‘Guv.’
Edwards hurried away, barking orders to his colleagues and relaying Kay’s instructions.
Kay moved so she could see past Gavin and down the High Street towards the old Town Hall. Along the length of pavement on each side of Market Square, people stopped and stared. A mixture of curious glances and openly eager faces greeted her, and she knew from experience that it would only be a matter of time before a crowd began to gather, especially if the office workers opposite had already managed to film anything of interest and upload it to social media.
If they didn’t manage the situation properly, the town centre would soon be reduced to gridlock.
Running feet drew her attention back to the taped-off perimeter in time to see four uniformed officers hurry across the street and into the building.
‘At least they haven’t got the body on camera,’ Gavin muttered.
‘Thank goodness. Who’s got the clipboard, Debbie?’ said Kay, calling out to a female officer who hovered at the doorway to the software company’s premises, several metres away from where they stood.
‘Aaron, guv,’ said Debbie. ‘He’s had to give Sergeant Hughes a hand with the barrier. Won’t be a minute.’
Despite her impatience at wanting to enter the crime scene, even Kay’s rank wouldn’t stand her in good stead if she broke with protocol and lifted the tape that stretched between a lamp-post and a gutter bolted to the ragstone brickwork.
‘What else do we know about this morning’s events?’ she said to Gavin, lowering her chin until she sensed the soft fabric of her jacket, then exhaling to create a warm cocoon of air to offset the morning chill.
‘No-one knew the body was there until it fell through the ceiling, guv. Apparently, a fault in the ducted air conditioning was reported last week and the bloke who installed it – Spencer White – couldn’t get here until today.’
‘What sort of fault?’ said Kay.
‘The system packed up. No air going through the building at all. Being an old bank, and given the amount of traffic that goes by here every day, the windows can’t be opened – they’re double glazed and sealed. Someone decided to turn up the temperature last week after we had that cold snap, and everything ground to a halt.’
‘Bloody hell. So does anyone know how long it was up there?’
Gavin shook his head. ‘No, but the acoustic tiles were installed towards the end of the redevelopment works to the building so he wasn’t up there before that—’
He broke off and jerked his chin over Kay’s shoulder.
Turning, she saw Aaron Baxter approaching, a clipboard in his hand.
‘Sorry, guv. Bedlam at the moment.’
‘No problem,’ said Kay. ‘The main thing is, you’re maintaining a good crime scene so don’t worry about us having to wait.’
The police constable managed a smile as he took back the signed paperwork from Gavin. ‘Thanks, guv.’
Kay ducked under the tape Aaron held aloft, waited for Gavin to join her and then took a set of protective coveralls from Patrick, one of Harriet’s assistants, and donned the bootees and gloves he held out.
Once suitably attired, she followed Gavin to the front door of the building, noting with relief that the barriers had been erected and the bystanders now moved away from the opposite office block.
The double doors to the old bank had been propped open and as Kay entered, a faint sound of weeping reached her ears.
A young woman, no more than twenty, sat in one of the leather seats in the reception area, a paper tissue clutched in her fist while a colleague tried to placate her.
Debbie moved to Kay and Gavin’s side. ‘Gemma Tyson,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Receptionist. She was present when the victim was discovered.’
Kay nodded her thanks, then moved towards the doors that she reasoned led into the bowels of the building. ‘We’ll have a quick word with her on the way out.’
Gavin nodded in understanding, then paused as they entered the open plan office. ‘Bloody hell.’
The central space that served as the working hub of the software business teemed with people.
A group of a dozen uniformed officers milled about the room. They had divided the employees into small groups in order to seek witness statements from them and ensure mobile phones were confiscated until any photographs were removed and ground rules regarding social media had been communicated.
An air of shock permeated the air, tinged with a dark undertone of disbelief at the sudden entrance of the mummified body.
As they made their way towards the kitchen area and Harriet’s team of crime scene investigators who were beginning to process the evidence, Kay fought down the urge to panic at the sheer number of people that were present.
As crime scenes went, it was going to be one of the hardest to manage and would test her team’s skills to the limit.
‘What made them suspect foul play?’ she said.
‘Bloody great dent in the side of his skull,’ said Gavin. ‘You could say it’s a no-brainer, guv.’
Kay groaned, and brushed past one of Harriet’s assistants. ‘You’ve got to stop hanging around with Barnes, Piper. He’s a bad influence.’
Three
Kay’s newly-appointed detective sergeant had a reputation for his sense of humour but Ian Barnes was an integral part of her team and despite her words, she knew he could show brevity and professionalism when required.
Right now, he was wearing a set of coveralls and was surrounded by people in varying states of preparedness.
Crime scene investigators milled around where the mummified corpse had dropped through the ceiling, while a third police cordon was being established closer to the body.
Barnes glanced up from his notes, acknowledged Kay and Gavin with a nod, then turned his attention to a young uniformed constable and her colleague before pointing towards the far end of the room.
The two officers sprung to action, leaving Barnes to speak with a tall man in a suit who ran his hand through his hair repeatedly as he listened.
