but if you’re right, then I’m inclined to think they’ve killed before. It’s too calculated; too well planned.’
‘I know. Comparing the two scenarios, I’m sort of hoping it’s simply an accident that hasn’t been reported, and whoever’s involved is trying to distance themselves from whatever went wrong.’
‘You could say our victim flew under the radar, then,’ said Barnes, dimples appearing in his cheeks.
Kay narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Next time you’re buying lunch.’
Chapter Ten
Carys fell into step beside Sergeant Harry Davis, and buttoned up her jacket.
The steady drone of a light aircraft reached her, and she turned in time to see it trundle along the grass runway before lifting into the air.
There was an engineering hangar over on the far side of the car park behind a chain-link fence, the double doors wide open and the sound of machinery carrying across to where they walked. The whole aerodrome buzzed with a frantic activity, as if everyone was making the most of the break in the weather before a forecasted rain squall set in.
‘You all right?’ said Harry, shoving the car keys into his pocket. ‘You were a bit quiet on the way over.’
She smiled. ‘Yes, fine. Thanks – just thinking about the case, that’s all.’
‘It’s a weird one, isn’t it? Do you think Lucas is right, and our man took a tumble out of an aircraft?’
‘If that’s what the injuries point to, and his contact in London reckons it matches that stowaway from a few years ago, then I’m inclined to believe him.’
‘Horrible way to go.’ The older sergeant shivered, then brightened. ‘Mind you, it gets me out of uniform for a few days while I help you lot, so I’m not complaining.’
‘It’s crazy at the moment – I overheard Kay and Sharp talking last week, and Headquarters can’t provide them with any personnel. There aren’t enough graduates coming through the recruitment and training process, and there’s a freeze on promotions in West Division – or so I’ve heard.’
‘It’s the same in uniform,’ said Harry. ‘Too many shifts, and not enough of us to cover them. I’m going to have to go back and check the roster for the weekend as it is.’
Carys tilted her head and sniffed the air. ‘I can smell something cooking.’
‘There’s a café on the side of the main building there. Do you want to get a bite to eat before we make a start on the interviews?’
She eyed the picnic tables and umbrellas flapping in the cold wind that swept off the airfield beyond, and shook her head. ‘Afterwards. It smells good, doesn’t it?’
Harry held open the door into the aerodrome’s reception area for her, and she ran her eyes over the cork board fastened to the right-hand wall.
Colourful brochures depicted grinning tandem skydivers, arms outstretched as they tumbled through an azure sky. Next to those, a series of health and safety notices had been pinned side by side with more brochures offering flying lessons, air shows and more.
‘Morning – can I help you?’
She turned her attention to the man who stood behind the reception desk, his face eager. He was in his late thirties with straw-coloured hair a little on the long side, and his delight at the prospect of new customers dwindled when she withdrew her warrant card and made the introductions.
‘And you are?’ she said.
‘Michael Childs. I’m one of the instructors here. Is there a problem?’
‘Actually, we were hoping you might be able to help us. It’s regarding the parachuting club here. Is there anyone we could talk to about that?’
‘I might be able to answer your questions. I do some flying for the tandem skydivers at weekends if they’re a pilot short.’
‘Great, thanks.’ Carys pulled out an artist’s sketch that had been created using a composite of images of the victim’s face, and handed it over. ‘Do you recognise him?’
Childs took the sketch from her and raised an eyebrow. ‘Can’t say I do. Is he a pilot?’
‘We think he was a parachutist,’ said Harry. ‘Or a skydiver. At the moment, we’re trying to identify him.’
‘I don’t think he’s been here. I’ve been flying here for going on six years, and I know most of the regulars.’
‘Would you be able to provide us with a note of their names?’ said Carys.
‘I’ll have to check with the boss, but give me your email address and if he says it’s okay with him, then I’ll send them over.’
‘Thanks.’ She handed him one of her business cards and tucked the sketch back into her bag. ‘What about casual parachutists?’
‘You mean the ones that have gift cards and things for tandem jumps? Yes, we’re obliged to keep a record of all of them as well. We have to – they can’t jump without a medical certificate that’s been signed off by their usual doctor. No form, no fly, as we say.’
‘Is that right?’ Carys glanced at Harry, then back to Childs. ‘Look, this is going to sound strange, but what about people who want to do something a bit different when they jump?’
‘Like what?’
She felt heat rise to her cheeks under the green eyes of the flying instructor, but pressed on. ‘What if someone wanted to jump out of a plane naked?’
Childs let out a bellow of laughter, a guttural noise that echoed off the thin walls of the office. He wiped at his eyes, and smiled at her. ‘It’d be a brave man who tried that, let alone at this time of year.’
‘Never heard of someone doing that?’ said Harry.
‘No,’ said Childs, his face sobering. ‘And we wouldn’t allow it either. In fact, I wouldn’t imagine any club allowing that – not if they wanted to keep their licence. What’s all this about, anyway?’
