Reprobates Read online

  ‘Looks like rigor mortis developed immediately after he died,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Why the fuck would anyone shave off their body hair and put paperclips on their nipples?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘The saving grace is that the press aren’t here,’ Dylan said doing a 360 degree scan. He could see crime scene tape had been placed across the footpath ensuring no one stumbled across the incident. In the quietness it could be heard flapping in the breeze. He was happy the scene was sufficiently sterile.

  ‘An ambulance has been requested and en route,’ said PS Megnicks.

  ‘What a waste of time. He’s dead,’ said Vicky. Dylan shook his head. ‘Well, anyone can see he’s bloody dead,’ she said.

  ‘And we all know the format, Vicky, the paramedics will have to certify him dead.’

  ‘Isn’t it sad that anyone would want to end it here, of all places?’ asked Vicky.

  Dylan tutted, ‘How many times do I have to tell you, never assume. Like I said before, would you fold your clothes so neatly if you were going to commit suicide?’

  Vicky shrugged her shoulders and pouted. ‘I don’t fold mine now.’

  ‘Typical!’ he said. ‘The guy can’t have been in the water long. Bloating is minimal and the clothes he appears to have abandoned on the banking aren’t wet.’

  The paramedics walked casually down the banking to confirm to the officers what they already knew, life extinct.

  The divers in the water were gathered at the water’s edge in deep conversation with PS Megnicks who was leaning towards them on her haunches, on the towpath.

  ‘Sarge, continue searching around the immediate area where you found him will you? I want to know if there is anything else of interest down there,’ called Dylan.

  ‘Will do,’ she shouted.

  Vicky bent down to the body. ‘Where did he buy those horrible luminous green paperclips from? Pound shop do you think? Take it from me it’s not a good look, mate,’ she said, speaking to the corpse.

  Dylan knew Vicky well enough to know the humour she displayed at times like this was her defence mechanism. It stopped her being drawn into the sadness. In his experience every police officer coped differently with the horrific sights they saw.

  Dylan gave her a weak smile as he turned and walked a few yards towards the divers, making the call to HQ control for necessary arrangements to be made for the body to be taken to the mortuary. As he watched he saw divers bringing to the surface large stones, lumps of concrete, handfuls of clamps and placing them one by one and side by side on the banking. All of the weights had one thing in common, they all had pieces of rope fastened to them.

  ‘Paperclips, clamps, clothes pegs, elastic bands,’ a diver was saying to Dylan as Vicky walked up behind him.

  ‘This gets weirder by the minute. There must have been more than one of them at it,’ she said. Vicky counted, ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!’

  ‘A meeting spot?’ asked Dylan.

  ‘You think?’ asked the diver.

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who knows.’

  Yet another slab of concrete was brought to the surface carried by two of the team. A few minutes passed. There was lots of activity then a diver held up his arm once more signifying a find but this time he had something shiny in his gloved hand.

  ‘What is it, a knife?’ asked Vicky squinting her eyes up to see.

  Dylan dropped to his haunches. He put his hand to his temple to shade his eyes from the ray of sunshine that appeared at that moment from beneath a cloud.

  Slowly the diver swam towards them. He had found a pair of new, shiny, scissors.

  ‘Well, we can rule out Harry Houdini then,’ said Vicky.

  ‘Why, don’t you think a would-be escapologist would be naked?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘Could be I suppose, if he didn’t want to get his clothes wet?’

  ‘Where’s his towel? Come on, I thought you were worldly wise?’ he asked. ‘The scissors are your clue to unlocking this puzzle.’

  ‘Eh?’ She frowned. ‘Go on then, instead of looking smug, spill the beans.’

  ‘Sex.’

  ‘Sex? Not now boss,’ Vicky said her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.

