Reprobates (17 page)

On the officers
’ approach to Derek Harper’s house they could see that the downstairs curtains of Number 5, Hawthorne Terrace, Lee Mount were closed. As they got nearer they could see the linings were badly discoloured and haphazardly hung.

‘
Just so you know if we get offered a drink, I’ll be refusing,’ said Vicky.

‘You
’re not the only one,’ said Dylan.

‘
Bet his neighbours love him,’ Vicky said, easing her scarf from around her neck as they arrived at the gate. She stopped. ‘But it’s just how I imagined his house would be, horrible and creepy... just like him.’

The gate was rusty and Vicky winced as she cut her finger on the catch. Blood seeped from the wound; her shoe found the gate and she kicked it the rest of the way open. Bouncing to and fro off the wall it broke away from its hinges and crashed to the floor.
‘Oops,’ she grimaced standing it carefully against the overgrown hedge. Dylan shook his head and sighed.

The two walked up the short path and turned down the ginnel at the side of the house before finding the back door. They were careful as to where they trod. The path was littered with debris held up by clumps of weeds. As Vicky stood under the porch and knocked on the door, Dylan scanned the back yard with his expert eye. They both paused, cocked their heads and listened for a moment. Vicky reached forward and gave the door handle a turn but it was locked. They looked at each other. Vicky shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows at Dylan then turned and followed him around the corner and into the back yard. It was surprisingly empty, quiet and still. There was a brick built shed behind them that might have once been a coal bunker and attached presumably would have been the outside toilet which was standard for the type and age of the terrace house.

‘God, it stinks out here.’

‘
Probably the drains under the yard from the old khazi. Outside toilet to you, Vicky. A bit before your time,’ said Dylan.

‘My
granny had one at the farm and she used to have us cutting newspapers up into squares and threading it on string to put behind the door.’

Most outside toilets had been knocked down long ago and Dylan could understand why when he smelt the aroma which was making Vicky now gag into a tissue. The old soot-blackened brick walls were in shadow, and so too was a tree that pushed its foliage through into the light. The buds of its leaves were making an appearance and old, dark brown, rotting leaves lay beneath it on the flags.

‘The mints not working?’ asked Dylan.

‘
No, not this time,’ she said. She clenched her teeth, shuddered and showed him the goose bumps that had arisen on her forearm.

Dylan walked across the flagstones and hammered on the door with his fist. To his surprise it was answered immediately. Stood before them in a grubby white vest and Y-fronts was Derek Harper. He had a grey tuft of hair on his chin like a tusk and looked a lot older now than his years.

‘What do you want, I’m busy,’ he said, clearing his throat and spitting into a filthy rag that he used as a handkerchief.

Dylan re-introduced themselves to him.

‘I know who you are. Like I said, what do want? You lot cost me my job, isn’t that enough?’

‘Aren
’t you going to invite us in?’ Dylan said walking past him into the kitchen.

‘
And get some clothes on will you. That’s not a pleasant sight,’ Vicky said, walking in behind Dylan. Her eyes strayed everywhere in the room other than look at his half naked frame. The kitchen had a heavy cooking lardy smell about it. The doors leading off it were firmly closed. Harper muttered something that neither officer could make out, his upper lip appeared to writhe back from his teeth. He turned and reached for a greasy mac that had been strewn over the back of an upright, plastic chair.

‘
Well? What do you want?’ he asked

‘Sit down. We
’ll ask the questions.’

Harper sat.

‘Tell me why you were taking pictures of naked dead bodies?’ asked Dylan.

Derek Harper
’s every movement had a deliberate hesitation as if he was used to waiting on an order.

‘
Well?’

‘
Fisher told you. I might have known. He said to get rid of it. Come on, it was a joke.’

‘
And who the hell do you know who would find that sort of thing funny?’

His face was grey and tense. His long neck showed the strain.

Dylan sat down very carefully as though he considered if the seat was fit for purpose. He leaned towards Derek Harper. Derek Harper was hesitant. His lips were pale.

‘
Some people I know do but I’m not going to name them.’

Dylan raised his eyebrows and tilted his head back slightly as he did so.
‘The dead body. It was a female wasn’t it?’