‘I’m going to have to ask you to keep this confidential for the time being, as until we can identify him, we can’t let his family know, but we’re investigating the death of a man whose body was discovered in a field a couple of miles south of Sevenoaks,’ said Carys. ‘The last thing we want is for this to be leaked to the press – it’d be traumatic for his relatives.’
‘Not a problem, you can rely on me.’
‘Thanks. If you could let me know when you’ll be able to send over that list of club members, I’d appreciate it.’
‘No problem.’ He waved her business card at her, and smiled. ‘I’ve got your phone number and email.’
‘Cheers.’ Carys returned the smile and moved towards the door.
‘How tall did you say he was?’
She stopped and turned, her fingers on the door handle. ‘Just over six feet.’
‘Do you know what he weighed?’
She frowned, caught Harry’s quizzical expression, and then moved back to the counter. ‘Yes, nearly fifteen stone. Why?’
Childs frowned. ‘If that’s the case, then he wouldn’t have been allowed to jump. No pilot in their right mind would let him.’
‘Why not?’
‘We have weight restrictions in place – anyone over fourteen and a half stone is too heavy. He’d unbalance the aircraft when he jumped, and that can have catastrophic consequences for the pilot because it upsets the centre of gravity. It’s too dangerous.’
‘Is that the same at every club?’
‘It’s a British Parachuting Association rule. No getting around it, unless he was part of a private club.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Hell of a risk, though.’
‘Last question,’ said Carys, her pen poised over her notebook. ‘What about parachuting at night?’
‘God, no, not here – out of the question.’ Childs winked. ‘We leave that sort of malarkey to the Paras.’
Chapter Eleven
Kay rubbed at tired eyes and managed to smile as her investigation team swooped on the bacon and egg butties Debbie West had ordered from the café up the road.
One look at the volume of information that had been collated by the time their shift ended the night before, and she’d made the decision to call an early start in order to brief the team and sort out a roster for the weekend.
‘Bribing us, guv?’ said PC Phillip Parker. He lowered himself into a seat near the front of the semicircle of chairs that had been arranged near the whiteboard, and sank his teeth into the greasy snack.
‘As always,’ she said. ‘How did you get on yesterday?’
He swallowed, and licked his fingers. ‘We’ve finished collating the list of airfields, including anyone using private land to fly microlights and ultralights. We’ll get those into HOLMES2 this morning.’
‘Thanks, Phillip. Sounds like you have all the information under control.’
‘We’re getting there, guv.’
Kay rose from her perch on the table next to the whiteboard as the rest of the team began to crowd together. She nodded to Sharp who emerged from his office holding his mobile phone, and called the briefing to a start.
‘First of all, did anyone get a positive identification for our victim or a hint of who he might be from the statements you took yesterday?’
A rumble of negative responses met her question.
‘Never mind, I guess it was a long shot,’ she said. ‘In the meantime, I’ve received an email from Lucas Anderson this morning. Simon Winter has been running some tests on our victim’s vital organs, and had some interesting results to report. Apparently, our man was suffering from a degree of cardiovascular disease that could have contributed to chest pains or shortness of breath – as he was a large man anyway, he would’ve been starting to show signs of heart disease that, left untreated, could have proven fatal within two to three years without medical treatment.’
Carys raised her hand.
‘Yes?’
‘Guv, when we spoke to the receptionist at Headcorn aerodrome yesterday, he said that our victim was too heavy to be allowed to do a parachute jump. Given that he had a bad heart as well, and wouldn’t have been issued with a medical certificate to jump––’
‘It doesn’t appear to be the case that he left the aircraft of his own volition,’ said Kay. ‘What we now have to establish is whether he got into the plane by choice, or whether he was coerced or forced.’
‘He was a big bloke,’ said Barnes. ‘I can’t imagine he’d have got in the plane if he knew how it was going to end for him.’
Kay picked up the copy of the post mortem report she’d been reviewing. ‘Lucas does note in here that there were traces of fibres under the victim’s fingernails, and tears to the skin around his palms and fingertips. If there was a struggle, or he tried to cling on before falling to his death, then you might have a point there. Debbie – can you make sure you cross-reference that in HOLMES2? If we get to a point where we have enough evidence to support what Barnes has suggested, then we’re going to have to pull all the records for aircraft that have logged flight plans across this area and take a look at which interiors might match these fibres. Hopefully if we get to that point, the manufacturers will be able to help.’
‘Will do, guv.’
As the team dispersed back to their desks, Kay saw Sharp beckon to her.
She hurried over, and followed him into his office. ‘What’s wrong, guv?’
‘Shut the door, Kay, and take a seat. This could take a while to explain.’
The detective chief inspector wore a harried expression, his brow knotted in concentration as he collated briefing notes, meeting minutes and reports and then shoved them into the tray next to his computer screen.
His battered leather-upholstered chair creaked as he sat, and he leaned back, resting his hands on the pitted surface of the desk, and brushed imaginary dust from its surface.
Kay knew his army discipline meant he kept a cleaning cloth and furniture polish in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, but said nothing as he gathered his thoughts.
