Authors: Jane Casey
Derwent had wandered off and was now prowling around the room, whistling tunelessly and inspecting the fittings, generally acting as if he was there to look at the house with a view to buying it. Godley beckoned to Hanshaw and Kev Cox, one of our regular crime scene
managers.
‘Talk us through what happened. Josh, come here. I want you to listen to this too.’
I had to hide a smile at Derwent being called to heel like a badly behaved dog. I didn’t hide it quickly enough.
‘Why don’t you ask Kerrigan what she thinks?’ There was a glint in Derwent’s eye as he strolled back towards us. ‘See what she makes of it.’
‘I’m not sure that’s fair.’ Godley’s voice was mild.
‘What do they call it – a teachable moment? This is a chance to show Kerrigan what she doesn’t know, isn’t it? And Kev and Glen here can show her how important it is that she listens to them rather than jumping to her own conclusions.’
‘I may not be very experienced, but I know better than to ignore expert opinion.’ I turned to Godley. ‘Look, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time––’
‘I don’t mind.’ Kev was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met. Of course he didn’t mind. Hanshaw, on the other hand …
‘If you want to test your DC’s analytical skills, feel free.’ The pathologist folded his arms. ‘This should be good.’
And suddenly, they were all looking at me. I swallowed, fighting panic. I was still dry-mouthed from dehydration and my head throbbed, a tension headache that was only getting worse. I made myself concentrate.
Show no fear
. ‘Okay. I should point out I’ve only just come in, and I haven’t looked at the bodies closely.’
‘Understood.’ Godley had an encouraging expression on his face. I didn’t dare look at Derwent.
‘Well, what happened in here was quick. Neither of the victims had time to leave the room, and there are two exits so they had their choice of escape routes. That could mean there were two killers, but I’m not sure it’s beyond one person to have done this.’
‘Who was first?’ Godley asked.
‘Laura. She didn’t have time to get up off the sofa before
she
was attacked. I think the killer stood behind her to cut her throat.’ I looked over at the sofa, thinking. ‘Vita was standing up behind the other sofa when Laura was attacked.’
‘How do you work that out?’ Derwent’s tone was seriously sceptical.
‘She ran towards her daughter. That chair is knocked forward – it would have been in her way. If it had been the killer who knocked it over when he was going to attack Vita, it would have been lying on its back.’ I walked forward to stand at Laura’s feet. ‘Vita stood here and fought with the killer. She must have been aware that Laura was beyond help once she got close enough to see the damage that had been done to her. She would have known her life was in danger too. There’s blood here that’s cast off from the knife. That suggests multiple movements with a bloody blade, but it looks to me as if Laura was dealt with in a single cut. And whatever he used, it must have been very sharp.’
‘Two slashes, in fact,’ Hanshaw said. ‘But you’re right, the cutting edge was extremely sharp, and both strokes were decisive.’
‘Vita ran when she could get away from the killer. She lost one shoe here, the other over by the window. She must have been quite badly injured at this point because she was losing a lot of blood and I’m guessing she held on to the curtains for support.’ I considered it again. ‘Or maybe she was trying to hold them in front of her to block the blade.’
‘There are slashes in the material.’ Kev was nodding happily.
‘Those doors must be locked or she’d have got through them. I bet Philip Kennford is obsessive about home security – he knows too much about criminals not to be. There’s a keypad for an alarm system in the hall by the door, and the gate at the bottom of the drive is an electric
one
with an intercom. I’d say the key for those doors is kept somewhere inaccessible, and they’re never left unlocked.’ I turned to Kev. ‘Was there any damage to the front door? Or any other windows or doors?’
‘No signs of a break-in. The back door into the kitchen was open, but the other daughter was out in the garden, swimming. She’d have seen anyone who used that door.’
‘The other daughter?’ Derwent asked.
‘Laura’s twin,’ Godley explained. ‘Her name’s Lydia.’