‘Who’s he?’ said Kay.
‘Managing director, guv,’ said Debbie. ‘Works on the floor above. In the room above, to be more precise.’
‘Has that been taped off as well?’
‘Yes. Two of Harriet’s team went up there when they arrived, and we’ve got people speaking to the employees on that floor as well. Thought we’d do it there to keep them away from all this.’
Plastic chairs lay strewn over the linoleum tiles from where they had been shoved backwards by the staff members trying to leave the area in a hurry, and Kay ran a practised eye across the assembled throng that mingled next to a water dispenser over by the far wall.
‘Anyone leave?’ she said.
‘No. All present and accounted for,’ said Debbie. ‘We won’t release anyone from the scene until you say so.’
‘Good, thanks. How are you doing, Ian?’ said Kay as she drew nearer.
‘Good, guv. Hang on.’
He turned and spoke to a uniformed sergeant, and then moved across to where Kay and Gavin stood at the boundary between the office space and the break area, an expression of disgust clouding his features once he was close.
‘Never had one like this before,’ he said with a shudder. ‘First time for everything, I suppose.’
‘Looks like you’ve got it all under control.’
A sense of pride filled Kay as she spoke.
Barnes’s decision to apply for the role of detective sergeant had been a surprise to her and others. He had spent the summer shying away from the opportunity only to change his mind at the last minute rather than have a complete stranger join the team.
Kay had been relieved; she enjoyed working with the older detective who had become a good friend as well as a colleague, and someone she could rely upon without having to ask.
He seemed to be thriving on the challenges his role brought, especially now.
Kay craned her neck, but couldn’t see
past the crime scene investigators who were now crouched on the floor amongst the tables. ‘Where’s Lucas?’
‘Here.’
She spun around at the voice, and came face to face with the pathologist, his expression weary as he dried his hands on a crunched up sheet of paper towel before placing it in a bag and handing it to a passing CSI team member.
They shook hands, and then she gestured to the area below the gaping hole in the ceiling.
‘Can you tell me anything new?’
‘That heatwave we had in the summer preserved the body,’ said Lucas, keeping his voice low in order to avoid being overheard by the office staff that were being corralled from the water dispenser towards a group of desks. ‘I understand these acoustic tiles were installed in late June so whoever hid the body managed it between then and when the building was leased in early October.’
Gavin looked up at the gaping hole leading to the ceiling cavity. ‘How on earth do you get a body up there? It’d take more than one person, wouldn’t it?’
‘Some of Harriet’s team are upstairs. They’ve started pulling apart the office above this,’ said Lucas. He beckoned to Harriet. ‘Got a second?’
‘If you’re quick,’ said the CSI lead.
‘I was going to update Kay with what you’re up to, but figured it’d make sense for her to hear it from you in case you already had more information,’ said Lucas.
‘Okay, yes. We’re working on two theories based on what we’ve managed to ascertain upon arrival. One, the body was raised up into the ceiling from here, or two – whoever did this put the body in the floor of the office upstairs,’ said Harriet. ‘It wouldn’t have been easy pushing our victim up through the ceiling – too heavy for a start, and no way of securing it there until the acoustic tiles had been replaced. Obviously, we’ll be able to tell you more as we go but I’m inclined to think it was lowered into the floor above. As the body dried out it shifted through the floor until it was resting on the acoustic tiles and compressed the supply from the air conditioning pipework.’
‘Thanks.’ Kay turned back to Lucas. ‘Do we know if it’s male or female?’
‘Male, definitely. Do you want to take a look before we move him?’
‘I’d better.’
If she were honest, Kay would rather not inspect the mummified body but she knew from experience that if a chance occurred to see a body where it had been discovered, it would often give her more information than she’d glean from reading the stark text of a report, and in her new role as detective inspector she was determined to lead her team by example.
If any of them saw her cutting corners in an investigation, she’d never forgive herself.
‘Pop your mask on,’ said Lucas. ‘We don’t know what spores it might be giving off.’
Kay did as she was told. Once she had ensured Gavin donned his mask as well, she followed Lucas and Harriet under the secondary cordon and across the linoleum floor to where the CSIs worked.
At first, the curled-up form on the ground resembled a bundle of rags that that been dropped in a heap but as she drew closer, Kay could make out a clenched hand poking out from a blue shirt sleeve.
Lucas led her around the victim’s body, his movements respectful as he dropped to a crouch and gestured to the man’s face.
Kay swallowed, then joined the pathologist.
She ran her gaze over the puckered skin of the victim’s face.
His eyelids were missing, exposing empty sockets, and his lips were pulled back in an agonised grimace.
‘I’m afraid rodents got to his eyes and lips,’ said Lucas. ‘They don’t take long to find a way into a place if they can smell a body, even somewhere like this that’s relatively new.’
‘Gavin mentioned there’s a blunt trauma wound to the head.’
‘Yes, here.’ Lucas used his little finger to indicate a dent in the victim’s skull, behind the left ear. ‘I can’t say for certain if that’s the cause of death until I’ve had a chance to examine him properly, though.’