Finally, his gaze met hers.
‘Some of what I am about to tell you can’t be shared with the team,’ he said. ‘So, I’m trusting you to hear the whole story, and then we’ll decide between us what we can divulge in order to advance this investigation. Understood?’
‘Of course, guv.’ Kay placed her notebook and pen on the desk before folding her hands in her lap. ‘What is it?’
‘One of my old army contacts managed to trace the origins of that tattoo. As we suspected, only a handful of soldiers were thought to have had it, and because of that, it’s been pure luck we’ve got this lead.’ He drummed his fingers on the desk, then stopped. ‘I’ll try to keep it brief. Back in 1999, a team of specialists from an infantry regiment decided to infiltrate a known enemy stronghold in a town in Kosovo. I don’t know how much about the conflict you might recall, but it was a bloody mess.’
He blinked, and then exhaled. ‘Sorry. It was a while back, but––’
‘I didn’t know you were out there, guv.’
‘Only briefly, as part of an observation group.’ He shook his head, a sadness clouding his eyes. ‘So frustrating, not being allowed to do anything to help.’
Kay bit her lip, and lowered her gaze to her hands. After a few moments, Sharp cleared his throat.
‘The men who got that tattoo were rumoured to have had enough of what they’d seen. One night, they set out from a makeshift camp and headed for a mountain base that was one of three strongholds belonging to one of the organised crime gangs running loose.
‘Needless to say, the gangs had very little to do with the armed forces in that fractured country, but everything to do with black market goods that were being smuggled in and out including sex slaves – women and children – through Europe and into the Middle East.’
Kay’s jaw clenched. ‘The bastards. Did the soldiers stop them that night?’
Sharp shook his head and picked up a loose paperclip on his keyboard. ‘No, that was beyond their capabilities – there were only six of them against a contingent of at least twenty. My contacts can’t verify all the facts – after this many years, it is hard to decipher what’s true and what has descended into myth and legend. What is known is that those six men rescued fourteen women and children from that mountain base, escaped with no loss of life to that six-man team, and insisted that the refugees be convoyed out under cover of darkness the following night. Smuggled over the border to safety.’ He managed a smile. ‘As you can imagine, the shit hit the fan once the top brass found out, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it by then. They couldn’t exactly hand back the refugees to their captors – we all know what went on over there during that time.’
‘What happened to them?’ said Kay.
‘They were transported out with a convoy of medical supplies that morning – the base commander couldn’t wait to get rid of them. By then, it was pretty well known that the camp would be under surveillance by the cartel once word got out those refugees had been rescued and taken there, and the commander’s duty was to keep his men safe.’ He unwound the paperclip as he spoke, twisting the thin wire around his thumb. ‘Luckily, they got word through the network of translators and informants that the crime gang had moved on, and that they believed the women and children had tried to escape on their own but perished in the conditions on the mountain. They never knew the six-man team had been there.’
Kay’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Thank God. What about the men? The six soldiers who rescued them?’
Sharp cleared his throat and reached out for a glass of water beside his desk phone. Taking a sip, he contemplated her over the rim of the glass before setting it down.
‘That’s where it gets interesting,’ he said. ‘Obviously, the camp commander couldn’t afford to let the word get out about what they’d done – it would be inviting retaliation
on the base and the rest of his men. By the same token, he couldn’t be seen to condone what the six men under his leadership had done – otherwise they’d have all been off doing their own rescue missions, and putting the whole of the tentative ceasefire talks at risk.’
‘So, what did he do?’
‘The only sensible option open to him, and one that he knew would be supported by his superiors. He discharged all six of them. Set them packing back to the UK three days later. Rumour has it that they were debriefed at Brize Norton on arrival, ordered not to speak about their mission to anyone under threat of prosecution, and told that they had lost all their rights to their army pension for insubordination and putting their colleagues’ lives at risk.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Kay. ‘But they were heroes.’
‘Maybe, but they couldn’t be trusted to follow orders,’ said Sharp. ‘Think of it this way – what if the enemy’s men did see those women and children in a British Army camp? What would have happened then?’
‘What happened to the soldiers?’ said Kay. ‘Did they simply go their separate ways?’
‘Eventually, according to my contact. They were allowed off base after the debriefing sessions, until all the paperwork was signed off. That’s when he thinks they got the tattoos – to remind them of what they’d done. Despite everything, they believed it was the right thing to do.’
Kay ran a hand through her hair. ‘Jesus, guv. That’s a hell of a story, but how does it help us? Did your contact have a note of their names?’
Sharp’s mouth narrowed. ‘Unfortunately, not. Like I said, it’s hard to fathom how much of the story has become urban legend, rather than fact. However, he was able to ascertain that one of the men came from the Thanet area, and that he was in the infantry regiment for a time before being discharged.’ He held up his hand. ‘And, before you ask, no – we don’t have a name or contact details because the file is sealed. No-one is looking at that for at least another fifty years.’
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