‘What was she doing swimming in the middle of the night?’
‘You can ask her.’ Godley changed his mind as he said it. ‘Actually, no, you can’t. She’s in no state to be confronted by someone like you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Derwent was grinning. He positively revelled in his reputation. He’d certainly earned it.
‘Well, if there wasn’t a break-in that just leaves two possibilities, doesn’t it?’ I said. ‘Either the killer was let into the house––’
‘Or he was here already,’ Derwent finished for me.
‘That’s all I’ve got.’ I looked at Godley. ‘What did I miss?’
‘What happened before the killer attacked them. And what happened afterwards.’
‘I haven’t been around the rest of the house yet.’
‘I know. I’m not asking you to guess.’ He raised his eyebrows at the others. ‘How did she do?’
‘Very well. For a police officer.’ Hanshaw was always more vinegar than honey. Kev was nodding too, though, and Godley smiled at me. I felt a warm glow that had nothing to do with the weather. At least I did until I caught Derwent’s eye and was reminded that the inspector didn’t like junior officers to be too clever. I quelled my instinct to look modest and gave him the same look back, my best attempt at cold steel.
So you thought you’d found a way to
embarrass
me, did you? Too bad I’m sharper than you thought I was. Next time, try harder. Or better yet, don’t try at all
.
Godley got back to business. ‘Right. Give us the details, Glen. What did the killer use?’
‘The blade was large. Something like a machete or a professional kitchen knife. Not serrated. All Vita’s injuries are consistent with cutting, so the killer didn’t get too close to her and I don’t have much hope for DNA traces under her nails. She has defence wounds to both hands and wrists – severed tendons in a couple of places. Three or four of her injuries would have been enough to do for her and I don’t yet know which was the decisive one. She bled out into her chest cavity, which is why she had time to fight before she died.’
‘Who are we looking for?’
‘The killer wasn’t playing about. You’re looking for someone strong and probably tall. Right-handed. Violent, as you might have noticed yourselves. The first victim’s throat is cut to the spine. I don’t see that very often. But there’s no sexual component, unless you think the killer has a thing for cutting. He or she treated both of them differently, which may be significant, but then again it may not. Victim one was despatched efficiently and quickly. Victim two fought, which may account for her more numerous injuries.’
‘Or the killer might have wanted to take his time with Vita. Anything else?’
‘Not until after the PMs. I’ll do them tomorrow morning, first thing.’
‘I’ll be there.’ Godley always tried to attend the postmortems. I preferred to read the reports afterwards. It was much less distracting to read the cold, clinical description of what had happened to the victims than to see their internal organs in full, lurid detail.
‘I’m happy for the bodies to be moved now.’ Hanshaw was already gathering his belongings.
‘The lads have finished in here until the bodies come out. Then I’ll send them in again, make sure we haven’t missed anything underneath either of these poor ladies.’
I hadn’t realised until Kev said it that the SOCOs had finished up while we’d been talking, slipping out of the room like paper-clad ghosts. He edged towards the door himself.
‘If we’re done here, I’m just going to check how they’re getting on upstairs.’
‘Good stuff, Kev. Let us know when you’re finished.’ Godley waited until they had left the room and we were alone with the bodies. ‘So?’
‘Laura didn’t stand up,’ I said quietly. ‘She didn’t even know she was in danger. She knew her killer or she wasn’t scared.’
‘You know him,’ Derwent threw at Godley. ‘What do you think of Philip Kennford?’
‘I think he would make a good suspect. If he didn’t have an alibi.’
‘Which is?’
‘The first officers who responded found him lying unconscious in his bedroom – he was out cold. He’s the other person who was attacked. If you can work out how he beat himself up, you can put him at the top of the list of suspects.’ Godley shrugged. ‘Until then, he’s in the clear.’
Derwent frowned, thinking. He opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say was destined to remain unsaid, because out in the hall Glen Hanshaw was throwing an epic tantrum.
