Scream, You Die (17 page)

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Authors: Michael Fowler

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Thirty-eight

 

Scarlett didn’t even wait to get permission from DI Taylor-Butler for her to leave as she spun around and sprinted back to number forty-four.

Halfway down the street she spotted Tarn by the front doorway looking out for her.

Slowing her pace a few yards from the door she drew in a deep breath and gathered her composure. “You say you’ve found a body?”

Tarn beckoned behind him with his head, and stepping aside to let Scarlett pass he replied, “It’s in the cellar. George and Ella are down there. It’s a bit of a mess.”

From her coat pocket she dragged out a pair of forensic latex gloves and pulled them on. Then, stepping into the doorway to the cellar she stood for a moment, facing a flight of stone steps, flanked either side by flaking lime-washed brick walls. A dull glow reflecting off the cellar’s damp floor guided her eyes downwards. Already the temperature was cooler in this space and she caught the familiar tainted coppery smell of stale blood. She wondered what lay below.

As if reading her mind, Tarn, standing behind her, said, “I’ll stay up here if you don’t mind, I’ve already seen it, and I can tell you it’s not a pretty sight.”

Without glancing back she responded, “No problem. While you’re up here, I want this place sealing off right now. And get hold of a pathologist and CSI.” Placing a foot on the first step, she added, “Just a thought, as well. Have you checked over the rest of the house?”

“Not had the time yet. We’d just made a start when George found the body.”

“Okay, get on with that then. We don’t want to miss any more surprises.” As Scarlett caught the sound of Tarn’s turning footfalls she called back over her shoulder, “And while you’re at it see if you can find my mobile and warrant card.” Then, finishing off the sentence, by mumbling beneath her breath to herself, she ended, “They’re what caused this shit of a mess in the first place.”

Scarlett descended slowly and found herself in a long narrow room lit by a single bare bulb, dangling from a beam. The walls were a mix of brick and stone and like the stairway had been lime-washed. Here and there was evidence of damp in the form of mildew and black mould between the mortar. To her right, halfway along, was a bench constructed of brick with a stone slab. Upon it she could see a quantity of tools She stepped nearer and looked. A hammer, chisel, fretsaw and three long-bladed kitchen knives. Parts of the stone surface were stained. Scarlett thought it looked like blood. Her mind began racing.

As if from nowhere, Ella’s head appeared through a gap at the far end of the room, making Scarlett jump. She clutched her chest. “Bloody hell, Ella!”

“Sorry, Serge. We’re through here.” Her head disappeared from Scarlett’s field of vision.

Scarlett skirted past the bench, taking another look at its contents, before pulling her gaze back to where Ella had poked her head through. Before her was another doorway. She walked through into a much larger room, lit once again by a single bare bulb. This room, though, was not whitewashed, and so the play of light was not as good and most of the corners lay in shadow. Ella and George were in the centre of the room standing directly beneath the light, bathing their heads in a halo. By George’s side was the corpse. Stepping forward, Scarlett targeted her gaze upon the body. It was naked and she could see it was male, though it wasn’t whole. Both legs had been cut off, as had been the right arm. The dismembered limbs lay next to the severed joints. Beside the body was a bloodstained long-bladed kitchen knife and a small hand grinder plugged into an extension cable. She redirected her eyes to George and pointed to the knife and hand grinder.

George met her gaze. “Ella and I have already spotted them. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Scarlett nodded. She was already on the same wavelength as the big man. She had known George a long time. He had been a detective when she joined and one who she had quickly learned she could rely upon to get a thorough job done. More importantly, he was someone whom she could trust. When she had first met him at the scene of a street robbery she had been impressed at how imposing he looked. He was not only tall at six foot seven, but back then, in 2002, he worked out. Over the years she had seen him pile the pounds on and his presence wasn’t nearly as intimidating; nevertheless, she knew she would still rather have him in her corner if things ever turned sticky.

George was waiting for a response. Scarlett said, “Right, get this area sealed off as well. I want everybody and their grandmother here.”

As she took a step back to the doorway she could hear Tarn yelling out for her. Increasing her pace, she made her way back to the steps.

Tarn was at the top of the stairs, looking down. On an anxious note he called, “Something’s just happened with the suspect!”

