Dead and Gone (6 page)

The second officer, who had been talking on his radio, joined them at this point. ‘Sergeant Binns has ordered paramedics and a mountain rescue team. They’ll be here as soon as….’ His voice tailed off as he stared at the verge near the farmer’s vehicle. ‘Would you mind driving fifty yards further up the road?’ he asked.

‘Look, officer,’ the farmer replied, ‘I came up here to gather some of my sheep. I’ve got to get them to mart today, otherwise I’ll miss the sale and it could be costly for me – and my family,’ he added by way of an afterthought to emphasize his situation. ‘I only came across the accident, I didn’t actually see anything. If I give you my name and address, can I come to the station in Helmsdale this evening and make a statement then? That way, I might still get my sheep in the sale.’

‘I’m not sure. What do you think?’ The officer turned to his colleague.

‘I don’t see why not. But you can’t go to Helmsdale, the station will be closed. Let me check with my sergeant.’ Reaching for his radio, he moved away.

While he waited, the farmer gave his details to the remaining officer and confirmed when he had driven up the hill; he was conscious of time slipping by and the fact that, as yet, he hadn’t actually found his sheep.

‘It’s OK, but the sergeant says you’ll have to go to Netherdale to give your statement.’

‘Then I can go?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘I suppose so. But make it quick before we close the road. You’ll have to go down the far side of the Ghyll.’

As the farmer hastily drove away, the officer signalled to his colleague. He pointed to the tyre tracks he had spotted on the verge, obscured by the farmer’s Land Rover. ‘What do you make of them?’

The second man stared at the tracks at the far side of the road, then turned to look at the ones close to where the vehicle had gone over the edge. ‘The car was being driven across the road, not along it.’

‘Yes, but it looks as though it was parked there and then manoeuvred before it went over: look at the ruts. Not even someone blind drunk would do that accidentally. It doesn’t make sense, unless it was done deliberately, and that means….’

‘It means that depending on the condition of the car’s occupant we’re looking at either suicide, murder or an attempt at one of the two. And that means we’ll have to get CID involved. I’d better get back onto Jack Binns.’

The chambermaid at the Golden Bear Hotel in Netherdale enjoyed her work. She had lived in England for over two years, having been encouraged by her sister to move from Gdansk. She had been dubious at first, although she liked England and English people. She had heard some bad stories from other Polish migrants about people having to take menial jobs such as washing cars, but soon discovered that they were well rewarded for the work. Nevertheless, she preferred her job, especially when it rained or snowed, which she found it did a lot in England. She was halfway through her morning stint and was looking forward to sitting down with a mug of coffee. She reached the second floor and carefully steered her trolley out of the lift. She glanced at her worksheet: only one room to service on this floor then she could take her break.

Halfway along the corridor, she paused and stared at the door of one of the rooms. Something was wrong. Someone had splashed something on the door. It looked like paint. The ‘Do not disturb’ sign was hanging from the doorknob. It had been there since the previous evening. She remembered it distinctly, thinking that the man in that room must have gone to bed really early. Either that, she remembered with a giggle, or he was…. Well, as a chambermaid, you get to witness a lot of human behaviour that others don’t see. She wondered if he’d gone out and forgotten the sign. Alternatively, he could be unwell. She didn’t think so. She’d seen the man a couple of times, either entering or leaving his room, and he looked quite young and
fit. Still, she ought to check. And at the same time ask about the paint.

She tapped lightly on the door. ‘Room service,’ she called out, but got no response. Perhaps he had gone out after all. She glanced at her watch. It was after 10 a.m. He couldn’t still be asleep, surely? Unless he’d been, what was the English word? ‘Bonking’, that was it. Unless he’d been bonking all night. She giggled and knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing from inside the room.

Without conscious thought that she might be intruding on an intimate encounter, she took out her master key card. The room was in darkness, the curtains closed. ‘Room service, Mr Jennings. Are you all right?’

There was no reply. She groped for the switch and turned the light on. At first, everything seemed to be in order, except that the bed didn’t appear to have been slept in. She reached behind her and took the sign from the doorknob, intending to replace it on the small dressing table under the window. As she approached the table, she noticed a pair of feet protruding from alongside the foot of the bed. She stood still, and as her gaze travelled to the rest of the body she let out one long, shuddering breath. The pool of blood that covered the man’s chest had flooded the carpet alongside him and splashed in liberal quantities across the wallpaper and curtains as well as the bedlinen. It was only when she regained her breath that she turned and ran from the room.

Sergeant Jack Binns strode into Nash’s office without knocking. For him to do that meant trouble; the look on Binns’ face merely confirmed it. In a few terse sentences, Binns explained what the traffic officers had found at Stark Ghyll.

‘OK, Jack, we’ll head on out there. Any word on who was in the car?’

