Concrete Evidence (5 page)

“That’s what I think but watch this.” She sprayed Luminol onto a square of carpet and then took an ultraviolet torch from her belt and pointed at the carpet where Annie was crouched. “It’s everywhere.”

Annie’s jaw dropped to her chest. She stood up quickly almost staggering backwards. She looked at Kathy wide eyed with shock. “Oh my God!” The light revealed detailed writing on the fibres.

“That script is the same as on the body,” Stirling mused. “Daubed onto the carpet in blood and then scrubbed clean?”

“Exactly,” Kathy agreed.

“That would take time,” Annie shook her head. “This guy had no fear of being here for days. I want every inch of this photographed, Kathy,” Annie said. “Do you think this is part of a ritual?”

“The pentangle?” Stirling pointed to the bloody symbol. “A sacrifice of some kind?”

“I hate that word,” Kathy shrugged. “All the signs are pointing at a ritual murder but on the other hand has it been left to appear that way for our benefit?”

“I don’t know but I would have to say that the killer has left exactly what he wants us to find. He’s trying to make a point.”

“Until we can identify this script, I can’t tell what its relevance is.” Kathy shrugged. “There are no other obvious signs of a genuine ritual. I mean why clean the carpet but leave that on the wall?” She pointed at the blackened mess that was once the victim’s face. “This could indeed be part of a ritual however,” she raised her index finger, “the killer has taken everything that we would need to make a positive identification of the victim. If it is a ‘sacrifice’ why try and hide the identity of the victim. It wouldn’t matter would it?”

Stirling stepped closer to the victim. “Face, teeth, fingerprints, jewellery, what about distinctive markings?” he walked towards the door. “I’ll ask the mother if Jayne had any tattoos or birthmarks.”

“Do that and ask her what size feet she has,” Annie agreed. “Do you think he’s taken more than you have already listed?” Annie grimaced. “There’s not enough personal stuff in here, Kathy.” Annie pointed out. She walked toward the mirrored wardrobe and caught sight of her reflection. In her mind, her prosthetic eye screamed out from her face, ‘False eye, false eye, false eye, false eye!’ In reality, it was unnoticeable until her good eye moved. Despite the gore around the room it looked too sparse, void of personal belongings to be inhabited by a young woman. Annie was convinced that things were missing.

Kathy nodded her head in agreement. “I noticed that. The bathroom too, yes?”

“Yes.” Annie said. She walked to the window and looked outside. A television crew from the BBC was setting up across the road and a gaggle of newspaper reporters were hovering at the edge of the cordon. The neigbours were still gathered in a huddle to her left. Some of the women were visibly upset. A box of tissues was being handed around. One man stood back from the group and his appearance drew Annie’s attention to him. He had his hood pulled over his head but his face was visible. Annie frowned when a smile crossed his lips.

“Any sign of the fire brigade yet?” Kathy disturbed her thoughts. “I really want to get my team up here.”

Annie turned from the window and shook her head. When she looked back the solitary man had gone. “Once we get cleaned up in here, we can ask the cleaner and her mother what is missing.” She could hear heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Stirling ducked through the doorframe. His brow was furrowed with deep lines. “What did she say?”

“She said Jayne has size six feet and a flower tattoo on her left foot, middle toe.” They all looked at the victim’s foot and then looked at each other. 

CHAPTER 5

Dale Reeves scanned the street beyond the police cordon and pointed to the spot where the crowd was gathered. “Put the blues on and move that lot back,” he ordered the engine driver. “Dave, come with me and we’ll see what the score is. Chris, when the other engines arrive, I want one to the left of the driveway and the other in front of us. Set up as if this place is lit up.”

The sirens screamed and the gathering moved back. Uniformed police officers cleared the area so that they could bring the tender safely to a stop. “Quick in and out, boys. We’re making the place safe and then we’re gone,” Dale said as he opened the door and jumped down onto the pavement. “Where’s the DI?” he asked a young constable, who looked confused by their arrival. Dale had met a thousand baby faced coppers during his career. As Dale neared retirement age, they seemed to be getting younger every day.      