  ‘Look here, he’s tied a stone to his ankles and then gone in the water, with his scissors in his hand. He’s masturbated. Which gives us the reason why the deceased was in profound lactic acidosis at the time of his death as a result of a sudden, frenzied struggle and went into rigor mortis immediately. Most likely he’s done this lots of times before. Except this time, he’s got over excited and dropped the scissors before he could cut the rope to free himself. It’s simple, he’s drowned. It’s what they call auto erotic asphyxiation. They say you get the same sensation when they put a noose around your neck and “hang yourself,”’ he said raising his hands to draw invisible quote marks in the air. ‘Only recently, I went to a suspicious death where a man had a noose around his neck. There was a stool on its side nearby but not quite near enough for him to reach. It turned out he’d jumped off the stool to get the erotic sensation and in doing so he’d accidentally kicked it over, so he couldn’t save himself. This guy’s trousers and underpants were round his ankles, which in that case was our clue. He had an awful case of Tardieu spots on his lower legs when we got to the scene. Brings a whole new meaning to the term swingers, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Bloody hell, how could that excite anyone?’

  ‘That’s one question I can’t answer.’ Dylan laughed half-heartedly. ‘Just never be shocked, never wear blinkers. You’ll find out people go to bizarre extremes for sexual gratification that would turn most people’s stomachs. And unfortunately sometimes, like in this instance, they end up dead.’

  ‘Why no identification? Do you think there was more than one of them at it on this occasion? Maybe the others found him, panicked and took his ID with them so that he couldn’t be linked to them through association?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘Possibly. What puzzles me is how did he intend to get dry without a towel? Or did someone take that as well? I want nearby roads checked for abandoned vehicles, CCTV etcetera. Some knocking on doors wouldn’t go amiss. If there are any around here to knock on,’ he said, looking around the secluded location.

  ‘Mmm... might be a haven for the birds and the bees but nothing else to bear witness to the act I suspect,’ said Vicky. ‘Well this is the last thing I expected from a call out to a body in a canal.’

  ‘What do I constantly remind you about? Never assume.’

  ‘If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes, it’s not something I could’ve imagined, let alone assumed.’

  ‘Sometimes when there isn’t an obvious answer to a death it may be down to some sexual perversion that we could never begin to understand. Always keep your mind open. You’ll see a lot worse, Vicky, this is at the lower end of the scale for this sort of sordid activity, believe me.’

  ‘I hate to think what’s at the top end.’

  ‘You’ll realise very quickly that even you’re normal,’ he chuckled. Vicky punched him on his arm.

  ‘Come on, let’s get some enquiries done to see if we can find out who he is,’ he said nodding in the direction of the dead body.

  ‘Let’s hope somebody reports him missing soon.’

  ‘I fear because he is an adult, it’s unlikely to be soon.’

  ‘But if he’s married, with kids?’

  ‘You didn’t notice the wedding ring?’

  ‘Give me a break.’

  ‘Detail is an important distinguishing characteristic for a good detective. I thought you’d have learned that at training school. But you’ll always remember to check for rings on fingers from now on.’

  ‘All the training in the world can’t begin to teach you... Oh my God, what are you gonna tell his wife,’ she said.

  ‘Not me, WE are going to tell her it, as it is. A detective, for your information, never stops learning – that’s part of why I love the job.
Don’t you think it’s interesting searching for the unknown, pushing the boundaries?’ he asked.

  ‘Not the morning after the night before,’ she said grimacing.

  ‘Yeah, well that’s something else you’ll learn – the night before isn’t worth it. Look sharp. We have a body to find and another to ID as soon as,’ Dylan said striding out ahead. He raised his hand to the officers searching further down the canal banking. ‘Thank you. Give me a shout with any update, will you?’

  PS Megnicks raised her hand in acknowledgement. ‘Will do, sir.’

  ***

  At the station, enquiries had already started into Kirsty Gallagher’s background, whilst at the same time police officers were searching anywhere she might be.

  ‘What about the media?’ asked Dylan. They would be chasing a headline for the evening news and tomorrow’s newspapers.

  ‘What shall I say? What can I say?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘We won’t make reference to the body found in the canal today. We’ll make an appeal in respect of the missing body from the mortuary. I think that takes priority. This way, in my experience the two jobs wouldn’t be competing with each other for headline news. I’ll draft a press release.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Vicky.

