In cold blood, p.2
In Cold Blood, page 2
Isabel didn’t need directions. She knew it well.
***
Ecclesdale Drive sliced through the centre of a housing estate that had sprung up in the early 1960s and had grown every decade since. The outlying fields that Isabel remembered from childhood had burgeoned into a confusing network of streets and cul-de-sacs, each one crammed with showy red-brick properties.
The houses in the original part of the estate were plainer, but built on bigger plots, with long gardens filled with well-established trees and shrubs. Isabel turned onto Winster Street, driving past the recreation ground she’d visited frequently as a child. The old slide was still there, as well as a vast climbing frame and a new set of swings. The flat wooden roundabout the local kids had called the ‘teapot lid’ had been removed on safety grounds in the 1970s, as had the conical swing that had been shaped like a witch’s hat. Isabel smiled as she recalled the wild, spinning rides she had taken on that pivoted swing.
She took the second left into Ecclesdale Drive. The street was long and crescent-shaped, curving down towards an infant school and the newsagent’s shop at the end. It was years since Isabel had been here. Ecclesdale Drive held lots of memories, but not all of them were good.
She pulled up behind two police vehicles that were parked halfway along the road. Her hand trembled as she switched off the engine, her fingers quivering involuntarily like the blue-and-white police tape that was fluttering around the outer cordon of the crime scene. Battling a growing wave of unease, Isabel took a deep breath and got out of the car.
Chapter 3
She stood for a moment and looked up at number 23. It was one of a long row of identical detached properties of boring 1960s architecture. Like a child’s drawing of a house, its pointed eaves faced the road and a chimney protruded from the left-hand side of the roof. The front of the house had originally consisted of three windows and a door, but at some stage over the last couple of decades, someone had added a small porch extension.
Isabel went to the boot of her car and retrieved a pair of blue latex gloves and overshoes. Suitably protected, she walked to the edge of the temporary barrier where a uniformed officer was standing.
‘Evening ma’am,’ he said as she showed him her warrant card. ‘It’s round the back. DS Fairfax is here already.’
She stepped onto the front path and ducked under the inner cordon before unlatching the side gate at the end of the driveway. At the back of the house, she passed a pale-faced young couple who were gazing out from the dining-room window. DS Daniel Fairfax was standing in the garden with his arms folded, next to a set of lights that were illuminating an area of ground directly behind the property’s brick-built garage.
Isabel pulled up the zip of her coat to fend off a chill that was wrapping itself around her neck. ‘OK, Danny boy,’ she said. ‘What have we got?’
‘Human remains,’ he said. ‘The new owners came across them when they were digging out foundations for a kitchen extension.’
Her chest tightened. ‘Human remains? I thought you said there was a body.’
‘That’s what the duty officer told me initially,’ he said. ‘When I got here, I realised the body had been in the ground for quite a while.’
Isabel forced herself to breathe slowly to fend off a rush of nausea. ‘When you say “a while”, how long do you mean?’
‘I don’t know yet, boss. You’ll have to ask Raveen.’
Raveen Talwar was kneeling a few feet away at the edge of a half-dug trench. Isabel was glad it was Raveen. He was consistently polite and helpful, and one of the best crime scene investigators she had worked with. He dealt efficiently and graciously with questions, but he could be brash if he thought someone was trying to step on his overshoed toes. Whenever he worked a crime scene, he had a grating habit of crunching mints, the hard-boiled variety. He devoured them nonstop, even through the longest of examinations.
Despite his penchant for mints, there was something agreeable and reassuring about having Raveen around. Everyone liked him. His popularity was such that, when his wife had recently given birth to a boy, the CID team had taken the unusual step of clubbing together for a baby gift.
Isabel stumbled towards him on legs that wobbled, as though they were made of elastic. ‘What can you tell me, Raveen?’ she said.
He looked up. ‘Are you OK? You look pale.’
‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘Just tell me what you know.’
