Authors: Minette Walters
Tony jerked his head toward the stern. "I spotted your dinghy. Also I've tried everywhere else. Graham's after your blood, in case you're interested. He's pissed off that you missed the audition. It was in the bag, according to him."
"He's lying."
"Your big chance, he said."
"Fuck that!" said Harding dismissively. "It was a bit part in a kids' TV series. Three days' filming with spoiled brats to make something I wouldn't be seen dead in. Only idiots work with children."
Malice stirred briefly in Tony's eyes before he cloaked his anger behind a harmless smile. "Is that a dig at me?" he asked mildly.
Harding shrugged. "No one forced you to be a teacher, mate. It was your choice." He rocked his flattened palm. "Your funeral when the little bastards finally do your head in."
Tony held his gaze for a moment then picked up one of the photographs. "So how come you don't have a problem with this kind of crap?" he said, jabbing his finger at the image. "Doesn't this count as working with kids?"
No answer.
"You're being exploited by experts-
mate
-but you can't see it. You might as well sell your arse in Piccadilly Circus as let perverts drool over tacky porno pics of you in private."
"Shut it," growled Harding angrily, touching his fingertips to his eyelids to suppress the pain behind them. "I've had enough of your bloody lectures."
Tony ignored the note of warning. "What do you expect if you keep behaving like an idiot?"
An unfriendly smile thinned the other man's lips. "At least I'm up-front about what I do"-his smile broadened-"in every respect." He stared Bridges down. "Unlike you, eh? How's Bibi these days? Still falling asleep on the job?"
"Don't tempt me, Steve."
"To do what?"
"Shop you." He stared at the photograph in a confusion of disgust and jealousy. "You're a fucking deviant. This kid's barely fifteen."
"Nearly sixteen ... as you damn well know." Harding watched him tear the photograph to shreds. "Why are you getting so het-up about it?" he murmured dispassionately. "It's only acting. You do it in a movie and they call it art. You do it for a mag and they call it pornography."
"It's cheap filth."
"Wrong. It's
exciting
cheap filth. Be honest. You'd swap places with me any day. Hell, the pay's three times what you get as a teacher." He raised the bottle of mineral water to his mouth and tilted his head back, smiling cynically. "I'll talk to Graham," he said, wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand. "You never know. A little guy like you might go down a wow on the Internet. Pedophiles like 'em small."
"You're sick."
"No," said Harding, dropping his head into his hands, energy spent. "Just broke. It's the inadequate bastards who jerk off over my pictures who're sick."
*6*
Forensic Pathology Report
UF/DP/5136/Interim
: Ref: GFS/Dr. J. C. Warner
·
General description: Natural blond-30 yrs. (approx.)-height 5'-weight: 102 Ibs.-blue eyes-blood group 0-excellent health-excellent teeth (2 fillings; RL wisdom removed)-no surgical scars-mother of at least one child-14 weeks pregnant (fetus male)-non-smoker-small traces of alcohol in blood-consumed last meal approx 3 hrs. before drowning-contents of stomach (other than sea water): cheese, apple-pronounced indentation 3rd finger L-hand indicates recent presence of ring (wedding or otherwise).
·
Cause of death: Drowning. The evidence prevailing conditions-wind, tide, rocky shoreline; good condition of body-had she entered the sea on or near the shoreline she was obviously determined enough to save herself, and while there is some postmortem bruising, there is not enough to suggest that the corpse remained long in the water after death-points to her coming off a boat in the open sea, alive, and swimming for some considerable time before exhaustion led to drowning within shelter of land.
·
Contributory factors in victim's death: 0.5 liters of sea water in stomach-fingertip bruising either side of voice-box, indicative of attempted manual strangulation-residual benzodiazepine in bloodstream and tissues (Rohypnol?)-bruising and abrasions to back (pronounced on shoulder blades and buttocks) and inside of thighs, indicative of forced intercourse on a hard surface, such as a deck or an uncarpeted floor-some blood loss from abrasions in vagina (vaginal swabs negative, either due to prolonged immersion in sea water or assailant using a condom)-severe fingertip bruising on upper arms, indicative of manual restraint and/or manual lift (possibly inflicted during ejection from boat)-incipient hypothermia.