  Dylan penned immediately.

  ‘In the early hours of Sunday morning, person or persons unknown, forced an entry via a window into the Mill Street Mortuary, Harrowfield. Having done so they removed a corpse, details of which cannot be released at this time or until relatives have been notified. This is a particularly rare and disturbing incident for everyone concerned. Harrowfield Police appeal to anyone with the slightest information about this matter to contact them direct or via Crimestoppers.’

  Time as usual had passed without realisation.

  ‘Jen,’ he said to his wife when she picked up the phone. He could hear her laughing. ‘I did mean to call earlier, but they’ve kept me on my toes. We’ve got a missing body from the mortuary, of all places, and a naked man dead in the canal.’

  ‘Oh, my God. No fiction writer could begin to spin the strange tales of a real-life detective,’ she said.

  His smile was one that reached his eyes. He loved to hear Jen laugh. ‘What’s so funny anyway?’

  ‘Maisy. I was putting her tights back on and she just said, “socks” to which I replied, “Well done Maisy they’re big socks.” She attempted to copy me as she does, and it sounded like big cocks.’

  Jen’s laugh was infectious and he could hear Maisy demanding her attention in the background.

  ‘She’s obviously feeling a lot better?’

  ‘Yes, the tooth is through.’

  ‘Good. How you feeling about tomorrow, nervous?’

  ‘A bit, but I’m looking forward to doing the personnel role. By the way Max is off his food.’

  ‘That’s not like him.’

  ‘He’s pale.’

  ‘How can a dog be pale?’ he chortled.

  ‘You’ll see. He just is. Anyway, we’ll soon see how serious it is. I’m serving up roast lamb for dinner. Will you be home on time?’

  ‘Should be. Once I’ve got the wheels in motion here, there’s nothing much else I can do. Unless we suddenly find the missing woman or find out who our body in the canal is. Let’s aim for about half-five shall we?’

  He put down the phone, a smile still on his face. Vicky walked into his office.

  ‘This is what we know,’ she said, handing him some paperwork.

  Dylan took it from her, unfolded the sheets of foolscap and began reading. Kirsty Gallagher was single. She was thirty years of age and lived alone. Concerns were raised on the evening of Thursday 27th March by neighbours when her curtains had remained closed throughout the day. Police forced entry to 14, Bankfield Terrace and found her slumped in an armchair, in the lounge. Paramedics attended and pronounced life extinct. The report completed by the officer on the case suggested that nothing in the house appeared disturbed and there were no visible injuries or marks to her body other than her tattoos. The house had been secured and keys found within, which had been retained by police. Utilities had been turned off. Kirsty Gallagher had not been suffering from any recent illness according to her GP. At present the incident was being treated as an unexplained sudden death until the outcome of a post-mortem, which was scheduled for Monday 31st March. Detective Constable Duncan Granger had attended, but due to the unexplained circumstances of her death he had made the decision to ensure the scene was secure and that it remained so, until a cause had been established.

  ‘Sadly, it appears she has no known relatives,’ said Vicky.

  He let the papers fall onto the desk and looked up at Vicky questioningly. He spoke softly. ‘Ned’s got enough wool on his back to know I’d want to know about this,’ he said. His eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t send me a one-liner. I’ll speak to him tomorrow. We’ve got to ask ourselves why would someone steal a body, Kirsty’s body? Is the person responsible frightened what the pathologist might find at the post-mortem do you think?’ he asked. ‘What could they be trying to hide?’ he wondered. ‘We need to get back into her house and get it examined by Crime Scene Investigators, gather phone data, and utility bills; seize any correspondence we can find. Can you sort that for tomorrow when the team’s back in? I want to know what’s been happening in her life recently and with whom.’

  ‘Just looking at who’s on duty tomorrow boss. We’ve no Sergeants,’ Vicky said running her long, newly manicured fingernail down the duty roster.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he said distractedly. ‘That little problem should be sorted soon.’

  ‘How come?’ she asked, not taking her eyes off the computer screen.

