Two Wrongs (Detective Inspector Ross Reed Book 1) (3 page)

“Nothing earth shattering. It’s pretty much what you can see for yourself: female, late teens-early twenties and looks as though a blow to the back of the head is the most likely cause of death. I haven’t done too much as I didn’t want to interfere with your crime scene. The only contact I made was a liver temperature check, just a pin prick. There is something a little strange though.”

“How do you mean, strange?” Reed asked.

“I’ll know more after the autopsy but the blow to the head itself looks fairly straightforward. It’s the time of death that’s a bit of a puzzle. The liver temp would say it was sixty hours ago given the weather we’ve had, but if you were working from sight alone, I would say about twenty four hours. Any more than that and you would have expected our little creepy crawly friends to have really started on her, which they haven’t. Ask another pathologist and they might say it’s over sixty hours due to some thinning of the skin in certain areas. It’s rather interesting.” Steed explained with a smile.

“Now you’ve confused the hell out of me! What’s your best, educated guess?”

“Oh. Sixty hours. The liver temperature rarely lies.”

“How long before you start the autopsy? Reed asked, wondering why Steed had given him all the other timeframes. He was talking for the sake of bloody talking.

“Crime Scene tells me the body can be taken away within the next couple of hours. I’ll only hang around for another forty odd minutes, just so I can take another liver temperature reading. All things considered I’d say I’ll start the autopsy about three this afternoon. You want to tag along?” Steed chirped.

“I think ‘want’ is a bit strong, but yes I ’need’ to tag along, so don’t start without me.” Reed instructed.

“Right you are. Don’t you be late.” He countered, before offering, “If you’re hanging around too, I’ve got lunch in the car? It’s my wife’s finest ham and pickle.”

“You’re a bloody mystery to me.” Reed shook his head. Food was the last thing on his mind.

“What?” Steed shrugged, holding his hands out, but Reed was already walking away.

After locating DS Alice Tyler who was pretty much the Robin to his Batman, he informed her that she would have the pleasure of driving him back to the station. Plumridge would stay on to watch over the forensic team. Not that they needed it but he would be on hand to relay any important messages.

As Tyler and Reed were friends as well as colleagues of opposite sex, there were always rumours surrounding them. She was one of the most thorough detectives he had ever worked with and her memory was exceptional, which happened to be one of Reed’s downfalls. He would take advantage of her photographic-like memory by not listening in meetings, knowing she would keep him up to date with the important bits.

They had fun together and worked well together. He was respectful of her, which couldn’t be said for all the males in the department, especially as she had been recommended for promotion, by Reed, ahead of the rest of them.

They had first worked together when Reed’s brother, Liam, had been burgled by way of mistaken location. Liam’s flat was situated next door to a small-time thug called Carl Driscall, who happened to think he was a big-time player in the crime world. Driscall would add considerable weight to his already large physique by draping his body in gold, a ring for every finger and five necklaces when one would have sufficed. It was supposed to be a statement of success when in fact all it achieved was unwanted attention.

It was this jewellery and the drugs that paid for them that were the target for the three burglars. Unfortunately for them, they went to the wrong flat and with Reed’s brother Liam having only just moved in and yet to make it a proper home, all they left with was a TV, a pair of trainers and a jar of small change totalling £16.43.

Luck would have it that one of Reed’s informants was leaving the King’s Arms pub and spotted the three men as they made a run for it carrying their loot. Weapons of defence had been clearly visible. It was these weapons that had got Reed’s back up most. Seeing the bigger picture, if his brother had come home any earlier than he had, Reed had serious doubts as to whether they would have checked to see if the person walking in matched Carl Driscall’s description before using their baseball bats and metal bars if his brother had come home.

A few days and a couple of calls later, Liam’s stuff was returned in full. The three men were offered a promise of no arrest which Reed kept. But one visit to the intended target to inform him of their plan to rob him, and how they had carried baseball bats meant for him, justice had been served fairly swiftly.

In a strange way, Tyler had admired Reed for his actions. No rules had been broken, just manipulated to suit the situation. The fact that Tyler had been privy to all of Reed’s actions and hadn’t lodged a complaint meant that a mutual friendship had begun.

Being Chief Family Liaison Officer for Norfolk was not what Allison Mcleary had set out to do. But somewhere along the line it was what she had become. Her main role was dealing with families affected by a crime that was still ongoing. If somebody was missing or murdered, it was Mcleary’s duty to reveal or conceal information, her judgement on the family members emotional wellbeing serving as her guide. Sometimes though, she had no choice on discretion. When a missing person was found, dead or alive, she had to pass the information on.