‘
A dead female? Yes. Look it was just a one off.’

‘
Can we have a look at your mobile, Mr Harper?’

Vicky flinched as if she
’d been bitten, and bending down rubbed her leg above her boot with frantic fingers. Derek Harper looked at her for a long moment. ‘Why? I told you I erased it,’ he said, his purposeful gaze returning to Dylan’s face.

‘
And if we believed everything people told us, Mr Harper, we’d never get anywhere. Mobile phone, please?’ he asked, holding out his hand.

‘Battery
’s flat.’

‘Mobile!
’

Harper hesitated, his eyes grew darker.

‘Don’t you need a warrant?’

‘
Do you want me to get one? We...’ he said, glancing up at Vicky. ‘We were hoping you’d co-operate. Or do you have something to hide?’ he asked, staring at Harper with sharp, squinty eyes and a hard mouth drawn in a tight line.

Derek Harper
’s face twitched, his brows knitted together tightly. Dylan knew he had touched a nerve. Now, which way was Derek Harper going to play it, he wondered.

‘It
’s in my den,’ he said getting to his feet. ‘If you’ll just wait there.’ He turned. The officers were right behind him. ‘I’ll get it. I said wait there,’ he said, turning to face them with his hand raised. With a speediness he didn’t look capable of he opened the door and slipped inside the adjoining room. He attempted to close the door but Dylan just as rapidly put his foot out to stop it.

‘
Just making sure you don’t try anything,’ Dylan said when Derek Harper came nose to nose with him.

Derek Harper took his hand from the door jamb and stepped back into the den. Dylan
’s foot kicked it wide open.

What the officers saw inside didn
’t seem to belong to the rest of the house. There were two large computer screens facing them, one with a web cam attached and in front of a big modern desk was two tall, leather executive chairs that Chief Superintendent Hugo-Watkins would have been proud to own.

‘
Welcome to my little den,’ he said, thrusting his hand in the far side desk drawer. His fingers closed on the object he sought and pulling it out he forced himself to put the mobile phone into Dylan’s outstretched hand. Turning towards the officer he held out his arms as if to usher them, albeit not touching them, back into the kitchen.

Dylan passed the mobile to Vicky.

Derek Harper closed the den door and stood with his back to it.

‘
What are you hiding, Derek?’ Dylan asked watching intently for any reaction.

‘
Nothing, I’m not hiding anything. That’s mine. It’s private. I don’t like people messing with my things.’

Vicky addressed Derek Harper.
‘It’s flat, the battery’s flat,’ she said, indicating the phone. ‘Where’s your charger?’

‘I
’m not sure. I don’t know.’ He was trembling.

‘
Convenient. Derek, what’s the problem here? If there’s nothing on the mobile to incriminate you, why the stalling? We are going to check it either here or down at the station. Your choice.’

Dylan had his back to the kitchen window. He watched Harper go back into his office. Within seconds he returned with a lead. Vicky plugged it into a socket in the kitchen and was soon looking at pictures on its camera. Her breathing was laboured as she stared intently at the images.

‘And now we know why you didn’t want us to look, don’t we?’ she said.

‘
I should have erased them, shouldn’t I?’ he asked.

‘
You shouldn’t have taken them in the first place. You have no idea of the seriousness of this, do you?’ she said, holding the phone out for Dylan to see a selected image.

‘
What else are we going to find, Mr Harper?’ Dylan said.

Derek Harper was physically shaking and he paused before replying.

‘I asked you is there anything else?’ Dylan said. He swallowed hard.

‘
Nothing. Now go. Leave me alone.’

Dylan flicked through more images.
‘I’ve seen enough. Get uniform here to transport him to the station, Vicky. I don’t want him in my car. Derek Harper, you are under arrest for possession, publishing and distributing obscene images. You haven’t just taken pictures of dead people. You have arranged them in poses of a sexual nature. Some of these are of young children. Get hold of the paedophile and high tech crime unit, Vicky. Some of these images I’d say are level five.’

‘
I think I might need a solicitor,’ he said.

Dylan gaze was fixed
. ‘You will need a solicitor.’

