Gone to Ground Page 18
After the divorce, she’d thrown everything at her career as if to prove to herself that the past fifteen years hadn’t been a complete waste of time. Dusting off a degree in communications and getting up to speed on current practices hadn’t daunted her, either.
Wendy loved learning.
The woods provided a welcome respite from the stress the broken water heater had caused her the past three days. She hated the cold, and the thought of showering under freezing water for a fourth day meant she’d accepted the plumber’s extortionate call-out fee without argument.
‘Bailey!’
The dog whined, and Wendy picked up her pace.
Something about the dog’s reluctance to return when called piqued her interest, and she cursed as she stumbled over an exposed tree root in her haste to find out what was going on.
The wind changed direction, and she caught the distinct smell of smoke on the breeze that fanned her face.
Her heart skipped a beat, a shiver of fear clutching at her chest.
Surely someone hadn’t been stupid enough to start a fire?
Her gaze fell to the long dry grass on either side of the overgrown path; if a fire took hold it would spread fast and she’d have nowhere to go.
She tried to recall the route she’d taken. Since the construction works had first started on the outer reaches of the hotel’s land, her normal route had been forcibly altered. Where once she’d been able to take a short cut around the perimeter of the archery field, she now had to pick her way between thin saplings to reach a path that ran for a couple of miles and branched off halfway along its route to join a secondary path that led to the local crafts centre.
Only a quarter of a mile into her walk that morning, Bailey had taken off at the sight of a rabbit and hadn’t been seen since.
Another excited yip carried through the trees before Wendy spotted a break between the foliage that she could squeeze through.
Shoving her hand into the sleeve of her jacket to fend off any thorns that might scratch her skin, she thrust her arms through the thin branches and found herself in a clearing bordered on all sides by tall trees.
The dog stood on the opposite side, its tongue lolling out the corner of its mouth as if grinning at her.
‘Come here!’ she ordered, and satisfied the dog was going to obey this time, she turned her attention to what appeared to be a large circle of metal sheeting.
Bailey joined her as she approached the structure, and Wendy bent down to clip the dog’s lead to its collar in case it took off once more.
As she straightened, she noticed another overgrown path leading from the clearing, and frowned.
Several branches had been broken to make for easier egress back into the woods, and she noticed two deep furrows cut through the long grass, as if something had been dragged towards the metal circle.
Blue smoke wafted from a cylindrical chimney set into the top of the circle and as the breeze changed direction once more, her eyes opened wide in horror.
She staggered backwards and then took off at a sprint, dragging the dog with her until she paused next to a fallen log, exhausted.
She had tried to push the memory away over the years, heeding the advice of the psychologists her parents had consulted, but she would never forget the stench of burning human flesh.
Forty-Seven
Debbie unfastened her seatbelt as Harry Davis eased the patrol car to a standstill on the uneven surface.
She climbed from the car, adjusted her brightly coloured vest and dropped her hat onto her head, then strode across the grass verge to where a fireman was checking valves on the side of a fire engine.
‘Morning, Steve.’
He glanced up as she approached, his grim expression breaking into a smile when he saw her.
‘Hi, Debbie. Pulled the short straw?’
She grinned. ‘Been cooped up in an incident room for the past two weeks. I got rostered out today to cover for Harry’s sidekick. Only joined us a month ago, and he’s already off sick.’
The fireman turned his attention to her colleague. ‘Have you lot worn him out already?’
‘Very funny. What’ve we got?’
Steve jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where a woman with a Dalmatian dog stood talking with one of the other fire crew members.
‘Someone’s lit a bonfire in a glade through there. She reported it because she’s never come across anything like it in the woods before, and it smells funny. Keep your distance until we give you the nod?’
‘Will do,’ said Debbie.
Beyond their position, the faint rumble of traffic on the road beyond the woods reached Debbie’s ears, the normality of people going about their everyday business a stark contrast to the scene before her.
Two engines had been dispatched to the fire, but upon arriving at the scene the senior fire officer had assessed the situation, deemed the second crew unnecessary, and she watched as the driver of the vehicle carefully manoeuvred the enormous truck back along the woodland track to the lane beyond.
Debbie led the way towards the woman who watched the other fire crew, her dog at her side.
‘Excuse me – Mrs Gibson?’
The woman turned. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. I was worried no-one would take me seriously.’
Perplexed, Debbie removed her notebook from her vest and opened it to a clean page while Harry crouched down and made a fuss of the dog.
‘Do you mind if I ask you some questions?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Can you take me through the events of this morning in your own words?’
‘I was out walking Bailey – we’ve got our usual route, but we couldn’t take the path I normally follow because it was fenced off a while back and I haven’t had a chance to explore an alternative until today. I don’t know this area too well – we only moved here three months ago. I was rushing. I was meant to be back at the house twenty minutes ago to meet a plumber. Probably won’t be able to get him back now for another three weeks. Anyway, Bailey ran off – I suppose with a new route she had all different scents to explore, by the time I’d caught up with her I found her through there.’ The woman paused, her face troubled. ‘I don’t know what it was. Something didn’t feel right – and then when I smelled what was burning, I called triple nine.’
