by Louisa Scarr
But Mina smiles. ‘Butler comes across as a grouchy sod, but once you get to know him, he’s a good bloke. Solid, loyal. Trustworthy.’
‘You make him sound like a Labrador,’ Freya laughs.
‘More like one of those big mastiffs. Looks like they’ll take your hand off, but all they want is to be petted.’
Josh scoffs. ‘I’d like to see you pet Robin Butler. So, what’s the gossip?’ he pushes Freya. ‘What’s he up to today?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Freya replies. Robin’s return text was brief: Not coming in, Finn in trouble. Freya hasn’t met Finn but has seen photos – a studious bloke with thick glasses and a perpetually serious expression, much like Robin’s. ‘Something about a problem with a friend of his.’
‘Let me look. If it’s police stuff there might be something online…’ Mina ducks away into the back seat, her eyes on her phone. ‘What’s his mate’s name?’
‘Finn Mason,’ Freya replies.
‘Here it is,’ Mina says. ‘Oh, no.’
‘What?’ Freya asks, and Josh swivels round in the passenger seat to look.
Mina starts reading. ‘Information is unconfirmed, but reports state that Dr Simon Sharp and his colleague Dr Finn Mason have been trapped following the storm last night. Dr Sharp, who rose to fame in the BBC series Storm Chasers, is reported dead under suspicious circumstances.’
‘Shit,’ Josh says. ‘That doesn’t sound good at all.’
They both stare at Freya. Her eyes stay fixed on the road.
‘What are you looking at me for? I don’t know anything.’ Freya shakes her head. ‘And you know what the papers are like. Let’s wait to see what Robin says.’
‘Who is this Simon Sharp guy, anyway?’ Mina asks.
‘You must know, he was on TV constantly over Christmas,’ Josh replies.
‘I’ve seen nothing except Peppa bloody Pig and PAW Patrol for the last year, Josh,’ Mina exclaims. ‘Especially not some nerdy weather guy.’
‘Oh no, he wasn’t nerdy,’ Josh says. ‘More Bear Grylls than Michael Fish.’
Freya pulls up in the car park and turns the engine off, as Josh loads a photo on his phone.
‘Super macho, very alpha male,’ he continues. They all look at the picture. Dark floppy hair, strong jaw, excellent stubble. Freya gets a slight glimmer of recognition. Josh looks at them both, expecting a response. ‘You must have heard of him?’ Josh’s voice rises in surprise. ‘There was this episode last year. Him and his crew got stranded for three days in the middle of the Mojave Desert. Survived by bashing up cacti and drinking their own piss. Made all the headlines.’
Mina shrugs again.
‘Anyway. He’s dead? Wonder what happened.’ Josh puts the phone in his pocket and opens the car door. ‘Come on, let’s go and see about this freezer.’
* * *
The crime scene is in full flow by the time they arrive, ducking under the blue and white tape of the outer cordon and approaching the freezer. The woman in charge indicates for them to move to the side, then lowers her face mask.
Freya can see that Dr Steph Harper is already sweating, her face pink, the white plastic suit not ideal in the May morning sunshine.
‘Nice of you guys to make it, at last. Freya,’ she says with a quick acknowledging nod. ‘Good to have you back, Mina. How are those kids of yours?’
‘Feral,’ Mina replies with a smile. ‘But happy.’
‘Best way,’ Harper laughs.
‘What do we have?’ Josh asks impatiently, and Steph gives him a look.
‘Who put the new guy in charge?’
‘Shortage of officers,’ Mina replies.
‘Must be.’
Josh shifts from foot to foot. ‘If you two have finished…’ he says, and Steph rolls her eyes.
‘Unidentified male,’ she starts. ‘Found this morning at half six, when one of the staff tried to move the freezer and tipped it over. Gave the old guy quite a shock.’
‘I bet,’ Josh says. The four of them look over to where three white suits are loading the corpse into a black bag. Freya can see a socked foot and a leg. The chest freezer is still on its side behind them: a big old thing, it’s no wonder it hadn’t been shifted. The too-small, wheeled pallet truck responsible for the mess sits behind in the mud, clearly unsuitable for the job.
