by Helen Phifer
He turned to see the DCI strolling across the car park towards him.
‘Morning, boss.’
‘How are you? It’s been a while.’
‘To be honest, I’ve been better. This is a mess.’
‘It might be a mess, but thanks to you we know there is a killer out there who is responsible for three deaths. I also believe we have three possible suspects ready to be interviewed, so it’s not that big a mess. Well done, Josh.’
He followed Paul inside. If it hadn’t been for Beth, they wouldn’t have known any of this. He wanted to talk to her, to apologise, tell her everything that had happened and let her know that none of it was her fault. Because she was even better at blaming herself when things went wrong than he was. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.
I’m sorry. Xxx
Then pushed it back into his pocket. He didn’t know if it would do any good; he didn’t have time to go and see her: there were three suspects to interview and a post-mortem to attend, but before any of that a briefing to give to his team.
Fifty-Four
Satisfied the body could be moved, Beth went downstairs and introduced herself to Tamara’s grief-stricken parents. They were an older couple, much older than she’d expected. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ She held out her hand, shaking both of theirs. ‘I’m Doctor Adams, the pathologist. I’ll be looking after your daughter.’
The woman, her head bent, didn’t make eye contact. Her husband stared, his head moving up and down as he struggled to find a voice. He rasped, ‘Thank you. We don’t know what happened. She went to a friend’s party then messaged Angela to say she was home, around half past ten.’
Beth made a mental note of the time; it was likely that Tamara had died not long after that message.
‘Angela is always a bag of nerves until we know Tam is home safe, so when we got the message we relaxed and drank a lot more than usual. It was a friend’s sixtieth birthday, so the champagne was flowing. We didn’t get home until around three and the house was in darkness. We assumed she was asleep. She’s our only daughter, we waited so long, all those years for her to arrive and now she’s…’
His voice caught in the back of his throat and he took a moment to compose himself. ‘She’s eighteen you know and very independent; if we’d opened her door to check on her, she would have been furious with us. We stopped doing that a long time ago. If only we had.’
There was a long silence as he tried to come to terms with this. His wife began to sob.
‘We should have checked on her, Bill, why didn’t we? We let her down.’
He sat next to her, pulling her close. ‘We haven’t checked on her since she was eleven, Ange, why would we? She’d already messaged to say she was home and safe. You don’t expect your teenage daughter to drop down dead; no one expects that.’
‘I don’t know the exact reason for Tamara’s death at this moment. I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a full forensic post-mortem. I’ll be able to tell you exactly what happened once it’s completed.’
Angela was shaking her head. ‘I don’t want you to cut my baby girl up. It’s bad enough she’s dead.’
Bill kissed his wife’s cheek. ‘We don’t have a choice. The doctor has to do her job. We need to know what happened. I can’t bear the thought that she might have been lying there for hours needing help and we didn’t hear her.’
Beth spoke, her voice gentle. ‘I don’t think that your daughter suffered too much. I think it was quite sudden judging by the way she is lying on the floor. It looks as if she collapsed, where you found her. If she’d lain there suffering, she would have tried to move, to reach a phone, to call out to you. The bedcovers would be messy where she’d tried to pull herself up. There is nothing to indicate that she did.’
She stood up, hoping this assumption was the right one. Secondary drowning was painful; inhaled water causes airway muscles to spasm. Fluid can then build up in the lungs, which causes trouble breathing. It would have been excruciating for a short time, but they didn’t need to know that. Regardless of what she told them, they would spend the rest of their lives blaming themselves for not being there, when in reality even if they had found her straight away it was highly likely she would have been dead before she hit the floor. All the money or love in the world couldn’t change what had happened.
‘I’ll be in touch; I really am so very sorry for your loss.’
There was an even older woman hovering around in the doorway to the lounge. At first glance Beth would have said grandmother, but then she realised the woman had a uniform on. A housekeeper maybe? Whoever she was, her eyes were as red-rimmed as Angela Smythson’s and it was obvious she was very close to the family. As Beth passed her, she smiled and whispered, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Then she was striding towards the open front doors, walking down the steps towards her car, inhaling the crisp autumn air and clearing her mind, expelling the emotions she’d just absorbed from the grief-stricken family. If she didn’t, they would hang around inside clogging up her mind, and she couldn’t afford to lose focus. A third girl had died as a result of being in that goddamn lake and Beth was determined there would not be another death.
Fifty-Five
Beth made a detour on the way to the hospital; Josh had looked beside himself and she hadn’t felt as if she could comfort him. It wasn’t supposed to be this way: she loved him but would not be made a fool of. The only person who could answer her questions and put her mind at rest one way or the other was Jodie. She turned into her street once more. This time Josh’s car was nowhere to be seen. It was likely that he wouldn’t be leaving work for many hours yet. She questioned herself before she got out of the car. Should you be doing this? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted a straight answer. She could deal with the consequences once she knew what was happening. Wearily, she knocked on Jodie’s door, a part of her hoping that she wouldn’t answer, tempted to turn around before she could get the door opened.
‘Beth, what are you doing here?’
‘Sorry to bother you, have you got five minutes?’
