Snow Kills (17 page)

‘What’re my two lovely girls up to?’

‘Your daughter’s creating and I’ve just dealt with the most disgusting nappy. I feel like death warmed up this morning.’

‘Normal day then?’

‘Ha ha! You’re not the only one that deals with crap. Did you just phone?’

‘No why?’
Dylan scowled.

‘I missed a withheld number and it’s one of a few in the last couple of days, that’s all. Maisy’s screaming the place down and Max is hiding under the table – poor fella,’
she wrote.

‘Sounds like fun. Speak later,’
Dylan texted before tossing the phone down onto his blotter.

The office phone rang and he grabbed it. ‘Dylan,’ he said.

‘Detective Inspector Jack Dylan, Harrowfield CID?’ said a female voice.

‘That’s right, to whom am I speaking?’

‘Maggie Jones at the forensic lab. You’ve sent us some skulls to examine?’

‘Yeah that’s right Maggie, they’re a bit like buses and policemen, you don’t see any for ages and then they all come along at once,’ Dylan said.

‘I wish I could say that,’ she said. ‘I’ll send you the detail in hard copy, but for now each of the three skulls have been given separate identification numbers, and what I can tell you from my visual examination is the one found on the moorland is around a hundred years old, quite well preserved, nothing sinister like fractures or holes to suggest foul play. However, the other two are more recent. I’d say as an educated guess no older than twenty-five to thirty-years, at the very most. One of them is damaged quite badly, but that’s been caused recently looking at the clean edges, again nothing to suggest anything sinister at the moment. There is a little bit of scar tissue on the other but nothing that suggests a major head injury.

‘I’m really grateful for the quick response. In respect of the latter two skulls, perhaps we need to do some further investigations?’ Dylan said, rubbing his chin. ‘Do you think they may be from a grave disturbance, which was my initial thought?’

‘I can’t tell you that, but the good news is that we can do further work to age them more accurately. There is sand wedged deep in the eye sockets of one, so we’ll analyse samples taken from that. The bonus is that they still have teeth intact. I will contact a forensic ondontologist who will examine and evaluate them for you and hopefully you will be able to corroborate the dental evidence. Should you require it, he will be able to present his evidence in court for you at a later stage. We should get DNA that will be preserved in the teeth and if need be we can do craniofacial reconstructions so we should be able to give you a biological profile.’

‘That’s excellent,’ Dylan said, brightly.

‘Bad news is that everything takes time and costs money.’

‘How much?’

Maggie Jones whistled through her teeth. ‘How big’s your budget? I can guess from experience it’s not enough.’

‘It’s not gonna happen is it? Not with the funds we’re allocated. I was hoping they were all going to be a hundred years old. Trouble is, now I may have no choice but to look at them more closely, no matter what the cost. The reconstruction can wait, but it’d be helpful if you can get on with the other examinations – and hopefully we’ll solve the mystery before cost becomes an issue. Obviously if we find that official graves have been disturbed, or any other information comes to light in the meantime, we’ll let you know.’

‘That’s my job. It’s fascinating for me to unravel mysteries in this way, I’ll be in touch in due course.’

Forensics might be excited about the find, but Dylan would have to get a team together to start tracing any further remains and the origin of the skulls already found. He knew the media would love the story. It was the stuff that sold papers for them. However it wasn’t thrilling to him, it was more work on the already stretched manpower, but his inquisitive nature that made him want to be an investigator in the first place would drive him on to get a result.

He turned to his computer, selected a pro forma for an internal blank Minute Sheet and typed a note to Chief Superintendent Walter Hugo-Watkins, updating him and informing him that he would start an investigation into the younger two skulls.

The response was immediate.
‘Thank you for the update. I would like to be in the loop and I’m sure HQ will watch the story with interest. Leave it with you,’
he said.

‘I’ll obviously require more staff, which will need to come from Division in these early days,’
Dylan responded.

‘Speak to the Chief Inspector Operations. I will message him. Thank you. Walter.’

See, big buddies Jen? Dylan thought, and smiled to himself.

Someone coughed behind him and he turned to look over his shoulder. There were two uniformed officers at his door.

‘Come in,’ said Dylan.

