DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (2 page)

‘Did you touch any other part of the body?’

‘No. I thought something was up when I saw the blood on my hand. I backed away quick.’

‘And your dog?’ added Allen.

‘Put him on a short lead. He was pretty quiet.’

‘She doesn’t seem to have had a handbag with her,’ Sophie said. She added no explanation.

‘I spotted that. But I didn’t try looking for one. I left everything as it was.’

Sophie nodded. ‘Why were you out so late, Mr Appleby?’

‘To take the dog out.’

‘Yes, I know that. But isn’t it rather late? Most people take their dogs out mid-evening.’

‘A bit of air helps me sleep better.’ He paused. ‘My wife left me a few months ago. It’s hard getting used to being alone.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Appleby. It was good of you to wait, and I’m sorry to have kept you so long. I’ll get one of the cars to take you home if you wish, once you’ve left your details with DS Marsh here. If you do remember anything else, please contact us immediately. Someone will be in contact with you tomorrow to take a formal statement. Thanks for your help.’

She climbed out of the car and walked back up Spring Hill to have a word with the forensic team.

‘We don’t know who she is,’ Sophie told them. ‘Can you have a look in her coat pockets? There doesn’t seem to be a bag anywhere, which is a bit odd.’

The senior forensic officer felt in the coat’s pockets. They contained nothing but a few coins and receipts. The photographer finished her work and they turned the body over. There was no bag underneath.

‘No keys anywhere?’ Sophie asked.

‘No. And no other cash, as far as I can tell. There’s no inside pocket on her coat, so unless we find something once we start examining her in the lab . . .’

Sophie thought about the lack of money, keys and other personal items. It looked like a mugging that had gone horribly wrong, but the mugger had still made off with the victim’s bag. Yet it didn’t feel right. Would a hesitant robber have used that much force in a single blow? From the doctor’s description of the wound, and the spread of blood, it looked as if the stabbing had been violent and deliberate, as Marsh had conjectured.

‘There doesn’t seem to be an umbrella. Is that right?’ she asked. ‘Yet her coat doesn’t have a hood.’

The forensic chief merely shrugged. Marsh came up to join them.

‘Appleby only lives a couple of hundred yards away, just off Kings Road. He said he’d prefer to walk.’

‘I don’t think he was involved, but we’ll need to check him out anyway.’ She paused. ‘Barry, this could be a difficult one, and we’ll be working together a lot. I don’t have a DI assigned to me at the moment because of staffing cuts, so you’ll be my second in command. We need to bounce ideas off each other. When we’re out on the case, like now, you can call me Sophie if you feel comfortable with it. I only need to be ma’am when it’s necessary. Is that okay?’

Marsh looked awkward. ‘If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll just call you ma’am. That’s if it’s alright with you?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled.

‘It’s just that you’re a bit of a legend in the division. It wouldn’t feel right to me . . . But I’m really glad to have the chance to work with you at last.’

Sophie wondered if he was blushing. It was too dark to tell. She felt a mixture of pride in the fact that her work was recognised and anxiety at the responsibility that came with it. She saw the genuine enthusiasm and respect in her new assistant’s face. It deserved a response.

‘Well, Barry. Thanks for that. I’ll still call you Barry, if you don’t mind. It’s a lot more personal than sergeant. Okay, this is what we’re going to do. We’ll wait until the forensics have finished with the body and taken it to pathology. Meanwhile, I’ll phone through to HQ and report our findings so far. I want you to walk around the top of the lane and have a look along the High Street. See if there’s anyone hanging about. Note any houses that have lights on, within hearing distance. We’ll have a quick word to see if they can add any information.’ She indicated the houses that had side windows looking onto the lane. ‘These houses here alongside the path, we’ll need to get them up whether there are lights on or not. I’ll make a start on that.’ She paused. ‘Is that a hotel near the top of the lane? On the High Street? There’s still a light on.’

‘Yes. It’s the Ballard View Hotel. Quite plush.’

‘See if the night porter saw or heard anything. After that we’ll call it a night. Try and get some sleep, and be ready for an early start in the morning. It would be a good idea for us to visit the cottages in that lane at the bottom of the path first thing tomorrow, before the residents have a chance to leave for work. Say about seven thirty? Are you okay for that?’

