Название | At Your Door |
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Автор произведения | J. P. Carter |
Жанр | Ужасы и Мистика |
Серия | A DCI Anna Tate Crime Thriller |
Издательство | Ужасы и Мистика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008313319 |
‘So was she dumped here or killed here?’
‘Almost certainly dumped. And whoever did it covered her with leaves and branches but didn’t try very hard to conceal her.’
‘Any thoughts on how long she’s been here?’
‘Well, that’s not my area of expertise but I would say a few days and nights at the most. There are residual signs of rigor but not much blistering and skin decay. And be warned, the creatures of the forest have been dining out on her.’
They had to clamber through a patch of wild shrubs to get to the body. It was lying face up and the sight of it drew sharp intakes of breath from Anna and her two colleagues. The woman’s skin was pale and bloated and the gaping hole in her throat was filled with foam, blood, maggots and flies.
Her eyes were closed but her lips were parted to reveal teeth that were smeared with dirt and dust. There were small bite and scratch marks on her breasts, stomach and thighs, and about a dozen ants had made themselves at home in her pubic thatch.
‘I’ve seen enough,’ Sweeny said suddenly as she put her hand over her mouth and hurriedly retreated to the trail.
Anna shook her head. ‘Can’t really blame her for that. This is pretty bad.’
‘Worst I’ve seen in a long time,’ Walker said. ‘The poor kid was in the prime of her life. It’s a fucking shame.’
Anna was still staring down at the body while trying to imagine what the woman had looked like before her life was cut short in such a brutal fashion.
She was slim with small breasts and quite tall at about five ten or eleven. Her hair was fair and shoulder-length. It framed a narrow face with high cheekbones and a sharply pointed nose.
‘First thing we did was remove the stuff that had been placed on top of her,’ the forensics officer said. ‘We want to take some more pictures and examine the ground around her before we turn her over and put up the tent. And I’m sure the pathologist will want to be present when we do that.’
Anna asked Walker to take some pictures on his phone while she took out her pad and made various notes, including a list of questions she wanted answers to.
Who was the victim? Had she been reported missing? Why was she dumped here on Barnes Common? Was she stripped to remove traces of DNA? How did the killer get her to this spot? Was it in a car or van? If so where had the vehicle been parked?
Anna looked around, soaking up the scene, and wondered how many people frequented this part of the common. The track snaked deeper into the wood. She would have to find out where it led and if there were any homes close by.
‘I’ve got enough photos,’ Walker said. ‘Shall we leave these guys to it and go and talk to the woman who found the body?’
Walker removed his white suit but Anna left hers on as they hurried back along the trail.
Sweeny was waiting for them next to the gate. She had also taken off the forensic suit and the navy blue blouse that clung to her plump frame was stained with sweat.
‘Are you all right?’ Anna asked her.
‘I am now,’ she said, looking embarrassed. ‘Sorry about that, ma’am. The sight of that poor girl just turned my stomach suddenly.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Anna said. ‘It happens to us all at some point. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to sights like that working with us.’
The woman who had discovered the body had been moved across the road and was sitting on a wooden bench situated next to the cemetery entrance. Her dog, a black and white Jack Russell, lay on the ground in front of her.
Joyce Connor was in her fifties with greying hair and soft features. Her face was gaunt and colourless, and her lips trembled as she spoke.
‘We don’t often come this way,’ she said. ‘We usually stick to the fields nearer my home on the other side of the wood. But I fancied a change and the sun was strong so I opted for the shade of the trees.
‘Sammy here was off his lead and he did what he always does and went nosing around in the bushes. When he started barking I went to see what he’d come across and that was when I saw the hand poking out from under the leaves.’
She explained that this part of the common attracted few dog walkers and other visitors.
‘It’s always so quiet here,’ she said. Then, in answer to a question from Walker, she confirmed that she had not approached the body or picked up anything from the ground around it.
‘I just grabbed Sammy and put his lead back on,’ she said. ‘Then I hurried away from there and called the police.’
Anna told her a patrol car would take her home where she would be asked to make a brief statement.
Anna then took Walker and Sweeny to one side and gave them instructions. She wanted Walker to arrange for a search team to descend on the wood first thing in the morning.
‘There’s no point doing it now since there are only a few hours of daylight left,’ she said.
She then told Sweeny to start working up a file containing information on the common and the land surrounding it.
‘You can download maps and images from Google,’ she said. ‘Let’s locate all the homes in the area along with access routes to this stretch of the common. And find out who’s responsible for managing it.’
Anna looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was already six-fifteen. Tom would soon be setting off from his flat to pick her up. She decided it was time to call him to break the news that she wouldn’t be going out to celebrate her birthday after all.
Tom was naturally disappointed but he knew it couldn’t be helped.
‘I’ll ring and cancel the reservation,’ he said. ‘Hopefully we can go another time.’
‘I probably won’t be home until very late,’ Anna said. ‘Or I might even end up working through the night.’
‘I’ll come over to your place anyway,’ he said, and she heard the disappointment in his voice. ‘At least that way when you eventually turn up I can give you your birthday present.’
After hanging up, Anna felt a frisson of guilt for not being more appreciative of Tom’s attempt to make her birthday special. And there was no question that she would rather be spending the next few hours in a cosy restaurant than at the scene of a grisly murder.
Anna was back up at the wood when the on-call pathologist arrived. She was pleased to see that it was Gayle Western. The pair had been friends for some years and had a lot in common. They were both divorced and wedded to their jobs. They were also the same height at just over five and a half feet, and they each had long dark hair that was usually pinned up.
Anna was actually a year younger than Gayle but she looked at least five years older thanks to the stress that had left its mark as lines around her eyes and mouth.
‘I see I’m the last to arrive as usual,’ Gayle said, a little breathless from dashing to the scene. ‘You can blame the traffic. I had to come from Mitcham and the roads are virtually gridlocked.’
Gayle had already donned her white suit and was carrying a small black case in each hand.
‘You and I have got to stop only meeting like this,’ Anna said. ‘Do you realise that it’s been four months since we last had a drink together?’
Gayle grinned. ‘And do you realise that we have this same conversation every time we turn up at the scene of a crime?’
It was Anna’s