‘You wanted to see us sir, regarding Donny Longbottom?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please take a seat.’

Five foot eight, blond and muscle bound, PS Hornby didn’t need any introduction to DI Dylan, he knew of him previously from working as a DC in his office. During his time in CID he had continually parked his black Peugeot in Dylan’s private parking space. If he concentrated on his work as much as he did on his sports, Dylan had once told him, he would make a bloody good police officer. It seemed Hornby might have taken that advice on board as he sat before him with stripes on his uniform and a desire to move back into CID when the selection boards for the Criminal Investigation Department came around.

Hornby was the taller and younger of the two men. ‘We’ve had a complaint from a sixteen year old girl sir,’ he said. ‘She’s alleging that she was on her way to work this morning, at the Piece Hall, when a lad indecently assaulted her. He told her to be quiet as he tried to drag her back into the bushes but she screamed and kicked out at him, which to be honest probably saved her from actually being raped. Lucky for her, some people were walking towards Harrowfield on the main road nearby and heard her cries for help.’

‘What time did the incident happen?’

‘About half-seven. She had walked through People’s Park from the north-west direction, across the terrace, past the statues and round by the side of the lake, nearest to Harrowfield Road. She was just nearing the entrance by Park Road swimming baths when the attack took place.’

‘Where is she now?’ said Dylan.

‘She’s with the specialist unit who are looking after her and I’ve contacted her mum who is en route. Acting Inspector Dawn Farren is dealing.’

‘What’s the girl’s name?’

‘Sharon Manning, boss,’ said PC Charlie Brook, with a scowl on his fat, round face. ‘She said she caught a glimpse of him as he turned on her before running away and was sure she’d seen him hanging around the Piece Hall.’

‘So how did we latch onto Longbottom?’ said Dylan.

‘A passerby who’d gone to help her called 999 and as luck would have it we were just around the corner. We calmed her down, got the description and circulated it. Then, in the car as were on our way to the unit, she screamed so loud it almost burst our eardrums, pointing to Longbottom who was peering into the window of a shop on the roundabout in town. I pulled around the corner of Lord Street, Sergeant Hornby got out and lifted him and we called for a unit to come and transport him to the station.’

‘Did he say anything?’

‘His exact words were...’ he stopped briefly, flicking to the appropriate page in his pocket book. ‘Were... Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m off to get a tattoo,’ he said, looking back at Dylan.

‘We’ve locked him up for indecent assault, clothing bagged etcetera. He looks like he hasn’t a care in the world, sitting, swinging his legs from the bed in his cell,’ said PS Hornby.

‘He’s come into the enquiry of the missing hairdresser Kayleigh Harwood. We’ve spoken to him but nothing to connect him, nor to eliminate either...’ Dylan said. ‘Are you two alright to interview him for this one?’

‘Certainly, boss,’ replied Hornby.‘ He needs taking off the streets. In my mind he’s the classic indecency man. According to intelligence he’s got form for flashing, now indecent assault – and who knows what else?’

‘He needs bloody castrating if you ask me,’ Charlie said under his breath.

‘Let me know how you get on. And when you’ve finished, I’d like a couple of our team to speak to him again regarding the Harwood girl.’

‘Will do, boss.’

‘Cheers lads, and by the way good lock up. Well done on the stripes Hornby, I can see I’d better look out for my parking space.’

‘Thanks boss,’ said PS Hornby. ‘Appreciated, I’ve grown up a bit since then...’ he added awkwardly.

‘Good to hear.’

Dylan picked up his phone, but the telephone rang for a while before it was picked up by the Child Protection Unit. ‘Inspector Dawn Farren, CPU,’ Dawn said.

‘You don’t happen to have one of those lovely embroidered hankies that I’m partial to in your pocket?’ he said in a deep Yorkshire drawl.

‘Jack Dylan, I’d know that fetish anywhere. It seems ages. How y’doin?’

‘Sleepless nights, mostly wind... and that’s just Jen,’ Dylan laughed.

‘You are awful,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

‘You’ve just had a young lass brought in called Sharon Manning, and uniform have locked up a Donny Longbottom who features in the Kayleigh Harwood enquiry. Tell you what, put the kettle on and I’ll drive over to see you.’