‘Not yet. Mountain rescue have arrived. They’re rigging some form of block and tackle; reckon it’s the only way to reach the vehicle. They’re going to send one of their men down first
– they’re all first-aid trained – and then hopefully, if needed, lower a paramedic.’

‘There’s no chance this is someone disposing of an old banger, I suppose? And that the car was empty when it went over the edge?’

‘No such luck. The traffic guys say that although it’s now only fit for scrap, it appears to be a late model BMW. I suppose it could have been stolen and dumped. I’ll check it out when I’ve got the details. But just to be on the safe side I’ve got an air-sea rescue Sea King and the air ambulance on standby, although the traffic officers reckon that’s a wasted effort.’

Binns had just finished speaking when Nash’s phone rang. He signalled to Binns to remain. ‘Morning, Jackie,’ he greeted the caller. The uniformed sergeant exchanged glances with Mironova. They saw Nash’s expression change as he listened to Superintendent Fleming’s opening words.

‘More trouble,’ Binns whispered to Mironova. ‘They say troubles come in threes; I wonder what the third will be.’

They listened as Nash was speaking. ‘Yes, we’ve a suspicious incident at Stark Ghyll. The first thought was that it was an accident, but the traffic officers reckon it was deliberate. However, in view of what you’ve told me, I’ll send Clara and Viv Pearce out to deal with that. I’ll head straight to Netherdale and meet you at the Golden Bear.’

He put the phone down. ‘A chambermaid at the Golden Bear found one of the guests with his throat slashed from ear to ear. I’m off to meet Jackie and Lisa there. Clara, you know what to do. Take Viv and go to Stark Ghyll. See what you think.’

‘The Golden Bear will be getting a bad reputation. That’s not the first time something like that has happened there,’ Clara remarked. ‘And if Lisa is at the scene, it’s sure to bring back unpleasant memories for her.’

Some years earlier, DC Lisa Andrews, based at Netherdale HQ, and Nash, had investigated a double murder at the Golden Bear. They cleared the main suspect, a man who later became Lisa’s partner.

When Mironova and Pearce reached the scene, Stark Ghyll was bathed in warm sunshine, the magnificent views in total contrast to the grim nature of the task facing the emergency services. Where the winding ascent levelled out, the road was cluttered with all manner of vehicles. There were two Land Rovers, both bearing the logo of the mountain rescue team. Added to these were an ambulance and three police cars. The equipment from a fire engine was being offloaded.

One of the traffic officers who had been first on the scene hurried over to the detectives, bringing with him the team leader from the mountain rescue unit. ‘We’ve rigged a line up, but the mountainside is so steep, anyone going down has to more or less abseil. One of our chaps is down there already. As far as he can tell there’s only one occupant, and that’s a male, trapped in the driving seat. However, the car’s such a mess, he can’t be one hundred per cent sure there’s nobody else in there. Nor is he sure whether the driver is alive or dead; he thought he felt a pulse when he reached through the driver’s window.’

The police officer continued. ‘We needed someone down there as soon as possible and one of the paramedics has volunteered to be lowered.’ The officer grinned. ‘Actually, I think his boss volunteered him for the job. They’ve been instructed to smash the windscreen to access the driver better. Only after he reports will we know if we need to hurry or not.’

‘I’m surprised you need to smash the screen,’ Pearce commented. ‘I’d have thought it would have smashed on the way down.’

‘It must be one of those shatterproof glasses. The screen’s broken right enough, but still intact, if you get my meaning.’

At that moment the radio held by the mountain rescuer crackled into life. ‘I think I can see child seats in the back and there’s another one further down the hill. I’m trying to see but it’s just too much of a mess. Everything’s crushed. God, I hope there’s no little ones in there.’

The response was instant. ‘You help the paramedic first and
I’ll send more help down to check it out with you.’ He turned away and began firing instructions to others, similarly clad in climbing gear.

Pearce and Mironova walked to the edge of the cliff and looked over as a second man began the descent. They watched anxiously as he was lowered slowly down the steep mountain face, his progress made difficult by the rucksack strapped to his back. ‘I reckon they’re wasting their time,’ Viv muttered. ‘I don’t see how anyone could survive a drop like that, especially when you see the state of the car.’

‘I know what you mean. But we’ve seen plenty of instances where cars have ended up as crumpled wrecks and the drivers have walked away with barely a scratch.’ She turned away.

‘You OK, Clara?’

‘Yes, it’s just, well … if there are children….’

Viv Pearce smiled and placed a reassuring hand on her arm as she took a deep breath.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we need to check with the traffic guys and see if they’ve taken any photos yet. Go talk to them. Ask them to take some of the vehicle from up here. If they use their telephoto lens they can try and pick up the registration from the number plate if the angle allows. But don’t let them try if it’s too risky; we don’t want anyone else going over the edge. I’ll go and talk to the mountain rescue people and the paramedics.’

