As Warren had guessed, it was Peanut, the chocolate-brown Labrador, who had found the body. As was their custom, both dogs were off their leads with Peanut romping through the trees on the edge of the pathway. Susie, the golden lump, was getting on a bit now and preferred to trot alongside her owners. At the mention of her name, one of Susies ears pricked up, before flopping down again. The poor thing looked knackered, thought Warren.
The walkers had been alerted by a sudden urgent barking from Peanut.
Hes a sensible one, is Peanut. Hes not given to silliness, so I thought I best go and see what got him all excited. The oldest of the four retirees was a short man, with a trim grey beard and gentle accent that might once upon a time have been West Country.
Leaving his wife with the other couple, hed entered the trees to find Peanut sitting on his haunches barking and whining, clearly distressed.
It was the smell that gave it away, see. I knew that there was something dead in there as soon as I got near. And I figured that if it had been a deer or something else, Peanut wouldnt have been acting up like he did, hed have been straight in there sniffing around. Far as I can tell, he never went within ten feet of the body.
Anyway, it was pretty dark in there, but Ive got one of those little wind-up torches on my key ring and as soon as I shone it on the body I could see she was dead. The mans voice cracked slightly. Poor thing. I took a couple of paces closer, figuring I should at least take her pulse, but I didnt. You dont smell like that if youre still alive. Then I remembered all of those crime dramas that Marie watches and I figured I best leave well alone.
At the mention of her name, his wife slipped a comforting arm around his waist.
Ben here has a mobile phone and so I got him to phone 999 and then we waited for you lot to arrive. The other man, taller and still sporting a full head of dark hair, waved an old, brick-like phone in the air as if to prove his friends point.
After asking them a few more questions and making sure that the CSM had taken everything he needed, Warren thanked them again and sent them back down the path with the paramedics.
Now it was just him and the police constable. If anything, the bright lights made the woods seem more oppressive, blotting out what little natural moonlight could make it through the clouds, enveloping the two men in a white bubble, surrounded by inky blackness. There could be absolutely anyone or anything standing outside that little cocoon and neither man would know
Jesus, Warren, get a grip. Youre in bloody Hertfordshire, five miles from Middlesbury, not two hundred miles up the Amazon River. There arent jaguars waiting in the trees or crocodiles lurking under the river; weve probably scared off every rabbit or fox for miles around.
Nevertheless, he was relieved when he saw the flash of white light coming from the woods and, a few seconds later, the slightly comical shape of Tony Sutton waddling towards him.
Stop smirking, guv, you look just as bloody silly.
Warren, glad that his smile of relief had been mistaken for mirth, responded in kind. What have we got, Detective Inspector Tinky Winky?
A snort of laughter was quickly suppressed by the presence of the uniformed constable, then the brief moment of levity was gone, neither man feeling it appropriate now. Suttons face turned sombre.
I think youd better come and see for yourself, Chief. Its not a nice one.
Chapter 3
Sutton led Jones deeper into the woods, between two strands of police marker tape. About thirty metres in, a large white crime scene tent loomed into view. Another bank of lights illuminated the scene. Opening the flap on the tent, Warren recognised the shape of Crime Scene Manager, Andy Harrison, bent over.
That you, DCI Jones? he asked, without turning around.
Yes, its me, Andy. Good to see you again.
Warren had worked with Harrison at a couple of scenes since joining Middlesbury CID in the summer. The short, portly man was located at the Serious Crime headquarters in Welwyn Garden City, but lived in Middlesbury. For that reason, he usually managed to get himself assigned to any major crimes in the Middlesbury area. Warren was pleased to see him; the man was a safe, competent pair of hands.
Looking over the mans shoulder, Warren felt a wave of sadness. As Tony had told him over the phone on the way in, the body belonged to a young woman. It was important not to draw too many conclusions at such an early stage as his former mentor in the West Midlands Police had been so fond of saying, When you Assume, it makes an Ass out of U and Me. Nevertheless a few things were immediately apparent.