‘At Eldon Terrace? Fine.’

‘We’ll have our first incident meeting at nine tomorrow morning. You’re based at the local nick. Could you get them to start setting up an incident room there ready for us? And, by the way, you’ve made a good start.’

They spent an hour calling on the nearby flats and houses with little result. None of the occupants had realised that anything was amiss until they heard the sound of sirens, and the ensuing activity in the lane. Even the occupants of the flats that had windows and doors looking onto the Spring Hill path reported hearing nothing prior to the police and ambulance activity. Most of the flats were unoccupied holiday properties, and the owners were only there during the warmer months. Marsh called in at the hotel, but the night porter had seen and heard nothing from his office behind the reception desk.

The forensic team found little of use in the area around the body. Shortly after two, the body was removed and the forensic team packed up for the night, planning to return the next morning for a more detailed search of the path. Spring Hill was sealed off with a squad car parked at each end. The few onlookers drifted away, followed by the two detectives and the rest of the uniformed officers.

Sophie Allen glanced at her watch as she climbed into her car. Maybe she might manage four hours of sleep before the mayhem really started.

CHAPTER 2: Mother and Daughter

Tuesday, Week 1

Swanage police station stood on a side street off Kings Road. It was a hive of activity the next morning. Used to dealing with the more common rural and seaside resort crimes of petty theft, minor disorder and alcohol-fuelled assault, the local force had been shocked by the murder. The news had spread quickly in the small hours of the morning, and they had come in early to lend a hand. When Sophie arrived at the attractive Victorian building shortly after eight, she found an incident room already in place. She sought out the station’s senior officer, Inspector Tom Rose, to thank him. He was a local man who had returned to Swanage after three decades spent in different stations around the county.

‘The least we could do. It’s our town and we want this murder solved. By the way, a message came in for you confirming that the post-mortem is set for eleven in Dorchester.’

‘Thanks, Tom. We’re starting the review here at nine. Would you like to be there? You might have some useful input.’

Early that morning she and Marsh had visited all of the remaining cottages in Eldon Terrace. This narrow street ran at right angles to the lower end of the Spring Hill path. They’d called at the nearest houses on the south-facing side the night before, because their rear, upper windows would have had a view up the path. Some of the residents had been out then, watching the forensic team at work. No witnesses had been found but it was early days yet. Members of the forensic team had arrived shortly after daybreak, and were carrying out a meticulous search of the path, so she had let them get on with their work undisturbed. A number of officers were already searching the gardens of nearby properties, looking for the murder weapon.

By nine the meeting was under way. The atmosphere was calm and workmanlike. Sophie introduced herself and presented the core of her detective team to the assembled group. This consisted of herself and DS Barry Marsh, helped by DCs Jimmy Melsom and Lydia Pillay. Melsom was a young detective based at the station. Lydia Pillay was from the local divisional headquarters and had worked for Sophie on her previous two cases. She was in her late twenties and was bright and alert, a product of the fast-track scheme that recruited suitable graduates. She had driven to Swanage from the county headquarters at Winfrith.

Pillay had just finished pinning the photos of the crime scene to the display board. Sophie began by summarising the events of the previous night, then reviewed the initial lines of inquiry to be followed up that day. There was little to go on at the moment, and still no clue as to who the victim was. Sophie had decided to work with Melsom initially, starting with the post-mortem later in the morning. Marsh and Pillay were to remain in Swanage, overseeing the investigation into the victim’s identity. Most of the other local police officers were involved in tracing the identity of the victim or in the house-to-house enquiries in the vicinity of the crime scene. Two officers were chosen to sift through the national database and look for previous knife-based murders. Sophie was not optimistic that this would provide any leads. She tended to agree with Marsh that this crime wasn’t a random attack, but she couldn’t discount the possibility.

‘No assumptions, anybody. At this stage we keep open minds. We consider all possibilities and follow everything up thoroughly. And it will stay that way until I decide otherwise. Is that understood? Okay, let’s get to work.’