‘Any identification? Wallet?’
‘No, nothing in his pockets.’
‘How on earth will you identify him?’ said Gavin, his face gradually returning to its normal colour. ‘I mean, his face is beyond recognition, and his skin’s all wrinkled.’
‘We’ll get him back to the morgue and try some glycerine on the fingertips to start with,’ said Lucas. He cast a sorrowful gaze at the crumpled body. ‘That might soften the skin enough to obtain fingerprints to send through to you so you can try to identify him. I can’t promise anything for a few days though.’
Kent’s post mortems, if not conducted at a hospital where a patient died, were carried out at Derwent Valley hospital by Lucas and a team of morticians who worked in cramped laboratories and were under constant pressure. Added to their workload were the effects of the colder months, with poor weather conditions and fatal cases of pneumonia amongst the older population, so that a post mortem report for a criminal case could take several days at best – sometimes weeks.
‘No staining to the ceiling tiles?’ said Kay.
‘Dehydration would have occurred prior to putrefaction,’ said Lucas. ‘There must have been enough air flow in the cavity to speed up the process.’
‘And no-one would’ve picked up on any residual smell because the place was empty for two months after the renovations were complete,’ said Barnes. ‘We’ve got a copy of the lease agreement, and this lot didn’t move in until October.’
‘Do we know who the carpet fitters were?’
Barnes jerked a gloved thumb over his shoulder. ‘The managing director phoned his operations manager – he’s on annual leave at the moment but he’s going to go through his files online and email us the details. Local company by the sounds of it.’
‘Okay, good.’ Kay rose to her feet and cast her gaze around the crime scene. ‘All right, Ian. You’ve got everything under control here. We’ll head back to the station and make sure the incident room is ready.’
Four
‘Hell of a way to start a Monday, guv.’
Detective Sergeant Carys Miles handed Kay a manila folder as she walked into the incident room and headed towards her desk.
‘Tell me about it.’ Kay shrugged off her fleece and threw it over the back of her chair before flipping open the file. ‘What have you managed to find?’
Carys leaned against the desk opposite and hitched a lock of black hair behind her ear as Kay sat. ‘The building was owned by one of the big high street banks until the recession a few years ago. It’s been leased on a short-term in the years since, but when the last tenant moved out, the owners decided to take advantage of the redevelopment works going on around here and sold the property.’
‘They must’ve made a pretty penny.’
‘You’re not wrong. The estimated figures are on page four. The new owner – a property development company based in Rochester – contracted out the work. We’ve collated a list of business names relating to the building from the internet and I’ll get some help working through those to find out how they’re linked. Some are sole traders, others are limited companies.’
‘Barnes is waiting to hear from the current tenant’s operations manager,’ said Gavin. ‘Hopefully he’s got a note of the carpet fitters to save you trying to locate them.’
‘That’d be good,’ said Carys. ‘I’m hoping everything’s been done by the book and we don’t have to worry about cash-in-hand jobs.’
Kay ran her eyes over the text as she flipped through the thin file, then handed it back to Carys.
‘This is a good start, thanks.’ She checked her watch. ‘Who’s managing the HOLMES database?’
‘Phillip Parker,’ said Carys. ‘Debbie was rostered out with uniform over the weekend and won’t be free until Thursday to join us.’
‘Yes, we saw her at the scene. That’s okay – Phillip’s more than capable of managing it in the meantime. Who else have we got?’
Ka
y listened and let her gaze wander across the incident room as Carys ran through the names of uniformed officers who had been drafted in to assist her small team of detectives, her heart rate beginning to steady after the adrenalin spike of attending the crime scene.
Her eyes fell upon PC Derek Norris balancing on a chair as he pulled down pale blue paper streamers from the ceiling, and her heart ached.
The previous Friday, one of the administrative staff had brought in her weeks-old baby boy to introduce him to her colleagues and the room had been used as a temporary space to hold a small party for her. Kay had attended, but had drawn worried glances from her fellow detectives. She still felt the pain of loss from her miscarriage some years before, and had found it difficult when the baby had been thrust into her arms and the infant’s vivid blue eyes had gazed up at her.
She battened down the memory as Norris climbed from the chair and threw the last of the streamers into the wastepaper basket under the desk, restoring the incident room to its normal practical setting.
Her frozen fingertips began to thaw in the warmth from the central heating that, this winter at least, was working and she reached out gratefully for the mug of tea that Sergeant Harry Davis thrust at her before he headed off towards a desk near the window. She smiled; the older uniformed officer had become quite a father figure to a number of the staff over the years and she always enjoyed his company, even when she was at the beginning of an investigation that would certainly test all her skills as a detective and manager. At least Harry could be relied upon to corral the younger team members when needed.
An air of efficiency filled the room as personnel settled at temporary desks, answered phones and called across to each other – a focus that wouldn’t be broken until their victim had been identified and the circumstances of his death resolved.
Bridge to Burn Page 2