The door opened further and Beth stepped into the narrow hallway. It smelt of vanilla cupcakes as she followed Jodie into the cosy kitchen and Beth couldn’t help but envy how homely it felt. Painted pale lemon with cream shaker-style units, there were fairy lights and bunting everywhere.
‘You have a lovely home.’
Jodie laughed. ‘It’s not much, but I like it. I’ve made the most of what I have I suppose.’
Beth smiled at her. ‘That’s all we can do, isn’t it? Make the best of what we have.’ She noticed the row of prescription bottles and the plastic container marked with days of the week.
‘So, what brings you here?’
The question echoed in her head.
‘I, erm. It’s a bit awkward really. Things have been a bit strained between me and Josh. He hasn’t been coming home and I wondered if he’d decided to come back to you.’
Jodie looked at her in wide-eyed horror. ‘Oh, God. He didn’t tell you, did he? He’s such an idiot at times.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘It’s my fault. I was the one who got in touch with him. I wouldn’t have, but I really had no one else to ask. It’s a bit sad when you have to ask your ex to give you a hand.’
‘I don’t understand. Are you two sleeping together again?’
‘No, absolutely not. I – I have leukaemia and ended up in hospital after almost overdosing myself. They said I couldn’t come home unless I had someone to keep an eye on me. Josh was the only person I could think of who wouldn’t mind me looking a state and feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t expect him to say yes. I did hope he would because I’ve spent too long stuck in hospital. I was being selfish. I wanted to come home. I don’t understand why he didn’t tell you though?’
Beth shrugged; neither did she. ‘Oh, Jodie, I’m so sorry to hear that. That must be so awful for you to cope with all alone. Of course
Josh should help you out. I’m so sorry, there was me thinking you were sleeping together…’
Jodie laughed. ‘We didn’t sleep together much when we were married and we’re definitely not sleeping together now; his stuff is in the spare room. Go and see for yourself, there’s nothing to hide. What an idiot.’
‘He can be. Tell me, how are you doing?’
‘I’m doing much better. I have a bad knee which gives me more pain than my bloody illness, but everything seems to be going the right way, albeit slowly.’
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’
‘Do you want me to find out what he’s playing at next time I see him?’
‘No, thank you. That’s for me to sort out. I do appreciate the offer though.’ She smiled at her and stood up. ‘I have to go, I’m on call.’
‘I don’t know how you do it, cutting up all those dead bodies. I don’t know how Josh does it either, working all those long hours to find people responsible for the terrible stuff you both have to deal with.’
‘I wouldn’t do anything else.’
At the front door, Jodie called after her as she walked down the path.
‘You and Josh, you make a good team. A good couple as well, you’re both suited to each other. Give him a chance. I made a mess of things, but he’s a good man and I know he loves you. More than he ever loved me.’
She closed the door, and Beth felt her eyes prickle with tears. How strange to get relationship advice from the ex-wife of the man you were in love with. She was right though; they did make a good team and she loved him more than anything. She hoped he still felt the same way about her. When this case was over, she was going to make an effort to sort everything out. She didn’t want to imagine her life without him in it. She felt better now she knew what was going on; she could focus all her energy and attention on helping to catch a killer.
Fifty-Six
Everyone who needed to be present for the briefing was present: Sykes, Paton, Sam, Bell and the DCI. Josh sipped from his mug of cold coffee and stood in front of the whiteboard.
‘This started off as what we assumed was the accidental drowning of Leah Burton, found on Thursday morning by Ethan Scales, who was on the boat owned by James Marshall.’
The DCI asked: ‘Marshall of Marshall estate agents?’
Josh nodded. ‘The body of Julia Bach washed up the same day. The pathologist, who was the one to originally raise questions about the circumstances of both deaths, believes that Julia died first, due to the decomposition and bloating. She must have sunk to the bottom of the lake and got caught up on something. Once decomp was in full swing it caused the body to fill and bloat with gas from putrefaction and then to rise to the surface. We have trace evidence which although not confirmed yet suggests they both came in contact with the same boat – one that isn’t The Tequila Sunrise – at some time before death. Finally, last night, Tamara Smythson told me she was pushed off the same boat Burton was on, The Tequila Sunrise; she fell into the water. I pulled her out along with one of the lake wardens. Tragically, she died not long after I dropped her off at home, and yes I did offer to take her to the hospital. Dr Adams believes she died from secondary drowning, but can’t say for sure until the PM has been completed.’
There was a cacophony of gasps and sighs from around the room. Sykes spoke.
‘What’s secondary drowning? How do you drown when you’re not in the water?’
‘I’d never heard of it either until Beth mentioned it, and I asked Google. Apparently, it can happen up to twenty-four hours after someone has swallowed even the smallest amount of water. It goes into the lungs, making breathing difficult, and then it kills you.’
Paton sat up straight. ‘Shit, that’s terrible.’
Josh nodded. ‘When I spoke to Tamara, she said she had felt someone shove her from behind, and she lost her balance in the high-heeled shoes she was wearing and fell into the lake. Response took everyone’s details before they left the boat last night. However, none of the guests at the party had ever been on board before last night. But there are two, possibly three, people who have been on or around the boat at each drowning event: James Marshall; Ethan Scales, a school friend who sometimes helps him out; and Marcus Johnson, who was caught by Ethan sexually assaulting Tamara below deck. All three have been brought in and are currently waiting to be interviewed.’