‘Nothing certain at this stage, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Any soft tissue is long gone, but these definitely aren’t bones of antiquity. If you’re going to force me to guess – which I know you are – I’d say the body has been here for at least twenty years, but it could have been in the ground much longer.’
‘How much longer?’ Her heart was pounding and she was aware that her voice was cracking treacherously.
‘It’s too early to say. The skeleton is only partially exposed. I’ll be able to tell you more when it’s been fully uncovered and removed. Don’t push me into making a rash assessment. I need to have a proper look.’
Isabel tried hard to hide her exasperation. ‘Come on, Raveen. Don’t be coy. You must be able to tell me something.’ She shifted impatiently. ‘I won’t hold it against you if you get it wrong, but I need to know. Please. How long? It’s important.’
Raveen stood up and narrowed his eyes. ‘I’d estimate the body has been here somewhere between twenty and forty years, give or take a few years.’
Isabel’s stomach reeled. Hiding her shaking hands in the pockets of her coat, she walked along the edge of the muddy trench and looked down – but instead of seeing human bones, her vision blurred and a creeping black mist began to close in, threatening to shut her down.
‘We’ve also found a partial dental plate,’ Raveen said. ‘It might help us to establish a more accurate timeframe.’
His voice was coming to her as if from a distance, his words muffled and distorted. Lurching away from the trench, Isabel went over to the rear wall of the garage and leaned against it. Blood rushed in her ears and she took a series of deep breaths to clear her head.
Dan was observing her closely, his brown eyes watchful. ‘You all right, boss? I didn’t have you down as someone who would get queasy over a bunch of bones. I’d have thought you’d seen way worse than this.’ A half-smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he took in her obvious discomfort.
‘If you don’t mind, Dan, I’m going to stand down and let you take over for now, while I put in a call to the Super.’
‘OK …’ His forehead creased into a frown. ‘Was it something I said? I was only joking about the bones, you know.’
Isabel chose to ignore his wisecrack. ‘Will you be all right picking up the questioning?’ she asked.
Dan nodded confidently, but his expression wavered as he clocked the serious expression on her face.
‘Is there a problem?’ said Raveen.
‘Possibly,’ Isabel said. She was clenching her fingers so tightly, her nails were digging into her palms. ‘You see, I grew up in this house. Forty-one years ago, I lived here with my parents.’
Chapter 4
Isabel walked away from the crime scene with a torrent of questions sloshing around in her head. One in particular was vying for attention. Could it be him? Was it possible?
She reached the side gate on legs that felt so watery and weak she wasn’t sure they would take her the short distance back to the car. She paused to look back at Dan, fending off a stab of guilt for abandoning him. Left in charge, he seemed tense and uncertain. Raveen stood next to him, deep in thought.
‘Before I go,’ Isabel said, ‘can you tell me whether the body is male or female?’
Raveen nodded. ‘Based on what I can see of the skull, I’d say male.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘The slope of the forehead, the prominence of the supraorbital ridges and the shape of the eye sockets are all consistent with a male skull. So, yes, I’m pretty certain. I’ll be able to confirm it when I’ve had an opportunity to examine the rest of the bones.’
‘Can you tell how old he was?’
‘Definitely an adult, but age, as yet, is undetermined.’
‘OK. Thanks.’ She paused to regain control and, pointing to Dan, said, ‘Don’t forget. Make sure everything is recorded correctly. Log all decisions, actions and information.’
With clumsy fingers, she fumbled with the latch on the gate. It was stiff and clunked loudly when it eventually lifted. As she returned to her Toyota and climbed into the driver’s seat, a pair of curtains twitched at the downstairs window of the house next door. Some things never changed.
The car’s interior was warm and stifling. Isabel leaned her head on the steering wheel, closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. I have to know, she thought. I need to find out one way or another.
Reaching for her phone, she scrolled through the contacts stored alphabetically, stopping at the name of the only person who could answer the question that was burning a hole in her brain.