She had experienced physical assault when delivering news but the worst injuries she had suffered had been from a middle aged woman who, upon hearing the news that her son was safe and well, had hugged her so hard that it actually cracked a rib. It was hard accepting the credit for good news but harder taking the blame for bad.

Mcleary was now sat opposite Carmella’s dad, Brian Chapman, in the dining room of this newly built, but not yet finished house. Brenda Chapman was in the lounge talking on the phone. Their only other child, Brett, who was now very likely their only child, was upstairs in his room, blocking out reality with endless hours of computer games and loud music much like any other teenager.

Mcleary had just taken a phone call from DI Reed to say that a young girl’s body had been found. Although it had not been confirmed as Carmella, it did match her description and it was time to prepare the family for the potentially devastating news before a friend or family member called them to say there was a heavy police presence at Thetford Common and ask if they had heard anything.

It was a blessing and a curse to be able to read people so well and Mcleary had a visualisation of what was to come. The house she was sat in was beautiful. Brian, a builder by trade, had built it to their exact requirements and over the last couple of days had explained what was left to do. The few bricks that were left on a pallet in the back garden had been set aside for a barbeque which was going to be at the centre of the patio. The main family rooms had been finished and decorated in neutral colours. He was waiting for a wood burner to arrive so he could put it in the hollow brick fireplace she was staring at now. It had an empty space where something should be, a symbol of their lives to come. Brenda would be upset, obviously, but Brian was barely holding it together at the moment and she feared he could have a complete breakdown. Brett would be sad, lost and confused and wanting the whole episode to just go away.

Brenda came into the dining room and made eye contact with Mcleary, immediately knowing something was wrong. Brian, who had not looked up from his newspaper when Mcleary had taken the call, now folded it slightly between his fingers and peeked over the top of it.

“What is it?” Brenda asked.

“Sit down and I’ll tell you. I’ve just taken a phone call,” Brenda had pulled a chair from the table and was physically shaking. Brian folded his paper completely, putting it down on the table and tried to steady his wife. Brenda somehow knew in her heart of hearts what was coming. Mcleary’s eyes switched from one parent to the other as she continued, “A body has been found.”

Brian’s face instantly contorted and he threw his hands up to hide it. Brenda was beyond shaking now. She looked like she was having a seizure. Her breathing was almost asthmatic and she gasped for air. The first of many tears to come were gushing down her cheeks.

“It does match the description of Carmella,” She continued but wasn’t sure she had been heard. Mcleary lowered her head in respect, “I’m sorry.”

She let the Chapmans cry and try to find comfort in one another’s arms; only when the screaming started did she stand and move over to them. She didn’t know if she was wanted there but she couldn’t help herself. It was only when she wrapped an arm around each of them that she realised the screaming was coming from Brian.

Brett came thundering down the stairs and Mcleary looked up at him as he froze in the doorway. He knew too.

Just knew.

She stepped away from his parents to allow him to join their mutual hug of grieving. Allison Mcleary left the room and shed some tears too.

“Two sugars for me.” Reed demanded.

DS Tyler was stood by the coffee vending machine in the main reception at Wymondham police station. Although you had to pay for the coffee down here, at least it actually tasted like coffee which was more than could be said of the free stuff they were provided with upstairs. DI Reed had come through the double doors with purpose. He always had two sugars so Tyler accepted he was just asking for a cup and not informing her how he liked it. “Yes, sir.” 

“Then come and see me in my office.” He added as he made his way down the corridor, not breaking his stride or looking back.

“Yes, sir.” Tyler also accepted she was paying today. She felt around in her bag for the purse she had just put away.

The journey back to Wymondham had been sullen. The discovery of a young girl’s body wasn’t exactly something either of them wanted to delve into. Not straight away but, unfortunately, they would have to. When they finally parked up, Reed had taken out his phone and told Tyler to go ahead and he would catch her up in a minute. She was almost certain he was going to call his wife and it made her feel a little sad that she didn’t have someone to call. In all honesty, if Reed hadn’t have been there, she probably would have called him. Seeing people murdered and discarded like rubbish triggered off an instinct to check on the ones you loved. Not that she loved Reed but her dad was dead and her mum was in a care home. She visited her mum once or twice a week but she wasn’t conveniently ready at the end of the phone if they she ever fancied a chat. Since her dad had died four years ago, her mother had shown signs of dementia within a matter of weeks. Since then it had been hit and miss as to whether she could actually hold a conversation. Tyler didn’t have a partner and she had thrown herself into her work to such an extent that she had drifted apart from her university friends. The sad truth was that the person she felt closest to was her boss.