Paul nodded. ‘Excellent work. Have they been arrested?’
‘Only Marcus Johnson. The other two have been brought in to give witness statements. I want to hear what they all have to say and take it from there. Personally, the person I’m most interested in is Johnson. He has the motive and the previous for sexual harassment according to one of his employees. Julia Bach worked for Johnson and had complained previously about his behaviour to colleagues. Again, that gives him motive and a connection to two of the victims. At this moment in time I can’t say whether he knew Leah Burton, so we’ll work on the evidence that we have. Sam and I will interview Marshall. Sykes and Paton, you can interview Johnson; Bell, I want you to take Scales. The other two will lawyer up straight away; they can afford to. Is everyone okay with that?’
They all nodded. Josh grabbed the black leather portfolio he used for interviews. Technically James and Ethan weren’t under arrest and were helping with their enquiries, so they were free to leave whenever they wanted. He just hoped they didn’t realise that too soon. He was hoping that by interviewing all three of them at the same time none of them could change their stories or come up with some watertight alibi. If they thought that each of them was singing like a canary, they were more liable to give away any pertinent information. He didn’t want to rush this, he wanted to make sure that he had the facts straight and the right person in custody when the time came. He wanted revenge for the death of feisty, pretty Tamara Smythson. He’d taken a liking to her and her death weighed heavily on him. Until he found out who had killed her, he would live with the guilt as if he’d pushed her into the water himself.
Fifty-Seven
As Beth walked into the mortuary she was glad to see Abe standing there holding out a mug of strong builder’s tea in one hand and a chocolate biscuit in the other. He smiled at her.
‘It’s been all of almost thirty-six hours since I last saw you; how the hell are you, Beth?’
She grinned, took the mug and gave him a thumbs up. ‘Truthfully, I’ve been a whole lot better but I’m alive, which is more than can be said for the poor girl who should be arriving anytime soon.’
‘It’s a bad one?’
She nodded. ‘Very bad, tragic really as it could have been avoided. She went into the water from that stupid bloody boat The Tequila Sunrise.’
‘Did she drown then?’
‘Not straight away. It’s a long story, but Josh was on a boat with a lake warden. They saw her go in and pulled her out. She refused hospital treatment, was taken home and collapsed and died not long after.’
Abe whistled through his brilliant-white teeth. ‘Oh, that’s sad.’
Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the back doorbell; it echoed throughout the mortuary, making both of them start. Beth laughed. ‘Gets me every time.’
Abe grinned at her. ‘I’ll do the honours.’ Then he went to open the double doors to let the private ambulance carrying the body back up to them so it could be brought inside discreetly.
Beth wondered if Josh was attending or if he’d send someone else.
As she was walking into the female changing room, she saw the double doors of the corridor open and Detective Chief Inspector Paul O’Neill walk through them.
‘Beth, how are you? It’s been a while.’
‘I’m good, yourself?’
He shrugged. ‘Apart from bloody awful indigestion I’m very good. Josh can’t make it, he has three people to coordinate interviews for.’
She hadn’t really expected him to come and felt relieved. It would have been awkward, and Abe, who was very astute, would have picked up on t
he atmosphere between them. It also wouldn’t have been very nice for Josh; she knew he was blaming himself for the girl’s death. He’d saved her; it would be too much to see her cut open and her organs dissected. It was okay for Beth, she got to work on people she didn’t know, had never met. It didn’t get personal for her, apart from with Robert and Charles had ensured she hadn’t had to endure watching his post-mortem. For a moment she felt bad she’d been so pushy with the man; he’d only been doing his job and protecting her from herself. At times she was her own worst enemy.
She scrubbed and gowned up, hoping the duty CSI would be here soon. She didn’t want to delay; she wanted to get this done and the results sent off. They didn’t have to wait long; Claire came into the mortuary a few moments after Beth.
‘Good afternoon, Claire, thank you for getting here so promptly.’
‘My pleasure, Beth, I was only lying on the sofa watching Star Wars. I love being on call.’
Beth smiled. ‘Don’t we all. Are we ready to begin?’
A chorus of ‘yes’ echoed around the freezing cold room. The girl had already been identified at her home by her parents, which saved the hassle of waiting for someone to come and ID her. Beth pushed the pained faces of Tamara’s mum and dad from her mind and got to work. She knew how important it was to capture any evidence and get it sent off; they couldn’t afford for anyone else to die. This had to stop now. Beth took some comfort knowing that in the next few hours anything she could find would help to catch the bastard who had done this.
Fifty-Eight
Ethan sipped at the plastic cup of water he’d been given by the custody nurse to help wash down two paracetamol. He had the sweats; it was too warm in this small room, his shirt was too tight and the taste of stale whiskey in the back of his throat didn’t seem to want to go away. This was the second time he’d been in one of these rooms with a stinking hangover. He was through with drinking and hanging around with both his so-called friends.