Her finger hovered over the name on the screen. All she had to do was ask one question. The answer she received would either put her mind at rest or plunge her into a deep pit of despair – but anything was better than not knowing.
Before she had a chance to make the call, her phone began to ring. The incoming caller was Detective Superintendent Valerie Tibbet.
‘DI Blood? What’s the situation?’
Isabel closed her eyes. ‘We have a body. The site’s been cordoned off and we’re treating it as a crime scene … but there’s a complication.’
‘What kind of complication?’
‘The house where the victim was found,’ Isabel said. ‘I used to live there. A long time ago.’
‘Right. Well, you’ll need to disclose your connection to the address during any future prosecution case, but there’s no reason why you can’t carry on as SIO.’
‘The problem is, the timeframe’s unclear,’ she said. ‘Forensics estimate the body’s been there for between twenty and forty years, possibly even longer.’
‘I see. And does that coincide with your time in the house?’
‘Potentially. My mother sold up in 1978.’
‘Do you have any reason to believe the body was buried while your family lived at the address?’
This was it. The moment of truth: the point at which she should tell the Super everything. Except there wasn’t much to tell, was there? Just an old story with an unknown ending. Best to say nothing – at least for now.
‘No, of course not. I’m trying to do everything by the book, that’s all. There’s no escaping the fact that the address is linked to me and I don’t want to jeopardise the enquiry. It’s best that I stand down pending confirmation of the timescales. In the meantime, Dan’s in charge at the scene.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Val. ‘That seems sensible, given the circumstances. When we’ve got a better idea of the timeframe and any overlap with your family’s occupancy of the house has been ruled out, you can re-join the investigation. In the meantime, I’ll find someone to take over as SIO. For now I’ll have to trust DS Fairfax to make the initial enquiries.’
‘I have every faith in Dan,’ Isabel said. ‘He’s very capable.’
‘Has he been involved in this kind of investigation before?’
Isabel sighed. ‘Not that I know of, but this will be good experience for him. He needs to start taking on more responsibility.’
‘Is that a problem with him? Is he shirking?’
Isabel rubbed her forehead. ‘No, Val. That’s not what I meant. Dan’s a good detective, but he needs to believe in himself. This case will help boost his confidence.’
‘OK, if you’re sure. I’ll give him a call and have a word. I’ll ask him to keep me updated for now and I’ll get back in touch with you as soon as I hear anything.’
Isabel ended the call, started the car and drove home through the rush-hour traffic.
Chapter 5
A month ago, when Dan had joined DI Blood’s team, everyone had warned him that she was a stickler for procedures, so her swift retreat based on a decades-old connection to the house came as no great surprise. What did puzzle him was her physical response to the crime scene. Dan was aware she’d worked some pretty gory cases in the past, so he was fairly certain she wasn’t squeamish – but her face had definitely looked pale, unnaturally so. What was that all about? She’d done her best to hide it, but something was bothering her. He felt sure of it.
It was all a bit weird. He could understand his boss’s desire to do the right thing, but he was also pissed off that she hadn’t given him a few more pointers before buggering off. As it was, she’d dropped him right in it. He hadn’t been involved in an investigation involving human skeletal remains before and now, here he was, seemingly in charge of the scene.
Left to his own devices, Dan decided to begin his enquiries by talking to the owners of the house. Leaving Raveen and his team to their forensic examination, he went round to the front of the house and rapped on the door.
A woman of about thirty answered. Her dark brown hair, pale skin and wide cheekbones gave her face an exotic look.
‘I’m DS Dan Fairfax.’ He flipped open his ID wallet. ‘I need to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?’
The woman nodded. ‘Yes, of course. I’m Amy Whitworth. Come in.’
She led him into the kitchen, where a man was perched on a stool at an old-fashioned breakfast bar, his hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee.
‘This is my brother, Paul.’
‘Your brother? Right. Sorry, I assumed you were … you know … a couple.’