She made her way down the corridor and up the stairs towards Reed’s office. It was a slow journey as there had been no lids to put on the coffee cups. Over analysing it, she established that the cups and lids had been purchased in equal measures. Nobody should ever need two lids to one cup; some people might not even want a lid. Being short of cups she could understand, the common practice of inserting one inside the other to protect your hands from the heat was perfectly acceptable. What wasn’t acceptable was the fact she had paid sixty pence for two drinks and twenty pence’s worth was scolding her skin and staining her clothes.

After much care, she entered Reed’s office. He was sat behind his desk on the edge of his big comfy chair, rifling through one of his desk drawers and he didn’t feel the need to look up. Every time Tyler was in here she couldn’t shake the feeling that he suffered from some form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. All the papers on his desk were at right angles to the edges of the desk, in neat, almost untouched piles. He had two pens, one red, and one black; they were positioned so that they formed a triangle against the corner of his desk.

This provided a dilemma for Tyler, she was somewhat unsure as to where she should place his coffee and as there was more liquid on the outside of the cup than there was in it, she didn’t want to mess up his perfectly organised display. Luckily he relieved her from the dilemma; he slammed the drawer shut, stood up from his chair and held out his hand inviting her to hand the drink over. He took a big gulp from the cardboard container in the same manner as a homeless alcoholic would drink from their bottle that was hidden in a brown paper bag. He made to put his cup down but hesitated for a split second, obviously struggling to find a suitable spot on his desk too. He chose instead to finish it off and toss the cup in the bin. Tyler made a mental note to hold onto hers until it was finished as she sat herself down.

“I want you to join me at the autopsy. Dental records confirm it’s Carmella.” Reed said.

“Thanks.” Tyler replied sarcastically. They both knew she wanted to be there. Reed wanted to be there too. They both knew that the autopsy, as horrible as it would be, was the potential first step to catching the killer. Plus, Reed needed Tyler there; with her memory she was his personal notepad.

“You’re more than welcome. I could take someone else if. . .”

“No, I’ll come.”

“I know you will.” Reed smiled before unexpectedly throwing his car keys on her lap, making her jump so that she spilled a little more coffee. He was already on his way out of the room so she gave up drinking it and placed it on the centre of his desk out of spite.

The morgue was part of the Norwich City Hospital estate. It was set amongst various research centres. There was a whole building dedicated to plant research, another where its occupants designed various diets to help with various diseases. Slap bang in the middle was the mortuary. As they parked out the front, Reed couldn’t help but think that the mortuary location was a sort of afterthought, like the planners had forgotten they needed one. Its location hardly inspired faith in the work being done in the research centres either side. The main hospital had its own morgue for the patients they couldn’t save so that this one was dedicated to ‘outside’ corpses.

Reed and Tyler had unfortunately been here a number of times. This didn’t stop the receptionist, Ms Edward, not Edwards, always requiring identification. How she could see their small ID cards was a mystery. She looked like she was the wrong side of 80 years old and she had a personality of someone who hadn’t slept at all in those years. She would squint at the ID before painstakingly comparing it, point by point, to the human form in front of her. Once she was satisfied, she gave them their passes and protective clothing and waved them through, letting them find their own way because she knew full well they had been here before. The protective clothing came in a sealed bag and contained a full body suit which zipped up at the front, a hat to catch loose hairs and a pair of paper boots to minimalise the chances of contaminants being transported into the autopsy room. Hands needed to be washed thoroughly before entering and again after exiting.

They shuffled down the magnolia painted corridor and turned into the changing room. The automatic lights pinged on to reveal five lockers, a shower, a sink and a toilet cubicle. The changing area was similar to those that you found at a swimming pool, clothes pegs included.

All the permanent staff used a separate changing room. Reed had been in there a few times and the only major difference was a TV and old leather sofa to help pass away their break times.

“I hate attending these.” Reed said, as the pair stepped into their suits.

“I don’t think anyone
really
enjoys it.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily agree with that. Steed seems to love it.”

“Yeah, but dead bodies are only a part of his job. He gets to piece together the scientific truth
and
he doesn’t have to meet the creeps face to face who try and fob you off.”

“When you put it like that, a career change might be in order. Ready?”

“Yep.” Tyler replied a little too cheerily.

Reed pressed the buzzer next to the door and Steed’s assistant, Lucy Mack, buzzed them through. Lucy had frizzy brown hair, spectacles and a stick-thin frame. She looked like a stereotypical scientist even at the grand old age of 30.

Mike Steed was already hovering over Carmella’s body. He was wearing his white lab coat, white trousers and blue paper booties covering his own shoes. He also wore a hat which looked like a novelty shower cap as it was so colourful.

“Whoever put her in those bushes covered her body in bleach before leaving.” Steed said without even looking up.

