Time to Play (North East Police) (17 page)

Marlo headed down the corridor and decided that her bladder suddenly couldn't wait until after coffee. She reached the bathroom door and froze as she heard what she thought was a sneeze at the bottom of the stairs. Suspicious, she quietly made her way down and paused, her head cocked to one side as she listened intently.

Silence reined, and she pulled open the door, sticking her head outside and glancing around the rear yard. There was no one there.

Must be my imagination, could've sworn that sneeze was real. All the crap this morning must have me on edge. Definitely in need of caffeine!

She made her way back upstairs and within minutes was seated back in the briefing room. Taking a moment, she glanced around. Mac and Doc were both sat together, and Mac looked pale but his eyes were sharp. Doc looked relieved. Marlo knew it had been hard seeing his friend collapse like that. Connor looked exhausted, his eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles shadowing his cheeks.

Edging a little closer to him, she quietly said, ‘You OK? You look like hell.’

‘Gee thanks, Marlo. Had no idea how shit I looked this morning.’ His sarcasm was evident but before she could respond, he sighed and added, ‘Parent issues. Been up all night trying to keep my mum calm. She has early onset Alzheimer’s and last night was a bad one.’

‘Sorry, hon. Do you look after her on your own?’

‘No. Dad looks after her, but sometimes… well sometimes he just can’t cope. So I help out. She should be in a home, somewhere that can give her the care she needs, but Dad’s stubborn. He won’t even entertain the idea. He’s old-school where his marriage vows are concerned.’

‘Nightmare. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Take the lead if we get a job? I could so do with not diving today.’

Marlo nodded, and was soon interrupted by Sharpie as he said, ‘Right folks, we have a job.’

Both she and Connor sighed as he told them the details.

10
^th
November, 0810 hours – stairwell, Dive Team HQ, South Shields

Elvie froze after a sudden sneeze escaped from her without warning. Her heart started to thud in her chest as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Someone heard! They’re going to find me!

She held her breath as the footsteps approached, hearing her heart beat pounding inside her ears. She was convinced whoever was coming down the stairs would find her, and then what? She’d be in big trouble, that’s what.

Her eyes widened as the woman came into view. Elvie was well hidden by the tarp. The woman would have to actually come looking, but it didn’t stop the fear. She felt bile rise up into her throat from her tummy. All that junk food was doing nothing for her constitution.

She saw the woman cock her head to one side, listening intently, and almost gasped as the woman opened the door that led out to the yard.

For a moment, Elvie contemplated running. Just pushing past the woman and heading out of the door as fast as her legs would carry her, but she couldn’t. Deep down she knew if she ran she’d get caught. Then the police would do whatever police did in this country. She had no reason to believe that would be anything good. In her country, they would take her to the station, and she would be treated with disdain, if not violence. They operated under the pretence that they were law enforcement, but the reality, especially in the outlying small villages, was that any enforcement was on their terms. Sure, there were a few good ones, but they didn’t come with a flashing sign on their heads saying ‘I’m a good guy’.

So she stayed where she was.

She heard the woman mutter under her breath, and then the woman’s boots thudded as she made her way back up the stairs towards the break room.

That was close. I need to find somewhere else to hide. Maybe I should just leave, go and find Nita and we can find somewhere together.

‘
Yeah right
,’ her conscience argued back, ‘
As if there’s anywhere to hide for two girls who don’t have any money or know the country. You wouldn’t know where to start
.’

But I can’t stay here forever.

‘
No one’s saying stay forever. But you go out there and there’ll never be anyone to help you. Stay here and figure it out
.’

Elvie felt a giggle rise and quickly put her hands over her mouth, stifling it. What the hell was she doing? Arguing with herself? The nervous laughter dissipated.

What on Earth was she going to do?

10
^th
November, 1420 hours – Sunderland City Police HQ

Ali juggled the three files with a cup of steaming coffee as he made his way to the meeting room on the floor above his office. He wasn’t happy. The team had their own meeting room next door to the office – it was used for all the forensic strategy meetings, the daily briefings and so on. But the superintendent had booked it solid for the next month. Ali didn’t even know what for, but it all seemed very hush-hush and it didn’t sit well.

He bent slightly, using the elbow he held the files in to open the handle to the meeting room door, and then used his hip to push it open. His coffee sloshed precariously close to the edge of the cup, but somehow stayed inside.

He glanced around as he made his way to the top of the table, at which point his files dislodged slightly and went to fall. He put his cup down first, spilling half his coffee on the desk and swore as he used his free hand to grab at the tumbling files.

Acting sergeant Charlie Quinn pulled a wad of tissue from her bag and mopped up the coffee, flashing him a grin.

‘One of those days, boss?’ she asked.

‘Every day’s one of those days at the minute. Right, let’s get started. Where are we at with the Burton murder?’

He turned his gaze towards Tony Cartwright first. He was in charge of the POLSA search team that had been on duty the day Burton had been found.

‘Just a load of trash, boss. No knife or other bladed implement in the area. Evidence seized is just the generic stuff we’d expect to find in an alley: cans, crisp packets and the like. We did find a couple of syringes which may tie into the drugs link. They’re in freezer storage so we can use them if need be. We did a search at his home too. Came up with 20k hidden under one of the floorboards. All unmarked, non-sequential bills of different denominations. His lass looked as shocked as we did, though she’s already asking for it. She seems to think he’s been squirreling money away for her and the bairn. There was a black notebook found also, but it reads like gobbledegook. It’s possibly some kind of code, but I don’t know a thing about that stuff.’

Ali nodded, and looked at Charlie expectantly.

‘We’ve done the house-to-house. Surprisingly no one saw or heard anything. Checked the Aldi store for CCTV but it’s been hit by vandals wanting to nick from the store without being watched. The engineer’s apparently scheduled to repair it next week – which doesn’t help us.