First, the body had almost certainly been there more than twenty-four hours. Even at this time of the year, a body started to decay rapidly when left to the mercy of the elements. The smell in the small tent was pretty rancid thank goodness it wasnt summer, Warren thought. No wonder Peanut had homed in on her so quickly.
The young woman was dressed in a smart black knee-length skirt that had been raised up above her waist. A pair of white panties were pulled down to just above her knees along with her thick black stockings, exposing her pubic region. First order of the day when she was finally moved to the pathologists lab would be a full rape kit. Hopefully, whoever had done this to her had left traces of his semen or other DNA sources behind.
The victim had been wearing a red woollen coat, now open to expose a smart white blouse. The blouse had been partially unbuttoned, showing a sensible bra, pulled to one side, exposing her left breast. Wrapped tightly around her neck was a charcoal knitted scarf.
Without wanting to prejudice any future conclusions too much, Warren was already thinking: work clothes, possibly an office worker or similar. He noted her shoes, shiny black with substantial heels, and decided that she probably had a fairly sedentary job. He knew that his wife, Susan, a science teacher who spent most of her day on her feet, always wore flats or modest heels.
My preliminary observation is a white Caucasian female between the ages of twenty-five and thirty of average build. Possibly raped. Judging by the smell, shes been dead for at least twenty-four hours, probably more. The body and clothes are wet, suggesting it has rained since she was left here, which gives us a time frame of some time prior to yesterday morning. The scarf is certainly tied in a manner consistent with a ligature, although I cant determine cause of death here. Thats up to the pathologist.
What about the scene?
Not much yet. I suspect that the killer carried her here down the same path that the walkers and we have used; that and the rain have probably obliterated any footprints from there, but there looks to be a couple of boot prints around the body. Harrison motioned towards the small squares of white plastic pinned to the ground around the victims head, protecting the imprints until casts could be made.
The bloke that found her claims not to have approached the body, so hopefully they can be linked to the killer.
You said carried. Was she killed elsewhere and dumped here?
Harrison shrugged, his suit rustling. That I cant tell you yet, but Im pretty sure she didnt walk here. He pointed at the womans shoes. Look, almost spotless. Her heels in particular would be caked in mud if she had walked here under her own steam.
The bloke that found her claims not to have approached the body, so hopefully they can be linked to the killer.
You said carried. Was she killed elsewhere and dumped here?
Harrison shrugged, his suit rustling. That I cant tell you yet, but Im pretty sure she didnt walk here. He pointed at the womans shoes. Look, almost spotless. Her heels in particular would be caked in mud if she had walked here under her own steam.
Warren eyed the young woman again. She was of average build, he judged, certainly no heavyweight, but even if she was dead or otherwise incapacitated it would have taken a fairly strong man or more than one person to have carried her down the path.
Anything else?
Harrison shook his head. Nothing but speculation at the moment. I wouldnt want to put any wrong ideas in your head at this stage. Well secure the site and get a full team up here in the morning. Ill email you a clear headshot for ID purposes; her face is probably OK to show to relatives Ill leave that up to your judgement.
Warren glanced at the young womans face again. She looked almost serene, with no visible cuts and bruises. Mercifully it didnt look as if anything had taken a nibble of her face whilst shed lain waiting to be discovered. Only the waxy pallor suggested she was anything other than asleep. Warren decided to run the photo by Family Liaison; they might even add a little pink in Photoshop to soften the blow.
With nothing more to be done, Sutton and Jones trudged back to the clearing, before continuing back to their cars. Neither man said anything, each lost in his own thoughts.
It was the beginning of December and somewhere a family would never look forward to the festive season in the same way again.
Tuesday 6th December
Chapter 4
Sally Evans, twenty-six. Reported missing four nights ago by her boyfriend when she failed to meet him at their usual pick-up point in the side street behind Far and Away travel agents, where she worked.
It was eight-thirty a.m. and Warren was holding a team briefing in the conference room at Middlesburys small CID unit. Behind him a projector showed a close-up photograph of the body taken at the scene by Andy Harrison and beside it a much happier image, taken that summer on holiday. The victim had shoulder-length light brown hair; the smiling young woman in the holiday snap had longer, sun-kissed blonde hair, but it was clearly the same person.