‘You wouldn’t be passing Thomas’s Bakery would you?’

‘Why?’

‘Bring a couple of vanilla slices with you and I’m all yours.’

‘A cream cake and you’re anyone’s Dawn,’ Dylan smiled at the familiarity of his old friend and colleague.

‘Don’t tell everyone,’ she laughed. Dylan could visualise the round cheery face and rosy complexion framed by her dark bobbed hair.

‘I’m leaving this minute,’ he said, picking up the paperwork as he stood and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

Dylan saw Chief Superintendent Hugo-Watkins in the yard talking to John Benjamin and put up his hand to acknowledge them. What a feeble, insignificant looking man he was, standing beside the big, black, athletic-looking detective. After his stint at Training School, John was back in the CID office as a substantive Detective Sergeant – and was just the presence needed on the skulls enquiry.

Dylan arrived at the Child Protection Unit armed with the requested goodies. He stood for a moment at the front of the new building, taking in its impressive frontage. As he walked towards the large glass revolving doors he could see Dawn inside at the reception desk speaking with DI Turner. As soon as she saw him her face lit up and Shaun Turner watched her leave and go straight into Dylan’s open arms.

‘Great to see you,’ said Dylan, as he hugged Dawn. She held him tight for a moment or two.

‘Ooo it’s so good to see you too, long time no see,’ she said patting him on his back in a motherly fashion.

‘I think you might have an admirer there,’ Dylan said, nodding over her shoulder towards the DI.

‘Well, you’ve either got it or you haven’t,’ she said wiggling her voluptuous hips.

‘How’s the girl?’ he said.

‘Not great, her lip’s a mess and she bit her tongue quite badly,’ she grimaced.

‘You working with the Hampshire lads?’ he said, with a nod once again in DI Turner’s direction.

‘Just a familial DNA job, but it hasn’t come to anything on our patch. I presumed they were working with you too?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, they’re working out of our office but that’s it.’

‘Ah, that’s why he wanted the lowdown on you,’ she said, satisfied.

Dylan shrugged. ‘He’s a detective isn’t he, we’re all bloody nosey. You okay now?’ he asked.

‘Getting there, I didn’t realise how much having Violet would affect me. I truly thought I was going mad until the doctors diagnosed the post natal depression,’ she said.

Dylan looked at Dawn in mock horror. ‘You didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell me you’re stark raving bonkers,’ he laughed. She slapped him, playfully.

‘How are Violet and Ralph?’

‘Violet is running us ragged. Got her dad wrapped around her little finger and he has been so busy at the restaurant over Christmas that he had to take on extra staff.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

She nodded. ‘Mmm...’ she said.

‘Thank goodness they finally got it together to replace the temporary unit,’ Dylan said, arm around her as he ushered her forward and towards the doors of the new structure.

‘The new facility is unbelievable, such a step forward for us and it’s brilliant to have a team of key staff here that have immediate access to each other, especially with ongoing enquiries.’

‘It’s much better having a private environment for the survivors of horrendous crimes. A police station wasn’t the right place and the temporary unit ... well, now that was nothing more than a dismal excuse given to us by the Force. Although they are threatening to dissect the unit and rename us again,’ she looked skywards.

Dylan raised his eyebrows, ‘And the flavour of the month being?’

‘Police Safeguarding Unit, believe it or not?’

Entry to the building was via an intercom and Dawn let them in. Dylan gave a nod to Shaun Turner, who was leaning on the reception desk. He followed Dawn up a small flight of stairs and into her modern and comfortable office with all the up to date systems on the new power desk.

‘This makes my office look dire. I’m dead impressed,’ he said with a low whistle. ‘About time they constructed buildings that are built for purpose and not just bought any old place that’s up for sale and have us make do. I wish to God they’d do the same with the computer systems.’

‘Well it’s a start, and very nice to work in,’ she said, ‘but not entirely thought through, we’ve no bloody parking,’ she said looking about him for where the cream cakes might be secreted. ‘Did you get the ...?’

‘You are so darn predictable,’ he said holding up his briefcase. ‘Sounds about right for the Think Tank’.