Debbie frowned. ‘What do you mean? What did you smell?’
She tilted her head a little, to try to catch the breeze, but the smoke had dissipated – the fire crew had used foam to smother the outer edges of the metal circular structure, and only a thin ribbon of blue smoke trailed from what looked like a chimney on top of it.
The woman pulled a much-used tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘The only other time I smelt something like it was when my brother was playing with a bonfire when he was seven, then it got out of control.’ She shivered, then pointed at the metal structure. ‘It smelled like burning flesh.’
Harry straightened, his eyes meeting Debbie’s, and she snapped her notebook shut.
‘Okay, Mrs Gibson. If you can wait over by the patrol car for a moment please?’
The woman gathered up the slack from the dog lead and hurried away.
‘What do you think?’ said Harry.
Debbie didn’t reply. At that moment, one of the fire crew waved them over and they crossed to where the team were packing up.
She blinked as the sun’s rays broke through the trees and shielded her eyes as her boots trod a path through the lush undergrowth.
The peaceful surroundings helped to calm her nerves, the green boughs of trees towering over her head.
In the distance, a pheasant cried out once before another bird responded from further into the trees.
‘It’s cooled down enough that we can open it,’ Steve said as they drew near. ‘Shall we?’
A loud knock came from within the structure, and they leapt back.
‘Wh-what was that?’ said Debbie. She turned to Harry for reassurance and was ala
rmed to note that he looked as scared as her. ‘What’s going on?’
He shook his head and raised his radio to his lips.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Debs.’
Forty-Eight
Kay edged around the perimeter of the wooded glade, unwilling to duck under the blue and white crime scene tape that flapped in a gentle breeze until she was told it was safe to do so.
A team of firefighters worked at the far end of the clearing, their voices subdued as they coiled hoses and carried out an inspection of the surrounding undergrowth to make sure no smoking embers had escaped their attention.
She nibbled at her thumbnail and glanced over to where Debbie and her uniformed colleague had gathered at the far end of the sealed-off area.
They appeared to be lost in conversation, the sergeant hovering close to his younger colleague as if to protect her from further distress.
Kay averted her eyes to give them some privacy.
Each and every one of them had a different coping mechanism that developed over time and exposure to different situations they were confronted with on the job, but if this was the first time Debbie had seen a burned body, it would likely stay with her for a long time, if not forever.
The woman’s face was still pale as she walked over to Kay.
‘He must’ve died in agony,’ she said, and wiped at her eyes. ‘He was curled up into the foetal position, guv. His hands were like claws clutching at his chest.’
Kay reached out and placed her hand on the woman’s arm. ‘Debs, that happens naturally to a human body when it burns. Hopefully Harriet will confirm it, but chances are he was dead before he was placed inside.’
Debbie blinked. ‘You think so?’
‘I do, yes.’ She peered over the woman’s head to where Harriet was speaking with the leader of the fire brigade team. ‘I don’t think our killer would have been able to get him into that metal circle otherwise. I think this was a disposal method, not how he murdered him.’
‘So, what made the sound we heard?’
‘It was probably caused by the bones constricting in the heat.’
Debbie shuddered. ‘I’ve never had a burned one before. First time.’
Kay squeezed her arm before letting go. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
‘Yeah, I think so. Thanks.’
‘You know where to find me if you need me.’
‘Thanks, guv. I appreciate it.’
They broke off their conversation as one of Harriet’s assistants approached the tape and waved Kay closer.
‘Back in a minute,’ she said to Debbie, and hurried across to the CSI team member.
To her right, Barnes strode to catch up with her, his mobile phone held to his ear.
‘Carys confirms there’s a patrol car on the way to arrest Travis Stevens.’
Kay clenched her fists at her sides. She’d been too late to save the man whose remains lay in the kiln, and it would haunt her, she knew. ‘Okay, thanks. Join me?’
He finished the call, tucked the phone into his shirt pocket and donned the plastic coveralls Kay handed over to him from a box at the perimeter. They both signed the clipboard Harry Davis held out to them, then moved into the sealed-off area.
‘You ready for this?’ Kay murmured under her breath as she eyed Harriet’s team milling about, waiting for them.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ said Barnes. ‘Debbie all right?’
‘She says she’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
He gestured to the firefighters, who were now traipsing back to their vehicle. ‘Did they say how they put it out? I can’t imagine Harriet will be pleased if they soaked the evidence.’
‘Apparently the structure has holes all around the outside, near the bottom. All they had to do was seal those and the fire quickly died once it was starved of oxygen. Harriet was asked to come here at the same time as you got a call, so she was able to help supervise the preservation of the body.’
