SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense (9 page)

‘Are you still in contact with Hettie?’

‘Oh, yes. We’re best friends. She’s getting married next spring and I’m going to be one of her bridesmaids. She met a bit of resistance from her fiancé’s family about it, but being the person she is, she stuck to her guns. I’m looking forward to it, even though I’ll be full of nerves.’

‘And have you had any relationships yourself since you transitioned? Have you got close to anyone else?’

‘Not really. The problem is that I still don’t like men very much, nor the thought of getting intimate with one. Maybe that would change if I met the right bloke, but he’d probably have to be one in a thousand. I still like women much more, but a lot of lesbians distrust male to female transsexuals. You know, they think we’re pretend women. Maybe that’s true in a way. Anyway, the right man hasn’t appeared yet, though I still think it’s more likely to be a woman. Or maybe a TS man. I met quite a few during the group counselling sessions.’

‘Bernie, who I worked with for a while in the Midlands, had similar thoughts about relationships. He’s the female to male TS I mentioned earlier. I think he’s found someone now, though I don’t know the details. We’re not in contact any more. Well I hope things work out for you, Rae, especially with the job. As I said earlier, you’re joining us at a hectic time and you’re going to be too tired for anything much.’ Sophie smiled wryly. ‘I’m already running on adrenalin, and it’s only two days since we discovered the body.’

* * *

On arriving in the incident room, Sophie introduced Rae to Marsh and Melsom, and then showed her to her desk. She called Barry Marsh into her office and explained Rae’s situation.

‘No one else is to know at the moment, Barry. Just you and me, as her superiors. Under no circumstances can you talk about this to anyone else. If anyone asks, do not confirm it. Instead, just sidestep the question and speculate. Her deep voice could be due to childhood tonsillitis. Anything else could be put down to possible hormonal problems. What I’m saying is that it’s better to have a response ready prepared than to be caught on the hop. If there are issues with other staff, I want to know. Don’t keep things from me. For this week, you and I can have a quick chat together each day, no more than a minute or two. From then on, once a week will do. You’re down as her official immediate superior, but this kind of thing is probably new to you. Is that right?’

Marsh nodded. ‘Doesn’t she want to be open about it?’

‘We decided that this is the best way, considering we’re up to our eyes in this case. I don’t want people losing focus and, believe me, this would be a huge distraction. Maybe in the fullness of time we’ll decide differently, but not now.’

‘I thought we could put her onto background checks at first. There’s a lot we don’t know about all these people. That means I can free up Jimmy for more direct inquiries,’ he said.

‘Sounds good to me. I’m off to see Benny Goodall now. He’ll have already started the post-mortem and I want to have a chat while it’s all fresh in his mind. I’ll see you all later. Thanks for that message this morning, by the way. I’ve set the wheels in motion to move them to a safe house.’

‘Does it need to be both of them, ma’am? Surely it’s only Mrs Corrigan who’s in danger? Ed Wilton only met them by chance.’

‘He was a witness, Barry. And meeting by chance might equally well apply to Rosemary.’ She turned to Marsh with a slight smile. ‘Anyway, I have a feeling that the two of them might now be an item. I’m a soft-centred sentimentalist at heart, you know. I don’t want to put a spanner in the works at this early stage.’

* * *

Sophie caught sight of the tall frame of Dorset’s senior pathologist ahead of her in the hospital corridor as she approached his office.

‘Morning, Benny!’ she called. ‘How are you on this bright, sunny morning?’

A particularly hard flurry of raindrops hit the window beside him, and he turned.

‘All the better for seeing you, O golden-haired one. How’s Martin?’

‘A bit down. Work problems, so I’m sure he’d appreciate an evening out with you in the pub, if you fancy it. I’ll leave it to you. How did the PM go?’

He ushered her into his office. ‘Interesting. As you surmised, some of the bruising was caused prior to death, and there’s a fairly serious contusion on the left side of her head that would have concussed her, and some severe bruising around her midriff. But she died from drowning.’

‘Really? So she was alive when she was dumped on the shoreline?’ Sophie sat down on a soft chair.