‘I’ve spoken with his girlfriend… Tracy I think her name is off the top of my head. She seems to think it’s down to his old life. Apparently Burton was into some not so sweet and light things. She didn’t know what exactly but said that his old bosses had had her kidnapped when she was pregnant with the bairn, which is now a few months old. It was never reported to police, but Danny apparently got it sorted, and is now out of the life. We all know it’s not that easy though.’

‘What was he into?’

‘She doesn’t know. She suspected it might be drugs but never found any evidence and he kept her right out of it. Said he just called it “business”. She did say he hated it, though. The kidnapping was the last straw, apparently. To her knowledge he had finished with it all and was working at a garage in Southwick. The garage have never heard of him and confirm he’s never been an employee there. We’ve checked the associates on the intel systems, one listed as…’ Charlie paused as she checked her notes. ‘… Gary Dobson, though the intel’s a few years old now. The last address listed must be an old one, as the current tenants have no idea who Dobson is. We have a warrant out for a fail to appear from a couple of years ago, but it’s a reasonable assumption that Dobson is in the wind.

‘Danny’s younger brother, Kyle, is also listed. I’m attending his home address later today. The notebook Tony mentioned is being looked at by HQ at the minute, but they may well send off to a cryptographer to decipher if they can’t work it out up there.’

Kevin waited until Ali glanced his way before speaking.

‘Not a lot from the scene as it stands. PM showed the laceration to his neck to be cause of death. He bled out, though not in the alley. The body was dumped there. The initial crime scene is still to be established. We did swab the skin on his face. Burton had been beaten so there’s a chance of mixed profile DNA. Might give us a lead. Submissions have already authorised it to be sent off. We did find trace amounts of sawdust on his clothing which might be identifiable if we can locate something to compare it to. His mobile phone’s been sent over to Jacob Tulley in the digital forensics lab. He’s putting a rush on it, though you know how slow a rush is over there. Never seen such a busy department.

‘His nails were scraped at the PM but Nigel doesn’t think there’s anything there as he had no evidence of defensive wounds. I’d hazard a guess he knew his attacker, but he might equally just have been surprised. His clothing is in the property store. I’ve tasked Johnny to do fibre tapes, and check for trace today. You never know, our killer might’ve left us a hair or two.’

‘Great, thanks guys.’

Kevin stood to leave, knowing it was the end of his part in the meeting. And Ali opened the second file.

10
^th
November, 2040 hours – Ryhope, Sunderland

He couldn’t do it. For the first time, he felt something akin to regret. He just wanted this all to be over. His control was slipping and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. Not panic that the bodies would be found, the chances of that happening would be a miracle. He’d put them somewhere that no one would ever find them.

It wasn’t even the girl in the cage. He’d gone in the night before and fed her, given her some pain killers, and documented the session. She was stronger than the rest, he could tell. She would last the longest, which meant months of her learning. He knew she would be the one to understand, too, to comprehend that he was just teaching her to be able to cope with the pain. It wasn’t his intent to be cruel, but they
needed
to learn.

No one should have to go through what he was feeling. It was so raw and strong at times that he thought his heart might actually split in two. Today was one of those days.

He was standing outside the room, his head leaning on the door frame, and was ashamed to admit that he was crying. Not massive great heaving sobs, but the silent tears that trickled down your cheek when you didn’t even realise they were there. The soul-destroying kind of sadness that hid so deep inside it was rarely released. It felt like it would never stop, had been building in momentum for weeks. A thousand dead souls screaming at him and telling him that all the shit in the world was his fault.

Maybe it is. Maybe I should just kill myself and be done with it.

At this errant thought, his expression stilled. He somehow managed to push the sadness and tears back inside the box from whence they came, and a slow burn of shame appeared instead. He was too much of a coward to kill himself.

He swiped at the remnants of the salty rivers on his cheeks, set his expression, and went inside.

Chapter Seventeen

10
^th
November, 2050 hours – Dive Team HQ, South Shields

Marlo stepped out of the shower in the functional ladies’ room and wrapped her towel around her. She’d been in the shower for twenty minutes and could still smell the sickly sweet stench of ‘dead guy’.

The job they’d been called to that morning had turned out to be a long one. The RIB had to navigate through reeds and water lilies to get to a small island in the middle of a river. How the body had even been spotted she didn’t know, but it had been there for a while and was ripe.

It had been a man, at least she thought he was a man. Most of his head was missing – the blast from the shot gun at his feet had turned his brain to mush and shattered the bones in his face and skull. She knew that both the pathologist, and Deena who had attended the scene, would agree it was a suicide. The note tucked in his pocket had been the clincher.

As the team had manoeuvred the body, the flesh had released its hold on the muscles due to the build-up of gases. The skin had split, covering both Marlo and Deena in stinking body fluids. Among those fluids were the decaying lipids that stick to your hair and clothes, and even lodged in your pores. Marlo had only ever had it happen once before. And that hadn’t been this bad.

Even now as she stood drying her hair, she caught a waft of the stench and almost gagged. Sharpie and Connor had had the grace not to laugh, but she could see they were glad it hadn’t been them. They’d all gone home an hour before, but there was no way she was leaving the nick smelling like she’d crawled backwards through a rubbish dump filled with toxic waste and dead fish.

Sighing, she unwrapped the towel, and stepped back under the shower head, setting the temperature to a notch below scalding. Her dry suit had been bagged for the incinerator: there was no getting back from the filthiness and biohazard dead guy juices presented. It seeped through the white crime scene suits, soaked into the top of her boots, and the cuffs above her gloves. It was standard procedure in cases like this that all clothing and shoes be burnt and new kit issued. She sighed again.
Damn, that means breaking in a new pair of boots.