Sophie and Melsom left the incident room soon after ten to drive to Dorchester for the post-mortem. Melsom showed none of DS Marsh’s deference, despite being younger and less experienced. Sophie wondered if he was just a little too brash. She had been impressed with Marsh’s careful reasoning, and had few concerns about leaving him in charge. Time would tell whether Melsom would warrant the same level of confidence. He offered to drive, but Sophie refused.

‘If we take one of the pool cars then you can drive, but we’re going in mine this morning so I’ll drive.’

‘Okay,’ he said.

‘I’ll take that to mean “Yes, ma’am”, shall I?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.’

‘Apology accepted. Remember who I am and who you are, Jimmy. That way we’ll get on just fine.’

Sophie waited until they were out of town before speaking again.

‘Barry tells me you have the makings of a good detective, Jimmy. He thinks a lot of you.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, ma’am. I’m willing to work hard and learn.’

‘Good. I want you to act as an extra pair of eyes and ears today. When we’re interviewing anyone, I talk first while you watch and listen. You take the notes. Don’t interrupt unless you think I’ve missed something obvious. When I’ve finished my questions, I’ll always ask if you have any. Don’t ask anything just for the sake of it, only if it’s something that you think is important. If you want to mention something to me on the quiet, just raise your finger slightly. At this stage, you’re mainly here to observe, think and learn. We can discuss and reflect later.’

‘Understood, ma’am.’

Sophie’s car was unpretentious, a reliable and well-proven saloon, but it did have real power under the bonnet. It handled well along the narrow lanes of the West Country.

* * *

They arrived in plenty of time for the post-mortem.

‘I’m probably only going to be here for the initial external examination, Jimmy. It can get a bit too ghoulish for me once they start on the insides. Have you attended a PM before?’

‘No, ma’am,’ said Melsom.

‘In that case it would be better if you came away at the same time as me. We’ll get the rest of the information soon enough anyway.’

As it turned out, most of the useful information came in the first stages. Sophie knew the pathologist well. Benny Goodall had worked with her on previous cases and he was a family friend. The two officers had a quick coffee with him before moving on to the lab.

The pathologist’s assistant started by removing the clothing which was then searched and bagged ready for further examination. Nothing was found that would help identify the young woman. The victim had been wearing a dark jumper over a white blouse and a plain black knee-length skirt. Sophie wondered if these clothes were a uniform of some sort. She also had on black boots and pink, stripy socks. Her underwear looked relatively new and clean.

‘Can I have a quick look at the boots, please? Leave them in the bag.’

The assistant passed them to Sophie, who turned them over to look at the heels.

‘Look, Jimmy. The heels have a fairly hard surface, which means that they would have clicked as she walked. The attacker would have heard her coming.’

Benny Goodall made comments as he worked and his assistant took photos.

‘As I think you suspected, death was most probably due to the single knife wound to the chest. It’s deep but I can’t be sure just yet whether it has damaged the heart. If it did, death would have been nearly instantaneous. I’ll be looking at the internal organs later.’

‘Can you make any guesses about the weapon used?’ asked Sophie.

‘Probably a large-bladed knife, maybe a kitchen knife.’ He finished his examination of her torso, and transferred his attention to her head.

‘Now here we have a contusion on the back of her head, probably due to it striking the ground. There has been some bleeding. But do you notice the slight marks on her face?’

He stood aside to let Sophie see.

‘These are not fresh. There are signs of bruising on her right cheek and on the right side of her nose. She also has a slight bruise on her forehead. These are almost fully healed. I’d guess they are a couple of months old at least.’

‘Any ideas as to the cause?’

‘Not at this stage.’ He indicated a point on her throat. ‘There’s also very slight discolouration at this point on her neck. It would be wrong to jump to conclusions, but it could also be the residue of a bruise that’s nearly healed. If so, it’s older than the facial ones. There’s only a slight trace left.’

He worked in silence for a while.

‘There are bruises on the outsides of both arms.’ He wiped some dirt off her hands and wrists.

‘Look here. There are some faint scars on her wrists. Only just visible, so again probably from months ago.’

‘So she could well have been suffering violence for some time?’