‘
Can I get dressed?’

‘
No. I don’t think the custody sergeant is going to mind,’ said Vicky.

Dylan steered him to the doorway.
‘The uniform car won’t be long. I don’t know about you, Vicky but I could do with some air.’

‘
Get hold of Sergeant Clegg. We need Operational Support and some detectives over here. I want this place taking apart. I want the obscene publications unit and our computer geeks here, too.’

‘
I wonder if we’ll find images of Kirsty Gallagher?’ Vicky asked.

‘
No doubt. We also need to find out who his friends are...’

Derek Harper was marshalled into the car. Vicky eyed the uniform officers putting a hand over his head as he stepped into the vehicle so he didn
’t hurt himself. ‘A bump on his head might do him a bit of good,’ she said to Dylan,

‘
Who’s the CSI supervision today? Give them a shout. We need Crime Scene Investigators here to photograph this set up.’

Vicky spoke Dylan
’s instruction over the radio. Walking to the far side of the back yard Dylan kicked about in the overgrowth. ‘Looking for anything particular?’ she said. ‘You’re likely to get something horrible on the end of your shoe doing that.’

‘
This outhouse.’

‘Don
’t go there. That smell is vile,’ she said wrinkling her nose. ‘Look here though, a new padlock. Have you got something in the car we can force it with?’

‘A jemmy?
’ he asked.

‘
That’ll do.’

Dylan handed her his keys. Vicky turned on her heels and was back directly, jemmy in hand. Seconds later Dylan was forcing the clasp but the door had seen better days and the screws sprung before the clasp on the padlock broke.
‘Stand back,’ he said as he grabbed the door with both hands and pulled it off its hinges.

The smell rushed at them with a physical force and they stepped back.
‘What the fuck? It’s like rotting cabbage.’ Vicky gasped. Dylan stepped further back into her path. Her foot slipped on the slimy flagstones and Dylan reached out to catch her from falling.

‘Careful,
’ he said.

He turned his attention back to the building. The smell had taken his breath away. Taking his handkerchief out of his pocket and putting it over his nose and mouth he went back to the doorway to peer inside. Stepping forwards into the dark abyss he could see a pile of flattened, dry boxes. They weren
’t damp or rusty as the rest of the contents appeared to be. He picked one up carefully by the corner and underneath he saw the dirty, greasy foot of a human corpse and just above the ankle he could see a butterfly tattoo. ‘He’s got some fucking talking to do,’ he said. The head when uncovered was a grinning mass of teeth, nasal bones and skull with shreds of flesh where tongue and pharynx had been and as Vicky looked on a solitary ant crawled out of the yawning mouth.

‘
Is it Kirsty Gallagher do you think, boss?’

‘
I don’t know...’ he said, coughing as though he would be sick. ‘But we need to get booted and suited before we touch anything else.’ Dylan used his radio to speak to HQ Control. ‘We have discovered a rotting body at Number 5, Hawthorne Terrace. I’m treating it as a murder scene and I require uniform presence as soon as possible to keep the scene sterile and to cordon off the area to stop prying eyes. ’

Dylan was aware of a sense of horror. All his being seemed to stiffen with a new determination.
‘What have we stumbled on?’

‘
Fuck knows. Let’s move down the path a bit away from this stench. Harper’s no previous. I ran him through the computer after his comments about Kirsty Gallagher at the mortuary.’

‘
More to the point, his computers will hopefully tell us more.’

‘
With some luck we will get a lead that is only possible by the explosion of the social networking sites that people like him subscribe to, via the history on his computer he probably thinks he’s deleted.’

‘It
’s going to be an interesting interview that’s for sure but before that we need to see exactly what we have and secure evidence. At least then we may have a clue as to what we are dealing with.’

***

Back-up came round the side of the house in the form of uniform and specialised units. Each, with their own focus to move the investigation forwards with the experience they had in their own field. The area was sealed. PS Clegg had two teams searching to move things along quickly and as one searched the house the other commenced on the outhouse.

‘
I don’t care if you have to pull up all the floorboards, whatever it takes to get me a result,’ Dylan said to him. ‘Take the bloody lot apart if you have to.’