‘No. The water in her lungs was from a tap. The only sea water was in her mouth and nose.’

‘So she was concussed by a blow to the head, then drowned, then taken out and dumped in the rock pool? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I’m not saying anything, Sophie. I don’t do speculation, as you well know. It was also fairly obvious that she was sexually active prior to death. Very sexually active.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We found traces of semen in all three major orifices. It’s all safely bottled up and off for DNA analysis. But there were no signs of rape. No significant rupture of any tissue, and a lubricant had been used in her anus.’

‘So it seems as if it was consensual?’

‘No evidence to the contrary is as far as I’d go. But as I said, there were no signs of tissue damage to the throat, anus or vagina. Make of that what you will.’

‘Is there any evidence of the order of events? Did the sex happen before the blow to the head?’

‘Okay, I will hazard a guess on this one, and I’d say very probably the sex did occur earlier. It’s hard to imagine how such sex could happen with an unconscious body. And since the semen traces were still present, she obviously didn’t have time to bathe or shower afterwards. But what are your thoughts? You’re the detective.’

‘From what you’ve told me? She had sex with three men, maybe at the same time. Something quickly went wrong and she was hit around the head. She was drowned in the bath or basin while still unconscious. Then they dressed her, smuggled her out into a car, and dumped her body on the shoreline, hoping it would look like a simple case of falling and drowning while drunk. Did she have much alcohol in her blood, by the way?’

‘Some, but not a hugely excessive amount. She was over the drink-driving limit, but wouldn’t have been incapacitated. She didn’t have any underwear on, by the way, so that fits in with your theory.’

‘Yes, I remember. She had nothing on under her jacket. We also spotted that the zip on her jeans was only half pulled up, and one of her boots was also not fully zipped. It all helps to back up the story.’

‘A bit of an adventuress, was she?’

‘Apparently, and very attractive from what I’ve heard. Would you agree, Benny?’

He laughed grimly. ‘Seeing a body on a mortuary trolley is not the best place to make judgements like that. I used to try to imagine what they would have looked like full of life and vigour, but I gave that up years ago. This one? Yes I’d guess so . . . You’re teasing me, aren’t you?’

‘Would I ever? Anything else of interest? The shape of the wound to the head for instance?’

‘Something heavy with a blunt edge, I’d imagine. The cut is about three inches long and caused significant bleeding, but I can’t visualise what could have caused it. No doubt your forensic people will have some theories about that.’ He paused. ‘Oh, there was something else. She had a number of small tattoos that might help with identification. A butterfly in the small of her back, a flower on her left upper arm and a heart on her right wrist. Now, do you fancy a spot of lunch before you drive back? It’ll just be in the canteen, but you look as though you could do with a few minutes to relax. I know I could.’

* * *

‘How are you settling in, Rae?’

Barry Marsh had taken a mug of coffee across to the new member of the team. He placed it carefully among the piles of documents on the young DC’s desk.

‘I haven’t really had time to stop and think about it, sir,’ she answered. ‘It’s been non-stop since I arrived. But that isn’t a complaint. It’s actually been really good.’

‘That’s a murder investigation for you. A few hours each day to eat and sleep, then back to the grindstone.’

‘You’ve worked with the boss before?’

Marsh nodded. ‘This will be the third time. And I’m joining the team permanently from next month. Which really means from now on. If you’d said to me a year ago that I’d be second in command of a speciality murder and violent crime unit, I’d have laughed at you. But here I am, and here you are.’

‘Should I be worried?’

‘She’s fair-minded, if that’s what you mean. What you see is what you get. But don’t underestimate her. If you do, she’ll run rings around you. Don’t be taken in by that “I’m just an ordinary cop” act she puts on. She isn’t. She’s got an Oxford degree in law and a masters in criminal psychology on top of it. She’s probably got more brainpower than you and me combined. But she’s also got this very ordinary background, born to a teenage mother in a Bristol council flat.’ He looked down at his new assistant. ‘Not sure I should have told you that, but it’ll help you not to make wrong judgements about her. Please keep it to yourself.’

‘Sure thing, boss. But I’m glad you did.’