Goodall nodded. ‘It looks that way, but I’ll need to do more detailed work to be sure.’

Sophie looked at the young woman’s face. It was slightly freckled, framed by her dark curly hair.

This girl had been about to enter the prime of her life. How had she ended up on this cold laboratory bench? How had she managed to collect these bruises and scars? It wasn’t just that she had experienced a sudden and tragic death. It appeared that she had been subjected to violence for some time.

‘Can you tell if she is right- or left-handed, Benny?’

The pathologist measured around each arm and felt the muscles.

‘Right-handed, I’d say. Her muscles are just that little bit more developed.’

She turned to Melsom. ‘These kinds of details should help us to visualise what happened. The path would have been slippery last night, and there's a handrail in the middle of the path. She’s more likely to have walked down on the left side so that her stronger arm was gripping the support. That ties in with the position her body was found in.’

Goodall completed his initial examination, finding a few more faded bruises on the shins.

‘I’m going to get her X-rayed before I go any further. If my guess is correct about these bruises, there may be bone damage.’

Sophie turned to go. ‘Thanks, Benny. We’re going to head off. Can you call me when you’ve finished? You’ve got my mobile number, haven’t you? You’ve done a fantastic job for us, thanks. I’d like to get a copy of all the photos. Is that possible? Can they be emailed to me?’

‘Of course. I’ll get my secretary onto it. And good luck with the investigations. Phone me if you need any more information.’

She turned back to have a final look at the victim, but said nothing further as they left. What was there to say? She had no words to describe her feelings about this young life that had ended in such a violent way.

* * *

They were back in Swanage within the hour. Sophie looked in on the incident room. Barry Marsh was on the phone. He saw her come in and gave her a wave and a thumbs-up sign.

‘Possible identity,’ he called excitedly across the room. Sophie joined him at the desk.

‘That was the manager from the Ballard View Hotel on the High Street. One of their bar staff can’t be contacted. When I asked for a description, it matched exactly. About five foot six with long, dark, curly hair. Name’s Donna Goodenough. She lives half a mile away in Gilbert Road.’

‘From the murder scene?’ she asked, re-buttoning her jacket.

‘From here as well. It’s the far side of the railway station. A house that’s been converted into flats. She has the first floor.’

‘It’s taken them a bit of time to report it, hasn’t it? They must have known about the murder. Isn’t that the hotel you called at last night? I’d imagine the whole town knew by this morning. Why didn’t they report it earlier?’

‘She’d been working the late shift this week. Started at three in the afternoon and worked through until eleven. When the manager heard about the murder, she started ringing round the staff but left Donna until last, since she liked to sleep in when she was working late in the evening. They weren’t able to contact her either on her landline or her mobile. I saw the night porter last night, and he told me he hadn’t seen or heard anything, but his office is tucked away round the corner from the entrance. And there’s something else. That broken street light in Spring Hill was working earlier in the evening yesterday. One of the local house-owners reckoned that it must have gone out sometime between eight and ten.’

‘Well, that’s interesting. We’ll follow it up later. Okay, let’s move. I want us all there, and a squad car.’ She called across to the two officers carrying out the database search. ‘By the way, there are signs of old bruises on the victim’s body. Face, wrists, legs. I want one of you to switch your search to look for stabbings with a domestic violence background. If nothing comes up, just follow up the beating theme. This may be the first time he’s used a knife. We might be lucky and find something. But first contact the council about the broken street light. I don’t want it fixed without one of us there with forensics. Make that absolutely clear to them.’

* * *

Sophie’s car drew to a halt outside the house, and she led the way to the front door. The building was a substantial, red-brick structure with a small front garden. The historic railway station was directly opposite, with a restored steam engine hissing gently beside one of the platforms. The door wasn’t locked, so they hurried up the stairs to the first-floor flat and rang the bell. When there was no reply, Sophie told Melsom to go down to the lower flat and see if its occupants had a key. Pillay was sent to the upper flat with one of the uniformed constables. Marsh hammered on the door, but there was no answer. Melsom was back quickly.

‘We’re in luck.’ He handed the key over. Pillay came back down the stairs. ‘No one in,’ she said.

Sophie opened the door.