Thirty-nine

 

Outside number forty-four Scarlett checked her watch. It had been forty minutes since she had called things in and everything was coming together. Scanning the street she saw that a sterile barrier, ten yards either side of the house, had been established, and four uniformed officers were on sentry duty keeping back a small number of curious residents who were eager to find out what was going on, plus a couple of journalists who had shown up, baying for answers. Behind her, four crime scene investigators were in the process of erecting a tent around the front door, to further protect the integrity of the scene. Tarn, George and Ella were inside with the crime scene manager.

Beyond the barrier, she caught a glimpse of DCI Diane Harris’s car turning into the street. She lost sight of it as it pulled toward the kerb and disappeared out of view behind the bustle of onlookers. Her stomach emptied and she took a deep breath. She knew she would have some explaining to do to the DCI beyond the appraising her of their body find. A few minutes later, against the backdrop of diminishing daylight, Diane Harris appeared ghost-like in a white protective suit, marching towards her. Scarlett stepped off the footpath to meet her. She noted the seriousness etched on her face.

“Okay, tell me exactly what we’ve got. I’ve picked up some of it already from Hayden on the phone. And I also understand that we’ve got a suspect on the run, who’s possibly the killer.”

Scarlett could feel her neck getting warm. She guessed she was colouring up. “Has he told you how we came to find the body?”

“I’ve got his version of events.”

Scarlett could see her mouth was set tight as she spoke. Not a good sign. She gulped. “Look, Boss, I take responsibility for my actions here, especially pulling off the house-to-house enquiries, but I got a phone call from a trusted source who told me that my stolen mobile was at this location and rightly or wrongly I decided to act.”

“Well the gist of what you’ve said is the same, but his choice of words are somewhat different. Go on”

“Well, we got here at just after two. Tarn and I took the front and I sent George and Ella round the back. When I did the knock we heard a commotion inside the house and someone running away. We forced entry and saw this guy – the suspect – making a run for it across the garden. We chased after him but he got over the wall, and as you know he managed to get to the top of the street, where he ran out into the path of a car and was knocked down.” Scarlett watched her DCI nod. She continued. “While dealing with the accident, the DI turned up with the duty inspector so I sent Tarn, George and Ella back here to see if they could recover my phone and warrant card. That’s when they found the body.”

Diane Harris nodded again. “In the cellar, I’m told?”

Scarlett answered with a nod.

“And I understand the body is that of a male and some of the limbs have been removed?”

“Yes. Both legs and his right arm. We think we disturbed our suspect just as he was cutting the body up.”

“And we don’t yet know who the victim is, or the suspect?”

Scarlett shook her head. “We never got the chance to speak to him. After the accident he was uncommunicative and there was blood all over the front of his T-shirt. We thought he was badly injured. I’m guessing, especially since finding the body, that the blood was actually from the victim and wasn’t as a result of the accident, and obviously given that he’s escaped, he wasn’t as badly injured as we thought.”

“It would appear so. Apparently within a couple of minutes of the ambulance leaving the scene he attacked the escorting PC and used his own gas on him. The paramedic in the back also got a face-full as well. The suspect was last seen disappearing into a nearby estate. We have enough resources out there searching for him including the helicopter, and CCTV are looking as well, but he appears to have well and truly gone to ground. I’ve given Hayden the job of co-ordinating everything.” She paused and gave Scarlett an enquiring look. “Have your team started going through the house yet to see if we can get any IDs?”

“They’re inside with the crime scene manager now. That’s one of their priorities. And I’ve got the pathologist on his way to examine the body.”

“Okay, well done. You seem to have everything in hand on this front.” Then her voice took on a more severe note. “But this doesn’t let you off the hook. I’m going to do what I need to inside and then you and I are going to have a little chat.”

 

****

 

Pulling her facemask down, Scarlett lifted her head and drew in a deep breath as she climbed the last step and emerged from the cellar. She had been cooped up in the confined space for the best part of an hour suffering the corrupt smell from the dismembered corpse and decided she needed not just some fresh air but a change of scenery. She had left DCI Diane Harris down there with the pathologist and the crime scene manager. Stepping into the hallway she was surprised to see DI Taylor-Butler in the front doorway. He was looking up the staircase, his face wearing a troubled look, and she noticed that he wasn’t wearing a protective suit.

“Do you want something, Boss?”

He jumped, pulling back his gaze. His face flushed as if he had been caught out doing something he shouldn’t. Then, just as quickly, his appearance shifted, taking on a more composed look.