“She’s inside,” the officer pointed to the house and lifted the tape so that he could duck underneath. Dale nodded a silent thank you and clomped across the lawn towards the front door. Dave Cooper jogged to keep up with the taller man. They reached the house and screwed up their noses as the smell of decomposition met them.

“Something’s gone off,” Dave mumbled adjusting his helmet.

Dale smiled grimly and scanned the hallway. “DI Jones?” he shouted. He heard muffled voices coming from the upper floor and headed for the stairs. “DI Jones?” he repeated. As he climbed, he noticed the distinct whiff of petrol. “Can you smell that?”

“Petrol somewhere,” Dave nodded. Annie appeared at the top of the stairs joined by Kathy and Sterling. They all looked irritated by the presence of the firemen.

“I’m DI Jones,” Annie said. Dale thought she was an attractive woman at first glance although there was something funny about her eyes. He tried hard not to stare at the jagged scar that ran down her face. “We have a murder investigation going on but there’s a smell of petrol coming from somewhere. It seems to be stronger here on the landing than anywhere else.” She frowned. “I want the place made safe so that we can get the forensic teams in.”

“Have you searched the bedrooms yet?” Dale asked with a sigh. He looked around the narrow landing; his black skin already had a sheen of sweat glistening on it. His heavy safety clothing and his age combining to make the simplest of jobs an effort.

“We’ve had a brief look around but there’s nothing obvious, hence we called you.”

Dale shrugged his wide shoulders and scratched at his greying beard. “I’m going to need you all to leave while we check the place over,” he said with a toothy smile. “You know the drill. We’ll be as quick as we can and then we’ll be out of your hair.” He shrugged in apology.

Annie puffed up her cheeks and blew out a deep breath. “Kathy, we need to get out for five minutes,” she nodded to Stirling and he stepped back to allow Kathy to go down the stairs first. “Please don’t go in this bedroom unless you absolutely have to,” she said firmly. “This is a complicated crime scene and we don’t need half a dozen pairs of size elevens stomping all over it, please.”

“Heaven forbid,” Dale smiled. “I’ll do a quick check of the other rooms; get the steps off the wagon, Dave.” He said briskly.

“Don’t move anything,” Kathy shouted up the stairs as she reluctantly left the house.

“Don’t stomp on anything and don’t move anything,” he muttered to himself and shook his head. “I’m a fireman not Dynamo the magician. Levitation isn’t one of my many skills.” Dale watched them leave before walking to the bathroom. Although the fumes still permeated the air, they were thinner there. “Follow your nose, Dale,” he whispered as he walked into the second bedroom. He kneeled and peered under the bed. Nothing but dust and hair. It always fascinated him how much hair a female shed and where the hair ended up. He doubted very much if the occupier spent much time under the bed in her spare room, yet there were strands everywhere. Standing, he sniffed the air again and opened a narrow wardrobe. Shoes, some coats and a suitcase. Dale used his index finger and thumb to pick up the case by the handle. It lifted easily. Empty.           

“I thought you’d be in the underwear drawer by now,” Dave’s voice boomed, making him jump. He balanced a set of metal stepladders against the wall and grinned. “What next?”

“Check the small box room,” Dale said moodily. He had a lot of time for his number two but sometimes his incessant sarcasm grated on his nerves. Dale walked to the main bedroom where the stench of death was the strongest. He peered around the door and instantly wished that he hadn’t. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed. He tried to peel his eyes from the butchered woman but even when he did, the image was still etched into his brain. He was tempted to open the mirrored wardrobes but a hunch told him not to bother. There was no doubt that the odour was stronger on the landing. He looked at the hatch in the ceiling and walked beneath it.

“Nothing in there,” Dave said disappointedly. He shifted his squat frame to look upwards at the ceiling. “I’m thinking it’s coming from the attic, are you?”