  ‘I’ve asked personnel if I can act someone up for CID experience and they’ve agreed.’

  ‘You have?’ she asked. ‘They have?’ Vicky turned her head to look at him. Her long blonde fringe flopped in front of her eyes. She brushed it to the side. ‘Who?’

  Dylan looked at her intently. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out,’ he said. His widening smile softened his face.

  Vicky opened her mouth and closed it again without a peep.

  ‘Well, that’s a first.’ He grinned. ‘My Sunday dinner is going to be on the table,’ he said looking at his watch as he rose from his chair. ‘So I’ll be away from here because I’m on-call tonight as well.’ Dylan put his arm into the sleeve of his coat. ‘Get done what you can and we’ll continue our enquiries first thing tomorrow, unless something happens before then, and if so I want to know. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Will we know tomorrow who’s acting up?

  ‘No, it’ll be Tuesday at the earliest, Vicky.’

  ***

  Jen was pleased to see Dylan. It made such a difference to be able to get dinner out of the way and Maisy in the bath at a reasonable hour, especially since tomorrow was a big day for them all.

  ‘Clothes in the wash bin please before you pick Maisy up,’ she said. Dylan bent down to kiss his daughter in her playpen. ‘Your mummy always knows when I’ve been to the mortuary.’

  ‘More’s the pity,’ she said with a puckered brow. ‘That smell, it’s vile.’

  Max didn’t jump up and greet him with a wagging tail but his golden retriever tail swished slowly on the wall in the hallway at the foot of the stairs. He lifted his head momentarily but as if it was too much effort he lay back down and grunted. ‘Has he moved today?’

  ‘Not much. Don’t you think he looks pale?’ asked Jen.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well he’s definitely not himself,’ said Jen as she followed Jack upstairs with a pot of tea in her hand and pile of ironing over her arm.

  ***

  With Maisy in bed, her nursery bag packed, a duty roster on the door for Dylan’s benefit and sandwiches made in the fridge, Jen flopped down on the sofa.

  Dylan was falling asleep in the armchair. Max leaned heavily against his leg and turned to lay his hea
d on Dylan’s lap. ‘What’s up, mate? Not feeling good?’ Dylan asked, gently stroking the dog’s head.

  Jen looked at her husband. A worried look upon her face. ‘He looks bloated,’ she said, leaning forward to feel his enlarged stomach. ‘If he’s no better tomorrow I’m calling the vet.’ Max’s eyes were weak and watery. He rose onto all fours, wobbled and flopped down a few feet away. Moaning loudly he shut his eyes.

  ‘Is Penny coming to walk him?’

  ‘Yes, and she knows him well enough. She’ll keep me posted.’

  Jen looked as if a light had just sparked behind her eyes. ‘Oh, forgot to tell you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Penny has only landed that part-time cleaning job going at the nick.’

  ‘She has?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good for her,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Now Carly and Troy have grown up a bit she was looking for more work and the job was advertised so she applied and got it. It’s only part-time but hey, it gets her foot in the door until something more suitable comes up,’ she put her hand to her mouth and yawned.

  Tomorrow would be the start of another era with Maisy going to nursery and Jen back in the saddle in the admin department at Harrowfield Police Station. ‘Early night?’

  ‘Have you ever known me say no?’ Dylan said with a cheeky smile.

  Chapter Four

  Dylan and Jen were woken by the sound of Max retching. Jen telephoned the vet for some reassurance.

  ‘The amount that a dog is sick can make the problem look incredibly more acute than it actually is, Mrs Dylan,’ said the vet. ‘He has probably been eating something he shouldn’t or gobbled down his food. I am on site from half past seven.’ The vet sighed heavily. Jen imagined him looking at his clock in his nice comfy bed as she’d often seen Dylan do when they were woken in the middle of the night. ‘See how he is in an hour or two, shall we?’

  Jen felt confused from waking suddenly. Her heart beat rapidly. ‘But there’s blood...’ she said, aghast at the sight.

  ‘Can you bring him in?’ he asked with a sudden note of urgency. ‘One of my colleagues will be there to meet you.’