“I’m looking for DCI Harris.”

Scarlett thumbed over her shoulder. “She’s down there with the pathologist and the CSI manager. Is there anything I can help you with?” Then, dipping her head towards him, she said, “You shouldn’t be in here without your protective suit on.”

His face tightened. “I do know about forensics, DS Macey. I’ve no intention of coming into the house. And no, I don’t need your help, thank you. I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, don’t you? It’s the DCI I need to speak with regarding
your
escaped suspect.”

She could feel her hackles rise. She took a deep breath, pulled up her face mask and turned her back on him. She muttered, “I’ll tell DCI Harris you want to speak to her,” and walked back towards the musty cellar.

 

****

 

Scarlett sat in the front seat of Diane Harris’s car, fiddling with her recovered mobile. Her phone had been found during the first cursory sweep of the house. They had visited both floors, double-checking every room to make certain there was no one else in the house before everything was sealed off for forensics, and Ella Bloom had found it, together with her warrant card, lying on a bedside cabinet in one of the second-floor bedrooms.

She finger-tapped the screen, checking the phone log. The battery was very low but it hadn’t been used. With a feeling of relief she turned it off before it died and dropped it into her bag.

Next to her, the DCI was on her BlackBerry. She could make out that she was speaking with DI Taylor-Butler, requesting another update, and although she could only hear one side of the conversation it was enough for her to gather that their suspect was still at large. She listened in as the DCI brought him up to date with the state of things at number forty-four; forensics had already found further evidence of butchery down in the cellar, and there was significant splattering of blood across the tiles in the bathroom on the first floor. “There’s a fair bit of work to do here, Hayden. Forensics are setting up lights so that they can work through the night and I’ve persuaded the pathologist to do the PM this evening as well, so I’m going to be tied up for the next few hours at least. Can you make sure everything’s sorted back at the incident room and carry on co-ordinating the search for the prisoner?” The DCI finished by telling him to rally the team together for an eight-thirty p.m. briefing.

DCI Diane Harris ended her call and studied her BlackBerry screen for a moment. Then with a long exasperated sigh she pocketed it and shuffled sideways to face Scarlett.

“Bit of a fuck-up don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry, Boss, I just didn’t think…”

Diane Harris raised her hand, brokering Scarlett’s silence. “That’s just it Scarlett, sometimes you don’t think.” She held Scarlett’s gaze. “Look, you’re bright, enthusiastic, hard working, and as a supervisor I couldn’t wish to have anyone better, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy. You know Hayden has a downer on you and yet you do everything you can to wind him up. You don’t need me to tell you that he’s pretty pissed off with you at the moment. He wants you off the team. He’s blaming all of this on you. Without going into any great depth as to my conversation with him, words such as reckless, belligerent and maverick were used. In fact I’ll be honest: he wants to pursue a neglect-of-duty discipline against you.”

Scarlett bit down on her lip. “Jesus, Guv.”

“Jesus is putting it mildly, Scarlett. I have to say, as regards your initial actions I’m pretty pissed off with you as well. Your saving grace in all this is the discovery of that man’s body.” She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting over Scarlett’s shoulder, somewhere outside the car. A couple of seconds later she snapped it back and locked onto Scarlett’s eyes. “Because I have faith in you, and because I’m also not too impressed with Hayden and his childish sniping myself at the moment, I’ve stuck up for you. But this is the last time. I’ve told him that you rang me this morning and told me the info you’d got about your phone and warrant card and that I’d given you permission to go to that house. I know he doesn’t believe me, but he can’t do anything about it.” Pausing for a moment, she added, “And yes, there will be an IPCC investigation because of the accident, but the fact that your prisoner attacked an officer and escaped means he’s not seriously injured. And also, given that he’s wanted for murder it won’t go anywhere, so you can rest easy on that front.”

Scarlett could feel her eyes starting to water. “Thanks, Guv.”

“Don’t thank me. I did it because of all the hard work you’ve put in recently. I know what your qualities are and right now I need you as part of my squad. The way you can start repaying me is to just do your job. No more going off at a tangent. Yes?”

She wiped away a tear from one eye with a knuckle. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Breaking into a half-smile, DCI Harris said, “Apology accepted. Now get yourself together, Scarlett. We’ve got a murderer to catch.”

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