Amy smiled. ‘No. We’re brother and sister. Twins actually.’
Other than the colour of their hair and eyes, Dan could detect little resemblance between the siblings, although the comparison was somewhat hindered by the enormous hipster beard that dominated the lower half of Paul Whitworth’s face.
‘But you’re joint owners of the house?’
‘Yes.’ Amy nodded. ‘Our father died last year and left us some money. This is our first foray into property development, isn’t it, Paul?’
‘It could well be our last if the whole thing goes tits up.’ Paul Whitworth seemed tetchy and disillusioned.
‘You’ll have to excuse my brother, Detective. Finding a skeleton in the back garden has come as a shock.’
‘That’s understandable,’ Dan said. He pulled a notebook from his pocket. ‘Can I ask how long you’ve owned the house?’
‘We bought it at auction and got the keys eight weeks ago,’ Paul told him.
‘And yet you’ve only recently started work on the extension? I thought property developers liked to turn things around quickly. Get the work done, sell the house and make some fast money.’
‘That’s the general idea,’ Paul said, ‘but we had to wait for planning permission to come through.’
‘What can you tell me about the previous owner?’
‘We never met her,’ Amy replied. ‘We were told she was an elderly widow who’d gone to live in a residential home. Her son auctioned off the house to get a quick sale.’
‘Do you recall her name?’
Paul shrugged. ‘Can’t say that I do. Our solicitor will have all the details.’
‘I think it was Repton,’ Amy said. ‘Rhoda Repton.’
Dan made a note of the name. ‘And have you any idea how long she’d lived here?’
‘No. Sorry. You could check with the neighbours though. They might be able to tell you.’
‘Someone’s doing that right now.’ Dan smiled. ‘Tell me, when you got the keys, had the house been cleared? Was it completely empty?’
Paul and Amy exchanged smiles.
‘As it happens, we had to get rid of a lot of furniture and other stuff that had been left behind,’ Paul said. ‘It was a right load of old tat – even the charity shops didn’t want it. We took everything down to the tip in my van.’
‘Was there anything unusual or out of place? Anything that seemed odd? Something hidden away?’
‘Not that we noticed,’ Paul said. ‘It was the sort of stuff you’d expect to find … a few clothes had been left in one of the wardrobes, and there were some old magazines and newspapers … a crappy framed picture. An old rug. Nothing much else.’
‘I finished clearing the pantry this afternoon,’ Amy said. ‘There was all sorts of junk in there. Tins of food, cereals, jars, old pans and utensils. I put everything in the dustbin at the side of the house.’
‘But nothing out of the ordinary?’ Dan wasn’t sure what he had hoped to hear. The discovery of a decades-old blood-stained knife perhaps, or a bottle labelled ‘poison’ hidden away behind a can of mushy peas.
‘I think the family took away anything of value and left the rubbish for us to dispose of,’ Paul said.
‘You didn’t come across any letters or bills?’ said Dan, knowing he was grasping at straws. ‘No correspondence of any kind?’
‘There was an old bureau in the hallway,’ Paul replied, ‘but it was empty.’
‘OK. Well if you think of anything, let me know.’ Dan handed them a card with his telephone number on it. ‘I’ll get someone to come in and take a statement from you in a few minutes.’
‘Do you know how long those guys are going to be out there?’ Paul nodded towards the forensics team whose white scene suits stood out, ghost-like, in the dark garden.
‘The remains you found have been confirmed as human,’ Dan said. ‘The body was buried recently enough to warrant a forensic and police investigation, so we’ll need to do a thorough search of the site. It’ll be a while yet. Several days, I would imagine, but we’ll let you know as soon as they’ve finished. In the meantime, I’m afraid your back garden is off limits.’
***
As Dan let himself out of the front door of the house, he ran into the uniformed officer who’d been tasked with speaking to nearby residents.
‘Any joy with the neighbours? Learn anything interesting?’