‘I estimate the body to be between fifty and sixty years of age. No obvious injuries or cause of death. Pretty fresh, by the look of things. Dead no longer than eight hours, rigor present, still warm.’ Steph runs the back of her hand across her hot face, wincing. ‘We’ll finish up here with the body, then SOCO can take the whole freezer back for processing. Can’t be done soon enough, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Anything else of interest around the freezer?’
Steph shakes her head. ‘SOCO said no usable footwear marks in the mud. The storm made a complete mess. Mud, rubbish everywhere.’
‘And any idea who the freezer belonged to?’ Josh asks.
‘That’s your job, Detective,’ Steph says. ‘Clear serial number if you want to get it.’ Freya watches as Josh leaves and goes through the inner cordon to the freezer, putting on shoe covers and gloves as he goes. Steph moves further away and pulls the hood down from her head, the gloves off her hands. She runs her fingers through her brown hair, tying a few sweaty strands back where they’ve come loose.
‘How are you, Freya?’ Steph asks. Freya’s pleased to see her. It’s been a while since she’s spoken to Dr Harper, as Steph hasn’t been allocated to any cases she and Robin have been working on for a while. Freya suspects it was deliberate, following Steph’s break-up with Robin last year. ‘Surprised to see you without Butler,’ she adds, face flushing slightly as she mentions Robin’s name.
‘He’s off today. Had to go to Reading to help one of his mates out.’
Steph nods. Freya can see she wants to ask and pauses, waiting.
‘And how is he?’
Freya gives a small smile. ‘He’s good.’
‘Same old grumpy Robin?’
‘Sort of. He’s taken up running.’
Steph steps back in mock surprise. ‘Butler?’
‘I know.’ Freya laughs. ‘Something you said must have rubbed off on him. Are you still doing those insane triathlons?’
‘Of course,’ Steph replies, then shakes her head, smiling. ‘Well, I never. Robin Butler in shorts. Say hello from me when you see him.’ She stops, blushing. ‘Actually, don’t.’ Steph looks over to Mina. ‘Give that gorgeous baby a kiss from me,’ she shouts across to her, then heads off after the body.
Freya watches her go. She’d always liked the idea of her boss and the forensic pathologist together, but for some reason it hadn’t worked out. Freya isn’t sure why, when it’s clear there are still feelings and Butler is still single. But Josh interrupts her thoughts with a wave, and she walks over to where he and Mina are waiting.
‘Freya, you come with me to interview the witness, and Mina, can you have a wider look at the location?’ Josh is obviously taking his new role seriously, more than a hint of officiousness to his voice.
‘What am I looking for, Sarge?’ Mina asks.
‘Anything that looks out of place, that might show how the body got here.’
She raises her hand in a mock salute, then heads off away from the crime scene. Freya and Josh walk silently along the track towards the train shed that doubles as the visitor centre.
‘You and Mina know each other well?’ Josh asks.
‘Yeah, she’s great,’ Freya replies with a smile. ‘We started as DCs together, must be… oh… five, six years ago,’ Freya finishes, thinking back. They were the only two new female detectives that year, bonded together out of necessity, darkly laughing over coffee and cake at the many misogynistic comments directed their way. Over the years, it had turned into real friendship, but Freya’s only too aware of how she’s let it slip while Mina’s been off. ‘Have you been to the model railway before?’ she says, changing the
subject as guilt threatens.
‘Narrow gauge, not model,’ Josh replies, then looks slightly embarrassed. ‘Once, with my nephews. Only in England could it be acceptable to spend your Sunday pootling around on a tiny train.’
They pass through a dark passageway into the main station. Two perfectly proportioned steam trains wait on the tracks, carriages behind them. Freya looks at them while Josh goes off to ask at the gift shop. It’s a different world to Freya. Places to go on a Saturday afternoon to amuse the kids. Fresh air, bright sunshine, gaudy metal playparks.
Josh comes back, pointing towards the café on the far side.
They walk over and slide open the door, heading towards the older gentleman sat at one of the tables. He has a mug and a fry-up in front of him. He is wearing baggy oil-stained overalls and looks up as Freya and Josh approach.
‘Are you the police?’ he asks and they nod, both showing their warrant cards.