They fell silent as the long grass swished against their legs, and Kay ran her eyes over the scene before her as the woman approached.
‘What’ve we got, Harriet?’
The lead crime scene investigator pulled her mask down from her face while her team began to clear the contents of the metal structure.
‘Okay, well despite the shrinkage in the bones caused by the fire, I’d say it’s an adult male, judging by the size of the body. He’s been in here a while; maybe six hours.’ She gestured to the corrugated iron circle. ‘And, before you two get too excited, despite being in one piece this one’s not going to give up his secrets easily,’ said Harriet. She beckoned them towards the metal circle.
Kay swallowed and held her breath. The last thing she wanted to do was look, but she knew from experience that she’d have a better understanding of the killer’s methods if she tried to learn as much as possible while at the crime scene.
‘You said “he”?’
Harriet nodded. ‘Plus, I don’t think a woman would’ve been able to lift the victim over the edge of this, let alone drag him through the undergrowth to get here.’
‘Have you found drag marks?’ said Barnes, craning his neck to see beyond the tape at the back of the crime scene.
‘Through there. That area we’ve taped off indicates someone walked here carrying a large weight – the grass is trampled down to the bare earth. The structure has been here a while – it’s designed so that one person can up-end it and roll it into position but we haven’t found any evidence of that being done lately.
‘Footprints?’ said Kay, unable to hide the trace of excitement in her voice.
‘Sorry, no – the ground is too hard from the lack of rain we’ve had this month.’
Harriet paused next to the metal circle and indicated they should look inside.
Kay exhaled, then peered over the jagged metal edge.
The circle itself came up to her chest and was a wide structure that yawed before her.
She let out a groan.
Curled up in a foetal position, exactly how Debbie had described, were the burned remains of an adult male.
As the fire had cooled, his bones had cracked and splintered apart, leaving a jigsaw-like impression of a human. Kay turned away, fighting down bile.
‘Did he die here?’
‘No,’ said Harriet. She climbed a step-ladder that had been placed against the structure, then leaned over and pointed to the victim’s skull. ‘Blunt trauma wound here. Obviously, we’ll have to wait for Lucas to confirm it, but my best guess is this was the killing blow.’
‘So, he’s trying to burn the body to hide the evidence,’ said Kay.
‘Not so fast,’ said Harriet. ‘This fire was never going to reach the sort of temperature required to completely destroy a body.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at the way the body has been placed on top of everything else in here. All right, it’s burned down and reduced, but the fire was started with dry brushwood, then it looks like tree branches were added – your killer has stacked those up in such a way that the fire would burn slowly. I’ll have the wood remains sent away for analysis, but the fact there are still charred remains here suggests to me that it’s a hardwood such as hazel.’
Barnes stepped away from the metal structure. ‘What is this thing, anyway? A compost heap?’
‘No, it’s a kiln – Charlie over there says he used to see them all the time when he was a kid.’
‘A kiln?’ said Barnes. ‘Like, with pottery?’
‘No, for making charcoal,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s been reduced to a cottage industry around these parts now, but it was once a way for locals to make some money during the spring and summer months. They would cut down the wood to manage it and keep new growth sustained, while selling on what they produced – either using the wood for fencing or turning it into charcoal. Someone knows what he’s doing.’
Forty-Nine
Kay glanced up from the notes she’d placed in a fil
e to see Sharp advancing towards her, Barnes and Carys in his wake.
‘Are you ready?’ said Sharp.
‘Yes. Sergeant Hughes booked him in a couple of hours ago – uniform picked him up when we were at the crime scene. He hasn’t said anything; I think he might be in shock.’
‘Who’s his solicitor?’
‘A chap called Hargreaves from a firm over at Ashford.’
‘All right. I’ll be observing, and Carys can take additional notes. I don’t want this one getting away, Kay. We have to stop him, and we have to stop him now.’
‘Understood, guv.’
She waited while Sharp, Carys and Gavin proceeded to enter the observation room, gave them a few moments to switch on the monitors that provided them with a live link via camera to the interview room, then turned to Barnes who nodded and swiped his card across the lock.
He held open the door for her, then made his way across to the recording equipment before taking a seat beside her. Once the formal caution had been read out, Kay opened the file before her and raised her gaze to Travis Stevens.
Sweat formed at his hairline, and a deep crease mottled his forehead as he picked at a scab on the back of his hand. His eyes darted to the door, then back to her.
‘When we spoke to you last week, you stated that you’d been working late on the nights of Wednesday and Thursday. What did you do when you left the craft centre?’
‘Nothing much. I was tired, so by the time I got back home I just watched a bit of television.’
‘What time did you get home?’
His brow puckered further and he rubbed at the back of his hand a final time before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Well, it only takes half an hour or so, so I guess it must’ve been about eight-thirty, quarter to nine, something like that.’
‘The charcoal you use at the forge. Where do you get it from?’