‘Morning, sir.’ The officer stationed by the door to the corridor acknowledged Nash when he arrived at the Golden Bear. Nash accepted the bag containing protective clothing and continued past him to find Superintendent Fleming and DC Andrews waiting in the open doorway to the room. Standing in the corridor was a harassed-looking man who Jackie introduced as the hotel manager. ‘The chambermaid identified the dead man as the room’s resident. He’s been staying here three days, registered as Paul Jennings, with an address in Leeds. Mexican Pete and a SOCO team are inside.’

Both women were clad in disposable suits and overshoes,
which had already caused a number of curious glances from guests who had been asked to vacate their rooms temporarily.

‘I take it you’ve been in?’ Nash asked, glancing over their shoulders as he spoke.

‘Yes, but luckily we didn’t have to stay long, because SOCO arrived so we were able to make our escape. It’s a bloodbath, I’m afraid.’

‘I’d better take a look.’

‘While you’re doing that, we’ll go downstairs. I think the manager is in need of a sit down.’ Jackie began to remove her protective clothing, indicating that Lisa should do the same.

Nash ripped open the plastic bag and struggled into the paper suit, watched with interest by the young constable standing guard. As he stepped through the doorway, the pathologist, who was kneeling alongside the corpse, looked up. ‘Ah, Mike, I felt sure it wouldn’t be long before you arrived. Did you get a phone call, or were you aroused by the scent of blood?’

‘No, I couldn’t smell it. Unfortunately, the wind was in the wrong direction.’ Nash stepped carefully round the stained carpet, looking around the room as he did so. ‘What do you reckon was the cause of death? Poisoned?’

Professor Ramirez smiled slightly. ‘Unlikely, nor do I think he cut himself shaving. Several stab wounds to the chest and his throat slashed. But I’ll know more—’

‘I know, after the post-mortem,’ Nash finished for him. ‘No sign of the weapon, I suppose.’ Nash looked at the SOCO team leader, who was listening to the conversation.

‘Yes,’ the man answered. ‘Found this in the bathroom.’ He held up a plastic box, which contained a large kitchen knife.

Ramirez added, ‘Which also rules out suicide. That, I guess, was going to be your next question. And as to the next-
but-one
question, I’d estimate time of death as yesterday evening sometime, say between six o’clock and midnight.’

‘You seem to have answered all my questions without me asking them,’ Nash said. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’

‘Only that I’ve got a meeting to attend tomorrow. So unless
you find any other bodies for me I want to do the post-mortem today. I’ll ring you with a time.’

The SOCO officer spoke again. ‘There are a fair few fingerprints in here so it will take a while to eliminate the staff. I’ll let you know if we find anything relevant. We’ve also recovered a mobile phone from the dressing table, which I assume belongs to the victim.’

‘I’ll need to take a look at that once you’ve finished with it,’ Nash told him. ‘Well, you seem to be playing nicely, so I’ll leave you to it.’

The only reply was a grunt from the pathologist. It might have been ‘goodbye’, but Nash doubted it.

He placed the suit and overshoes in the bag provided before heading downstairs to find Jackie Fleming. Seeing three people clad like something from a science fiction film or an episode of
CSI
would have caused even more incredulous stares from guests.

The receptionist smiled at him and indicated a short passageway to the side of her desk. There, in the manager’s office, he found the superintendent and DC Andrews. ‘Like you said, a real bloodbath,’ Nash told them. ‘Has anyone asked if Jennings had any visitors? Apart from the one we know about,’ he added with a grim smile.

‘That’s not as easy as it sounds,’ Jackie told him. ‘The receptionist on duty at the moment confirmed that she hadn’t been asked for Jennings, or his room. But then, she only does the morning and early afternoon shift. Another receptionist takes over at three p.m. and works until just after midnight, and when she finishes, the night porter is in charge of reception.’

‘That’s rather late, isn’t it?’ Nash turned to the manager for explanation.

‘We get a lot of coach parties staying here and some of them don’t arrive until gone eleven, so by the time they’ve registered and been allocated their rooms it can be very late.’

Jackie continued. ‘He has tried to ring the off-duty receptionist and the night porter, but got no response from either of
them.’ She smiled reassuringly at the man, seated behind his desk clutching a, by now, cold cup of tea and obviously struggling to come to terms with the morning’s events.

‘They probably switch their phones off in order to get some sleep,’ Nash commented. ‘I don’t see that there’s much more we can do here at the moment.’

The detectives thanked the manager and stepped into the reception area to continue their conversation. Across in the lounge, uniformed officers were taking statements from the guests on-site. The lift doors opened and Professor Ramirez stepped out. ‘Ah, Nash, you’re still here. Saves me a phone call. I’m going. My patient is leaving by the goods lift. I’ll expect you at two, sharp, after I’ve had my lunch.’

Jackie Fleming smiled as she watched him leave. ‘Talkative today, isn’t he?’ The others nodded in agreement as she turned to Nash and said, ‘We need to look into the dead man’s background.’