‘DS Josh Smith and DC Freya West,’ Josh says. Freya glances his way with a small smile: didn’t take you long to assimilate the new promotion, did it? Conveniently forgetting the fact it’s only temporary. Oh, to have that confidence, she thinks ruefully.
The man points towards the bench opposite him, gesturing for them to sit down. He introduces himself. ‘Barry Headley. Do you want anything? They do a mean sausage sandwich.’
Freya’s mouth waters but she shakes her head, following Josh’s lead.
‘I’m surprised you have your appetite, after what you saw this morning,’ Josh starts.
‘Yeah, well. Need something to boost up the blood sugar. It was quite a shock.’
‘I can imagine. Do you mind telling us about it?’
The old man takes a swig from his coffee. ‘Got here about sixish, needed to work on the Silver Jubilee – that’s the green Pacific-type loco out there. Her pistons have been a bit out of line, keeps on misfiring, you know how it is.’
They both nod in pretend understanding.
‘Are you always in at that time?’ Freya asks.
Barry nods. ‘I don’t sleep so well these days. So I might as well be doing something useful.’ Freya smiles and he carries on. ‘Well, when I pulled the car in, I saw that the bloody freezer was still there. It made me angry that the council hadn’t done anything about it, so I thought I’d try and shift it myself. Should have waited for Connor, did nothing but knock it over, and that’s when it fell out. It didn’t look like a body. Like an overstuffed pillow. Until I saw the head.’
‘And you didn’t touch it? Try to take a pulse?’
The man shakes his head, grimacing. ‘No, it was obvious he was dead. Called you guys straight away.’
‘And had you checked the freezer before? When it was first dumped?’ Freya glances at her notepad quickly. ‘At the weekend?’
‘Yeah, Sunday night. Found it first thing Monday morning. No, we assumed it was empty.’ He stops and looks at Freya. ‘What a horrible thought, that that body was there all along.’
The three of them turn as the door opens, and Mina comes inside. She joins them at the table and introduces herself to Barry.
‘The bus shelter at the end of the road,’ Mina asks. ‘Have you noticed anyone hanging around there?’
‘Not unless you mean the people catching the bus?’
Mina shakes her head. ‘No. It’s full of beer cans and bottles. The cheap stuff, you know. And cigarette butts. Feels like the sort of mess teenagers would leave behind.’
‘There are a few kids sometimes. I can ask Connor when he gets in,’ the man says, checking his watch. ‘He was here last night.’
‘Connor?’ Josh asks.
‘Connor Vardy,’ he replies. ‘Good kid. Bad start in life, helps me out with the trains. Has a real skill with engines – he’s doing some sort of apprenticeship with the college. Sad, really. When a kid has so much potential but no self-belief.’
‘If you could ask him, that would be great,’ Josh says, passing him his contact details. ‘Get him to call us.’
The three of them say their goodbyes – Freya still thinking wistfully of that sausage sandwich – and walk back to the car.
Mina points to the bus shelter, now cordoned off, as they go.
‘I told SOCO to collect what they can,’ she says, climbing into the back seat. ‘Take photos and the like.’
‘Good work,’ Josh says.
‘Thanks, boss,’ Mina replies.
Freya glances back at her. She’s smirking. It’s definitely going to take a while to get used to their new supervising officer. And Freya misses Robin.
It’s clear that Josh is trying hard, saying the right things and asking the right questions, but he’s missing the air of competence that Butler exudes. With Robin, Freya’s always sure they’re on the right track. And they have one of the best case-closure records in the Major Crimes team, a fact she’s proud of.
But Josh? Well, he’s certainly nicer to look at, she thinks, watching him joke with Mina. But in terms of finding out how the cold, dead body of this man ended up in a freezer, in a deserted lay-by? He’s got a long way to go yet.
5
Sophie screams in frustration as she attempts to get past the policeman, who body-blocks her again. She’d managed to sprint past the man at the bottom of the car park, ducking up the back stairs to get to the top, but now she can see the van, the bastards won’t let her through.