“That’s why I asked for the steps, Einstein.”

“Sorry for thinking at all, Sherlock.” Dave grabbed the ladders and opened them underneath the hatch. “Safety first,” he said holding them steady. “After you!”

Dale shook his head and smiled. He held each side and climbed the first two steps inspecting the hatch lid and frame closely. Two hook-and-eye fastenings were fitted to hold it closed but one of them was hanging loose. The frame was painted with white gloss and dirty smudges marked the wood near the hook. Fingerprints. They were impossible to see from below. He had no idea when they had been made but his instincts told him they were recent. They also sent alarm bells ringing in his head. “I don’t like this one bit,” he said quietly. The expression on Dave’s face changed immediately. He knew when Dale had a hunch, it was usually correct. “The smell is much stronger up here.”

“Do you want the hoses in?” Dave asked concerned.

“Not yet,” Dale said staring at the corners of the hatch. He reached up and pressed a finger against the fastened hook and pushed it from the eye. It rattled as it fell loose. He pressed the fingers and thumbs of both hands against the lid and pushed gently. It didn’t move an inch. He looked down at Dave and grimaced. “Feels like there’s something on top of it.”

“It’s your call,” Dave said seriously. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with until we move that hatch.”

Dale bared his teeth and pushed a little harder. The hatch moved up from the lip and air rushed out from the attic. It was so thick with petrol fumes that Dale could almost taste it. “No doubt it’s up here.” He paused to think.

“No one keeps petrol in the attic,” Dave shook his head. “Could be a model train enthusiast I suppose.” He tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Nah,” Dale humoured him. He took a deep breath. “Trains run on diesel.”

“I was joking.”

“So was I.” Dale tensed. “Now shut up while I concentrate.” He pushed again opening an inch wide gap between the lid and the frame. Squinting into the blackness, he tried to let his eyes become accustomed to the dark. He stared intently at the edges, studying each of the four sides of the rectangular opening. The weight on the hatch shifted and something fell over with a dull thud. Dale froze and listened. Metal on wood, then a rolling sound like a ball bearing. It came to a stop with a metallic click. In the darkness to his right, Dale saw a green light come on and he dropped the hatch back into place and jumped from ladder, landing with a thump. “Run!”

Dave looked stunned for a second and Dale grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the stairs. The metal ladders clattered to the floor as they hurtled across the landing and sprinted down the stairs in a whirlwind of arms and legs.

CHAPTER SIX

The investigation team huddled in a circle at the side of the house, sheltering from the wind. “There was no tattoo,” Kathy folded her arms and tutted. “And her feet are nowhere near a size six; four at the most.”

“That isn’t Jayne Windsor,” Annie said turning to Stirling. “So where is she?”

“Well there is no way the killer brought a victim back to this house without knowing full well that the owner wouldn’t be a problem.” He shrugged. “Jayne Windsor is either dead or she’s being held somewhere else.”

“Let’s look at it another way,” Kathy shrugged. “She could be complicit.”

Annie frowned but looked around at the growing press crowd and thought about the possibility for a second. “All her personal things are gone. Her toiletries, her car, what about her clothes?” she paused. “Did you look in the wardrobes?”

Kathy shook her head. She shivered against the wind and a shower of leaves whirled around their feet. “I was waiting to process the body first and for you to arrive. I thought it was premature to start checking around.” She stopped in her tracks as muffled shouts came from the house. They moved quickly to the front path, alarmed and confused. They heard heavy boots thundering down the stairs and then the firemen appeared at the bottom, panicked expressions on their faces. A yellow helmet bounced down the stairs behind them and clattered off the banister rail before rolling down the hallway. Dale reeves was waving his arms around. He stumbled to one knee and his colleague gripped him beneath the armpit and dragged him through the front door and into the porch. “Get back!” Dale shouted as they spilled out onto the path. Their momentum carried them away from the house and onto the grass. “Get everyone back!”