‘Some bastard’s blocked me in. Would the person driving the blue Honda please move their fucking car? I’m warning you, you’ve got five seconds before I ram it out of my way.’
‘Whoops.’ The expression on Derwent’s face could only have been described as naughty.
Godley raised his eyebrows. ‘Was that you?’
‘There was nowhere else.’ He sauntered towards the
door,
pulling his keys out of his pocket. ‘Better face the music, I suppose. How long have I got left?’
‘You’re into extra time. I’d hurry if I were you. Glen knows a hundred ways to kill a man without leaving a mark.’
‘Do I look worried?’ Derwent let the door swing closed behind him, but not before I heard him say in an ultra-innocent voice, ‘Sorry, is there some sort of problem?’
‘I’ve never heard Glen sound like that before.’ Godley sounded amused.
‘I’ve never even heard him swear.’
‘Josh does have a talent for bringing out the profane in people.’
‘That’s an understatement.’
Godley looked at me quickly. ‘You don’t mind him, do you?’
‘I’m used to him. I sort of don’t want to be there when he meets Philip Kennford, though. I don’t think he’s going to be terribly sympathetic.’
‘That’s why I keep him around. I’m hoping he can shake Kennford into telling me the truth. I have a feeling I’m being spun a line and I can’t think why.’ Godley shook his head. ‘Something about this just doesn’t seem right to me.’
I looked past him at the teenage girl’s body stiffening into its awkward pose. I didn’t say it, but it seemed to me patently obvious that there was nothing right about that at all.
Chapter Two
‘I’D HAVE THOUGHT
you’d be too busy to stay.’ Derwent was standing with his hands in his pockets, a scowl on his face.
‘I have time.’ Godley checked his watch. ‘Well, enough to speak to Kennford and his daughter.’
‘I can handle it.’ The scowl had deepened, if anything. ‘It’s not like you to want the limelight, boss.’
I winced in spite of myself. The media presence had trebled, if not quadrupled, since we’d been in the house. I had heard them shouting questions at everyone who came and went. I had been unwise enough to return to the car for my notebook. It was now bathed in bright light from the cameras, and my trip had provided at least thirty seconds of footage for the rolling news programmes to use over and over again, for the sake of having something to illustrate the human interest story of the night. It was summer. Nothing much was happening in the rest of the world. A forensic officer arriving after us had told me the Kennford murders were the lead on every bulletin, even though they couldn’t know what had happened inside the house. Not when we weren’t clear on it ourselves.
‘Come off it. Attention from the media is certainly not why I’m still here. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can.’ He checked his watch again. ‘It’s my name on the policy log, Josh. I need to see what direction this investigation is taking before I leave you to it. And besides, I know Kennford.’
‘Not well.’
‘To say hello to.’ Godley sighed. ‘If it was me, I’d want
the
SIO to take enough of an interest to meet the survivors. It’s the least I can do.’
Godley was the senior investigating officer, the man at the top, and he took his role seriously – as Derwent knew very well – no matter how many murder files he was currently handling. I stared at the inspector meaningfully.
Just drop it. It’s not going to happen
.
‘Let me interview the girl.’
‘I told you, you aren’t the right person for that.’ Godley leaned against the kitchen door, edging it open. ‘We’ll make it quick.’
He held the door open and I darted through it without meeting Derwent’s glare; it wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel guilty. On edge, perhaps … There would be retribution. I could count on that.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, a slab of white oak that could have accommodated ten people easily. A female officer was sitting beside her with a box of tissues on her knee. The inevitable cup of tea stood in front of the girl, steam rising from it. It didn’t look as if it had been touched. Her hair hung down in front of her face in narrow rats’ tails and I recalled that she had been swimming even as I noticed the faint tang of chlorine in the air. She hadn’t showered since she’d been in the pool, I thought, but she was dressed, in jeans and a long-sleeved top that hung off her tiny frame. I knew she was fifteen, but she looked no older than twelve.