·
Condition of body: Death had occurred within 14 hrs. of being examined-most likely time of death: at or around high water at 1:52 a.m. BST on Sunday, 10 August (see below)-general condition good, although hypothermal evidence, condition of skin, and vasoconstriction of the arterial vessels (indicative of prolonged stress) suggests victim spent considerable time in the sea before drowning-extensive abrasions to both wrists, suggesting she was bound with rope and made efforts to release herself (impossible to say whether she succeeded, or whether her killer released her prior to drowning her)-two fingers on L-hand broken; all fingers on R-hand broken (difficult at this stage to say what caused this-it may have been done deliberately or may have happened accidentally if the woman tried to save herself by catching her fingers on a railing?)-fingernails broken on both hands-postmortem bruising and grazing of back, breasts, buttocks, and knees indicate the body was dragged to and fro across rocks/pebbles prior to being stranded.
·
Ambient conditions where found: Egmont Bight is a shallow bay, inaccessible to boats other than keelless vessels such as ribs/dinghies (lowest recorded depth = 0.5 m; variation between low and high water = 1.00-2.00 m). Kimmeridge Ledges to the west of Egmont Bight make sailing close to the cliffs hazardous, and sailors steer well clear of the shoreline (particularly at night, when that part of the coast is unlit). Due to a back eddy, a continuous SSE stream runs from Chapman's Pool toward St. Alban's Head, which suggests victim was inside the shelter of Egmont Point before she died and was stranded on the shoreline as the tide receded. Had she drowned farther out, her body would have been swept around the Head. SW winds and currents mean she must have entered the water WSW of Egmont Bight and was towed along the coast in an easterly direction as she swam toward the shore. In view of the above factors,* we estimate the victim entered the sea a minimum of 0.5 miles WSW of where the body was found.
*These estimates are calculated on what an average swimmer could achieve in the conditions.
These conclusions are predicated on the rape taking place on board a boat, most probably on deck.
Difficult at this stage to say to what extent the benzodiazepine would have affected her ability to operate. Further tests required.
·
Conclusions: The woman was raped and subjected to a manual strangulation attempt before being left to drown in the open sea. She may also have had her fingers broken prior to immersion with the
possible
aim of hampering her efforts to swim toward the shore. She was certainly alive when she entered the water, so the failure to report her fall overboard suggests her killer expected her to die. The removal of distinguishing features (wedding ring, clothing) suggests a premeditated intent to hinder an investigation should the body surface or be washed ashore.
***NB: In view of the fact that she came so close to saving herself, it is possible that she made the decision to jump while the boat was still in sight of land. However, both the failure to report her "missing overboard" and the evidence of premeditation leaves little room for doubt that her death was intended.
***Rohypnol (manufactured by Roche) Much concern is being expressed about this drug. A soluble, intermediate-acting hypnotic compound-known on the street as the "date-rape drug," or more colloquially as a "roofie." It has already been cited in several rape cases, two being "gang-rape" cases. Very effective in the treatment of severe and disabling insomnia, it can induce sleep at unusual times. Used inappropriately-easily dissolved in alcohol-it can render a woman unconscious without her knowledge, thus making her vulnerable to sexual attack. Women report intermittent bouts of lucidity, coupled with an absolute inability to defend themselves. Its effects on rape victims have been well documented in the U.S., where the drug is now banned: temporary or permanent memory loss; inability to understand that a rape has taken place; feelings of "spaced-out" disconnection from the event; subsequent and deep psychological trauma because of the ease with which the victim was violated against her will (often by more than one rapist). There are enormous difficulties in bringing prosecutions because it is impossible to detect Rohypnol in the bloodstream after seventy-two hours, and few victims regain their memories quickly enough to present themselves at police stations in time to produce positive semen swabs or benzodiazepine traces in the blood.
***NB: The U.K. police lag well behind their U.S. counterparts in both understanding and prosecution of these types of cases.