We have a positive ID from the victims boyfriend, with whom she lived, and her mother and best friend. Family Liaison broke the news last night.
The body is still in situ up at Beaconsfield Woods, where it was found by a group of dog-walkers at approximately six-thirty p.m. yesterday evening. The body will be moved to the morgue at midday and a PM is scheduled for early afternoon. Preliminary indications are that she may have been sexually assaulted; cause of death is unknown at this time, but her scarf was wrapped around her throat and may have served as a ligature. Her body was almost certainly carried to the woods, but we dont know if she was dead or alive, or when and where any assault took place.
The atmosphere was sombre. Everybody in the room knew that the three days between Sally Evans disappearance and the discovery of her body could prove to be a major hindrance to the investigation. Valuable trace evidence from the site could have been lost, contaminated or destroyed; similarly the killer or killers had had over eighty hours to cover their tracks. The team couldnt afford to lose any more time.
Reading from the list he had prepared before the meeting, Warren started to assign jobs to the officers present. DS Kent, can you set up an incident desk and get HOLMES up and running, please? I want you to start entering everything as it comes in, especially the particulars from the autopsy. I want to see if the MO matches any known cases. See if we can find links to any previous attacks. DC Hastings, I want you to assist. The older sergeant was the units expert on HOLMES2, the Home Offices crime management database. Used across the country, the system employed a degree of computer intelligence to link cases together and manage all of the documents relating to a crime. Although all officers used the system to some extent, it was experts like Kent who could really make the system work for them.
Working with him would be Detective Constable Gary Hastings. Newly returned from several months sick leave after being stabbed in the summer, the young officer was on light duties whilst he continued to recuperate. He was keen to learn and quick-thinking, and Warren had assigned him to the older sergeants care, having decided that putting the young man back into the heart of a major investigation was probably the best way to help him exorcise any demons remaining from the summers horrors. Besides which, it hadnt escaped Warrens notice that DS Kent was approaching retirement age. He had no idea what the older mans plans were and the new age-discrimination laws made him wary about asking nevertheless, training up other officers seemed prudent to Warren.
Of course, as with any system, HOLMES2 was only as good as the information put into it and the next stage was to gather that information.
DI Sutton, I want you and DS Khan to co-ordinate the interviewing of all of Ms Evans known associates. Start with her workmates, then her friends. Lets see if we can find any witnesses. Use the missing person file as a jumping-off point, but remember it isnt a crime for a twenty-something not to come home of an evening, so there probably wont be much in there.
Sutton and Khan nodded, already casting their eyes around the room at the various other officers they would second to their teams.
DS Richardson, speak to Traffic and any CCTV operators in the area. Lets see if we can find any useful images from around the time that she went missing. I doubt that there will be much in the way of CCTV footage up near Beaconsfield Woods, but you never know, we might get lucky and pick up something on the speed cameras on the main road.
In the meantime, Im going to speak to her family again and see what her boyfriend has to say for himself.
* * *
Warren chose Detective Constable Karen Hardwick to accompany him to interview Sally Evans family. The young woman was relatively new to CID, but had shown a lot of promise. Warren firmly believed that a small unit such as Middlesbury should be careful to ensure that more junior colleagues received the full range of learning experiences, and so he regularly took detective constables and sergeants out with him to interview witnesses or suspects.
It was almost a cliché that whenever a murder occurred, the first place the police headed for was the victims home. However, as Warrens first mentor, Bob Windermere, would often remind him, clichés and stereotypes only become such because there was more than a grain of truth to them. The vast majority of murders were committed by someone known to the victim and so when a young woman was killed the first people the police investigated were her husband, partner or any exes that might still be on the scene. Consequently, the first person that they questioned was Darren Blackheath, Sally Evans boyfriend.
The two had been together for almost three years and had been renting a small third-floor flat for the past eleven months, the young man explained as the two police officers sat on the small sofa opposite him.