“Bleach?” Tyler asked.

“Yes, it’s a new one to me. As I was telling DI Reed at the scene, something distorted the overall picture a little.”

“Bleach.” Tyler said again to nobody in particular.

“Her whole body was covered with it.”

“Interesting.” Tyler said, again, to no one in particular.

Turning to Reed, Steed continued, “It’s what gave the skin its appearance of older decomposition, but it also managed to keep the bugs away. I’ve sent a sample for testing, but I’m fairly sure.”

Reed thought the most likely reason someone would pour bleach over a murdered body was to hide evidence.

Tyler was studying Carmella’s body. This beautiful young girl was lying naked on a cold metal slab. It struck Tyler that you spent your whole life covering yourself up with clothes, only sharing your naked body with people that you cared for and trusted the most. Now, this poor girl with no say in the matter was laid out for strangers to look at and examine intimately.

“Time of death was around midnight on Saturday night.” Steed said in a matter of fact manner, then without any hesitation he picked up a scalpel and started to make the Y-incision on Carmella’s torso, cutting through human skin with the same emotion as if it were a sandwich. The Y-incision was the common procedure to expose the internal organs. These would be removed, studied, dissected and have various tests run on them. The tests would reveal what Carmella’s last meal was, when it was eaten, if she was drunk and how drunk, and whether she had drugs in her system.

While Steed executed this procedure with creepy expertise, he explained his initial findings on the outside of her body. The head injury that had likely killed her was the same one that had caused the blood to congeal in her hair. There wasn’t enough blood at the scene to suggest that the blow had occurred where her body had been found. There were no obvious defence marks, although fingernail scrapings had been taken. There was no evidence of any recent sexual activity.

He was almost certain her skull had been fractured by the blow. He had done a light finger examination and could feel fragments of skull moving freely underneath the surface. Blood would have seeped into the brain cavity causing massive pressure to build up, eventually starving the brain of oxygen. What parts of her brain it had starved would be revealed later when he removed it from her skull. No matter what areas were affected, it would go down in his report as massive trauma to the head.

Reed was grateful Steed was explaining what he had found so far. It gave him something else to focus on other than the greyish pink organs being cut from Carmella’s body. They seemed to glisten in the high watt light coming from above.

Each organ was cut at, pulled at a little, then cut at a little more until it was free. All this was done with great care and respect by Steed. This didn’t stop the images, textures and sounds of cutting a steak with scissors appearing in and out of Reed’s mind. He thought back to when he had struggled through bits of tough gristle, almost sawing at it with his knife. Reed’s graphic imagination was making him feel sick. He shook all this from his head as he tried to refocus on the words being spoken and hoped Tyler had heard the ones he had missed whilst he had been imagining things more graphic than what was in front of him.

There were cuts and grazes on the backs and fronts of Carmella’s hands as well as her elbows and knees. There was another considerable bruise to the front of her head indicating she could have been attacked from behind and then fallen forwards. According to Steed, most of these had happened after her death explaining that because her heart had stopped, the wounds showed signs of seepage blood loss only and had not been forced out by blood pressure created by the heart.

He continued to remove various organs as he explained this. One by one he handed them to Lucy who was weighing them and noting it all down on a chart. She then put them individually into polystyrene boxes before labelling them and putting them into chilled storage. The only break in this routine came with the stomach. It was weighed twice, once with its contents and once without. The contents were then put in a separate container to be examined later.

Steed very gently moved Carmella’s head so she was facing to her left so that the wound she had received when she was hit was pointing up towards the ceiling. He picked up a scalpel and prepared to cut into her scalp. Reed wanted to make his excuses and leave; he wanted to avoid the part of the autopsy where the brain was removed. He could read all about that in the pathologists report. He hated the way the face drooped after the skin at the top of the head had been cut, completely changing the appearance of a human face before your eyes. It made the person look like a good argument for the theory of evolution, from ape to man but in reverse order. He also hated it when they cut the skull itself. If you weren’t wearing a protective mask, the smell of bone dust stayed in your nostrils for days.

“I’m going to do this a little differently today. I can’t just remove the brain in the normal way. The blow to the head which I suspect to be the fatal one is right on the line of which we would normally cut the skull. So, I’m just going to lift a flap of skin to examine the skull beneath it.” Steed wasn’t only saying this for Reed’s and Tyler’s benefit, he was saying it for the in-house recording system. It was used as an audible back up if anyone wanted to question the procedures used in the autopsy.

“Will you leave the brain in then?” Tyler asked like the keen student she was.

“No, I will remove it. I’ll have to. But if I cut the skull now, the vibrations could extend any fractures. This would distort the power of the blow or even the shape of the weapon.”