*7*
Salterns Marina lay at the end of a small cul-de-sac off the Bournemouth-to-Poole coastal road, some two hundred yards from where the Greens had rescued the blond toddler. Its approach from the sea in a pleasure craft was through the Swash Channel and then via the North Channel, which allowed a passage between the shore and the numerous moored boats that flew like streamers from the buoys in the center of the bay. It was a popular stopping-off place for foreign visitors or sailors setting out to cruise the south coast of England, and was often crowded in the summer months.
An inquiry at the marina office about traffic in and out over the previous two days, 9-10 August, produced the information that
Crazy Daze
had moored there for approximately eighteen hours on the Sunday. The boat had come in during the night and taken a vacant berth on "A" pontoon, and the nightwatchman had recorded the arrival at 2:15 a.m. Subsequently, when the office opened at 8:00 a.m., a man calling himself Steven Harding had paid for a twenty-four-hour stay, saying he was going for a hike but planned to be back by late afternoon. The harbormaster remembered him. "Good-looking chap. Dark hair."
"That's the one. How did he seem? Calm? Excited?"
"He was fine. I warned him we'd need the berth again by the evening and he said, no problem, because he'd be heading back to Lymington by late afternoon. As far as I recall he said he had an appointment in London on Monday-this morning in other words-and was planning to catch the last train up."
"Did he have a child with him?"
"No."
"How did he pay?"
"Credit card."
"Did he have a wallet?"
"No. He had the card tucked into a pocket inside his shorts. Said it was all you needed these days to go traveling."
"Was he carrying anything?"
"Not when he came into the office."
No one had made a note of
Crazy Daze
's departure, but the berth was empty again by 7:00 p.m. on Sunday evening, when a yacht out of Portsmouth had been logged in. On this initial inquiry, there were no reports of an unaccompanied toddler leaving the marina or of a man taking a toddler away with him. However, several people pointed out that marinas were busy places-even at eight o'clock in the morning-and anyone could take anything off a boat if it was wrapped in something unexceptional like a sleeping bag and placed in a marina trolley to transport it away from the pontoons.
Within two hours of the Lymington police being asked to check William Sumner's cottage in Rope Walk, another request came through from Winfrith to locate a boat by the name of
Crazy Daze
, which was moored somewhere in the tiny Hampshire port's complex of marinas, river moorings, and commercial fishing quarter. It took a single telephone call to the Lymington harbormaster to establish its exact whereabouts.
"Sure I know Steve. He moors up to a buoy in the dogleg, about five hundred yards beyond the yacht club. Thirty-foot sloop with a wooden deck and claret-colored sails. Nice boat. Nice lad."
"Is he on board?"
"Can't say. I don't even know if his boat's in. Is it important?"
"Could be."
"Try phoning the yacht club. They can pick him out with binoculars if he's there. Failing that, come back to me, and I'll send one of my lads up to check."
William Sumner was reunited with his daughter in the Poole police station at half past six that evening after a tiring two-hundred-and-fifty-mile drive from Liverpool, but if anyone expected the little girl to run to him with joyful smiles of recognition, they were to be disappointed. She chose to sit at a distance, playing with some toys on the floor, while making a cautious appraisal of the exhausted man who had slumped on a chair and buried his head in his hands. He apologized to WPC Griffiths. "I'm afraid she's always like this," he said. "Kate's the only one she responds to." He rubbed his red eyes. "Have you found her yet?"
Griffiths moved protectively in front of the little girl, worried about how much she understood. She exchanged a glance with John Galbraith, who had been waiting in the room with her. "My colleague from Dorset Constabulary Headquarters, DI Galbraith, knows more about that than I do, Mr. Sumner, so I think the best thing is that you talk it through with him while I take Hannah to the canteen." She reached out an inviting hand to the toddler. "Would you like an ice cream, sweetheart?" She was surprised by the child's reaction. With a trusting smile, Hannah scrambled to her feet and held up her arms. "Well, that's a change from yesterday," she said with a laugh, swinging her on to her hip. "Yesterday, you wouldn't even look at me." She cuddled the warm little body against her side and deliberately ignored the danger signals that shot like Cupid's arrows through her bloodstream, courtesy of her frustrated thirty-five-year-old hormones.