The first thing she had done this morning was phone Finn. And when he hadn’t answered, she’d known something was wrong. That night she’d slept badly, the storm howling outside her flat, her dreams uncharacteristically dark. She’d been looking for Finn, frantically calling out his name, and when she woke, she knew. The unconscious is a powerful tool; she’s learnt to listen to what her brain is telling her.
She’d seen the news reports. Vague, speculative accounts of Dr Sharp’s death. So she headed straight to the car park, where she knew Finn had been spending the night. But now they won’t let her get to him. She sees heads turn, then a man walks towards them. He holds up his hand and the policeman backs off.
Sophie’s lip curls. Robin, Finn’s best mate.
But Robin being there has stopped her in her tracks. Not because she is cowed by him, but because his presence only confirms her worst fears – something has happened to Finn.
‘Nice to see you, Sophie,’ Robin says, even though she knows from the look on his face that it is anything but. The feeling is mutual.
‘What’s happened? What’s going on? Is Finn okay?’
Robin glances back to the van, then to the woman approaching extending her hand. Her expression is dark and serious; she stands up straight with an air of authority. Clearly the person in charge.
‘DI Jo Craig,’ she says. Sophie shakes her hand. Her grip is light but reassuring. ‘There’s a problem involving Finn. He’s refusing to come out of the van. What can you tell us about last night?’
‘He’s what?’ Sophie stutters. ‘Well, let me get over there. He’ll come out if I talk to him. He’s probably just tired and confused. He gets like that when he hasn’t had enough sleep.’
‘It’s more complicated than that, Sophie,’ Robin says quietly.
Sophie looks from Robin to the police detective. There’s something they’re not telling her. ‘It’s Simon, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘He’s dead?’
‘What do you know about last night?’ DI Craig repeats.
Sophie shakes her head. ‘Finn and Simon left about nine p.m. with Justin, the cameraman. They were due to be out until dawn, filming the storm. Finn has been developing a new dual polarisation Doppler and Dr Sharp wanted to use it for his TV series, so he got Finn on board.’
‘A what? Sorry?’
‘It’s a high-resolution radar. Storm chasers have been using them for years, but this is next-generation, the first of its kind. Finn was excited. He’s wanted to see it in action for ages, but funding’s been a problem. Not once Dr Sharp came along.’
She remembers Finn com
ing back from the university six months ago, bubbling with excitement. He’d received an email from an old friend – that TV weather guy, have you seen him on the BBC? – and he wanted to get together. Discuss some new project he had in the pipeline. Sophie was pleased for Finn, but excitement had slowly turned into nerves, then anxiety. Finn has put everything into getting ready for this storm.
She knew she couldn’t trust them – she knew. Finn had told her the stories from the lab; all those egos, competing for attention. People think all scientists are quiet – nerds, harmless, unobtrusive – but they can be sneaky and underhand. And now look what’s happened.
‘So they were out here to film the storm and use this equipment thing?’ Robin continues, and Sophie nods. Robin turns to DI Craig. ‘So what on earth happened?’ he whispers to her.
Sophie feels the panic swell in her chest again. ‘What has happened?’ she pleads, her voice rising. She looks desperately to Robin, then to DI Craig and back again. ‘Please tell me.’
She sees Robin steel himself before he speaks. ‘We understand that Simon Sharp is dead, yes. And Finn’s refusing to come out of the van, saying he’ll kill himself if we come close.’
‘What?’ Sophie can’t believe what she’s hearing. ‘But that’s absurd! Finn would never kill himself, he’s not like that. You know that, Robin!’ She looks at her boyfriend’s so-called best mate. Robin is just standing there, completely calm. ‘How can you not care what’s going on? How can you be so robotic?’ she screams. ‘Do you not have feelings?’
Robin’s expression hardens. ‘I’m as worried as you are,’ he says in Sophie’s face. ‘But I know that getting hysterical isn’t going to help anyone. I want to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible, and screaming and shouting won’t get us anywhere.’ Robin stops and looks at her closely. ‘Are you high, Sophie?’ he asks.
Sophie rapidly backs away.
‘You are. Fuck!’ Robin throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘You’ve turned up to a crime scene stoned out of your head. We should search and arrest you now.’
‘I have a licence from the Home Office, you know that!’