Crimes Scene Investigation Supervisor, Karen Ebdon was at the scene along with Stuart Viney and Louisa Edwards. Suited and booted they were busy taking the necessary photographs. The cardboard was being bagged up for later examination. The Custody staff at Harrowfield
Police Station were informed what was happening. Derek Harper would be arrested on suspicion of murder as soon as Dylan and Vicky returned.

‘
I want him under constant observation,’ Dylan instructed.

***

The smell in the yard was growing ever more overpowering. Dylan saw experienced officers stand back and take a minute to get their breath. Now they had sight of the full decomposing body which was mostly wrapped in polythene sheeting.

‘
What do you want to do, boss?’ asked Simon Clegg pointing to the corpse.‘I think the body would be better being removed in that state to secure evidence, don’t you? It can be unwrapped at the mortuary.’

‘
Have you done taking the necessary photographs, Karen?’ She nodded. ‘I agree Simon, arrange for the body to be taken to the mortuary as it is,’ Dylan said.

‘It
’s Kirsty, isn’t it boss?’ asked Vicky.

‘
Time will tell but yeah, it’s looking that way. He’s at the mortuary when she goes missing and we find the body of a female in his outhouse.’

‘He
’s a dirty, evil, bastard.’

‘Don
’t mince your words will you? Although, I have to say you’re probably right on this occasion. Believe me I’ve seen worse and the offenders have laughed in my face in interview. Don’t let your feelings get in the way or colour your judgement. He’s just a misunderstood individual that needs our help, some would say.’

‘
Yeah right, we’ll help him alright to get him locked away forever.’

‘
Stay focussed on securing the necessary evidence. It’s the key to everything and as much as we can do for the deceased right now. Talking of which we need to find the key to the outhouse to show he was in control of it.’

‘He
’s still a fucking twat,’ she said pulling off her protective suit that was no longer required.

Karen overheard her rant and pulling off her face mask Dylan could see her smiling. A light relief perhaps from what she had been photographing. Dylan de-suited. All his garments were bagged and tagged along with Vicky
’s as an exhibit.

Afterwards he spoke with the search team leader whose team was busily searching the house
‘They’ve discovered a mass of sex toys and lubricants. Not a total surprise,’ he said to Vicky as they walked back down the path towards his car. ‘Everyday tools of a sex offender.’

***

The roads were busy. Dylan and Vicky sat in the traffic.

‘
So acting Detective Sergeant Hardacre what crime do you think Derek Harper has committed?’ Dylan said.

‘
Well if it is the body of Kirsty Gallagher, then at the very least he’s stolen a body?’

‘
Can you steal a body?’

‘
Well somebody did.’

‘
But under the Theft Act is a human body classed as property?’

He threw her a glance and she shrugged her shoulders.
‘Ask me one on sport?’

‘
You need to know these things, Vicky. It doesn’t fit the criteria of property under the theft act therefore the offence of theft fails. So it will be obstructing the Coroner and theft of maybe the shroud or sheet it was wrapped in.’

‘
I think maybe I need a refresher course to brush up on the finer detail of the law.’

‘
That’s not a bad thing especially as, as a supervisor, the troops will expect you to know.’

‘
I could always tell them to ask you?’ she said, a little smile appearing on her face.

‘
But what else has he been up to do you think? And if it is confirmed to be Kirsty Gallagher’s body do you think he may have had something to do with her death too?’

‘
He doesn’t look like the man in the picture that we recovered from her car,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘
And who’s to say that’s the murderer?’ Dylan said as they pulled into the police station car park. ‘I need to call Jen, it’s not going to be an early finish like I’d hoped.’

‘
Just had a thought,’ said Vicky.

‘Now, don
’t go straining yourself.’

‘
Very funny. No canteen but the chippy is open across the road. Fancy fish and chips for tea?’

He handed her a ten pound note.

‘Vicky?’ He shouted as she walked away.

‘Yeah.
’

‘Don
’t forget lashings of salt and vinegar – and bits,’ he said

He took the opportunity alone to ring Jen, who at that moment in time was staring down the barrel of a gun.