‘Rae, if anyone starts to create problems for you because of your background, bring it to me. I don’t want the DCI bothered by any distractions in the middle of this investigation. I’ll deal with anyone who makes trouble.’

‘I hope there won’t be any problems.’

‘So do I, but we’ve got to be realistic. Sooner or later someone is going to start stirring, and it’s better to be prepared. Where do you live, by the way?’

‘I’m renting a little place in Wool. It’s very convenient for getting to HQ. I’m not sure about the long term, though. If things go okay, I might consider buying a place.’

‘So you’ll drive down here each day while this investigation is ongoing?’

‘Yes. Not today though. The boss brought me down and is taking me back when she goes home.’

Marsh glanced at his watch. ‘We’re having a short briefing mid-afternoon after she gets back from seeing the pathologist. We didn’t have one this morning. Better get ready.’

* * *

‘Brian Shapiro,’ Sophie said, ‘might be an ex-cop from Portsmouth. From what Barry has discovered there was a uniformed cop matching his description who was sacked some five years ago. And the more I think about it, the more it worries me. That’s why I decided to move our two witnesses out of harm’s way. I want to double-check the details of his service record. That’s a job for you, Barry. Winkle out as much as you can about him. Jimmy, any progress on Derek?’

‘Nothing yet, ma’am. I can’t find a mention of anyone with his first name and fitting his description on any system that I’ve searched. That’s a bit odd in itself, though I haven’t finished yet.’

‘It’s bound to be difficult without a surname. Keep looking, Jimmy. I also want you to find out what Sarah Sheldon has been up to for the past year. According to her ex-husband she quit her job at the bank. But where did she go? Rosemary said she was working at a bank. Maybe it was a different one. Maybe she was lying and she was doing something else entirely. We need to know. It’s possible forensics have finished work on her laptop and it might give us some clues. Can you check up on that, Rae?’

Marsh looked at her quizzically. ‘Is there something I don’t know, ma’am?’

‘I know nothing more than you, leastways not yet. I just feel uneasy about it. It’s too complicated, Barry. I’m sure there’s a bigger picture here, and we’ve only stumbled across part of it.’ She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. ‘There is something else that’s bothering me. I checked with the hotel earlier and this man Renton did not reappear at all over the weekend. I asked them to keep the room untouched and locked if he didn’t return, so I really need to go and have a look. I’ll take Jimmy with me.’

* * *

The two detectives took the short, steep walk up to the High Street and the Ballard View Hotel. They took a key from the duty manager and went up to the room. It was along a narrow corridor on the top floor, off the back stairs. It was a single, small but with an en-suite bathroom. Sophie and the junior detective searched through the drawers and cupboards, all of which proved to be empty. Sophie stood in the middle of the room, frowning.

‘The problem is, Jimmy, that forensics are overloaded with my stuff already. If I ask them to sweep this room as well, I’m going to make myself the most unpopular senior officer on the force. And the chances are that they’ll find nothing. But If I don’t, we might miss something important and never know it. So what should I do?’

‘I don’t think it’s linked, ma’am. This room’s on the wrong floor and on the other side of the building from Mrs Sheldon’s. There’s nothing out of place. There’s not even anything in the waste bins, so what would be the point?’

Sophie looked at him and slowly nodded. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Those bins are completely empty, aren’t they? Yet the room hasn’t been cleaned since he left. So whoever was in here took his rubbish with him. Curious, don’t you think? We’ll get the room checked.’

* * *

For the first time in months, Barry Marsh was feeling happy about his work. The spectre of redundancy had been looming over him like a thick fog and the uncertainty had been playing on his mind. He was relatively young, too young to be let go, but he’d worried about being moved somewhere he didn’t want to live. Now he was back to walking with a spring in his step. He greeted people with a cheery word. Goodness, he even whistled while shaving in the mornings. He had broken up with his long-time girlfriend, Sammie, and was alone. But at long last he felt valued again. DCI Allen’s words when she’d offered him the chance of becoming a permanent member of her team had meant more to him than she could possibly have imagined. He was determined not to let her down. That was why he was the first person in the incident room each morning and the last to leave at the end of the day, working longer hours than the DCI herself.