A Dreadful Past (17 page)

Eunice Parker stood almost statue still for ten minutes until a marked police car drove up and halted beside her.

‘Mrs Parker?' The constable who got out of the passenger side of the car asked.

‘Miss … but yes, I am Miss Parker.' Eunice Parker had a strong, self-assured voice. ‘It was I who phoned you.'

‘You phoned three nines … a dead body?' the constable asked as he was joined by the driver of the police car. ‘Is that correct?'

‘Yes,' Eunice Parker replied, ‘a few hundred feet down the pathway behind me. I'll show you.' She turned on her heels and led her spaniel back down the path, followed by the two constables who, like she, walked beside the path on drier ground. A few moments later Eunice Parker halted and pointed to the stand of grass. ‘The body is in the grass over there. He might have had some connection with that lot,' she added, pointing to the path and the numerous footprints thereon. ‘But that, of course, is for you to determine.'

‘Yes …' the first constable replied. ‘Thank you.'

‘Never seen so many footprints on this path, and I walk it with my dog each morning.' Eunice Parker held her spaniel close to her. ‘So I draw your attention to them.'

The two constables left Eunice Parker and walked towards the grassed-over area. They stood and looked down at the grass for a few minutes, then one returned to where Eunice Parker stood while the second remained by the body.

‘Yes,' the police officer said as he approached Eunice Parker, ‘I see what you mean, ma'am. Quite dead, it would seem to me.'

‘Yes, you don't survive your throat being cut like that,' Miss Parker replied shortly.

‘You're not upset by what you found, Miss Parker?' The police officer gripped the radio attached to his collar. ‘Many people would be quite shaken.'

‘I didn't find it. The dog found it,' Miss Parker retorted. ‘Gun dog, you see – can't lift the kill so he sat beside it to mark its location. Instinct. And no, I am not upset. I was a nurse for thirty years, mostly within Casualty … or whatever it is called these days. It was Casualty when I started, then it became Accident and Emergency … now I believe it's called Trauma. They keep changing the name for some reason best known to themselves but the creature remains the same. I dare say it gives an illusion of progress. Bless their little cotton socks.'

‘Yes, ma'am,' the constable replied, and when his radio call was answered he confirmed a Code 41 and requested CID attendance, a police surgeon and scene-of-crime officers. Then he turned again to Eunice Parker. ‘Can I take your details, ma'am?'

‘If you wish,' Eunice Parker replied, ‘but as I said, I didn't see anything and I gave my details when I phoned you. Ah … I see that you have reinforcements.' She nodded down the path to where a sergeant and three constables were walking in their direction, all four sensibly, she thought, keeping to the grass at either side of the path itself.

‘Yes, ma'am, we always send out more than just two constables when a murder is reported; we were just the first to arrive,' the police constable explained. ‘So, it's Miss Parker?' He then noted Miss Parker's details and Miss Parker, having furnished the officer with her name and address, turned and walked away.

George Hennessey followed the Malton Road out of York and then turned right, against the heavy York-bound traffic towards Sand Hutton. He slowed as he approached the collection of vehicles: the two marked police vehicles, the black windowless mortuary van and an unmarked car which he recognized as belonging to Dr Mann, the police surgeon. He noted a uniformed constable standing by the entrance to the fields at a narrow gap in a hawthorn hedgerow, across which blue-and-white police tape had been strung. He parked his car behind Dr Mann's car, got out and walked towards the constable, who saluted Hennessey as he approached and lifted the tape for him, saying, ‘Along the pathway, sir, about two hundred feet.'

‘Thank you, Constable.' Hennessey bowed to get under the tape and then walked along the pathway, noting the mud and rapidly moving to the side as he did so, as others had earlier that day.

He approached the uniformed sergeant, who said, ‘One male, appears deceased, sir. Found by a dog walker, about an hour ago.'

‘Naked, I understand?' Hennessey looked from side to side and enjoyed the fresh rural air.

‘Yes, sir,' the police sergeant confirmed. ‘No clothing at all.'

‘Where?' Hennessey enquired. ‘Where is the body?'

‘Over here, sir.' The police sergeant led Hennessey to the slight eminence which was the grassy area where Dr Mann and a constable stood and where the body lay, hidden from view to anyone who stood on the path.

Dr Mann turned and smiled at Hennessey as Hennessey approached. ‘I have declared life extinct at 07.40 hours,' Dr Mann said. He was a young man and was proudly wearing a turban. ‘I have also requested the attendance of a pathologist.'

‘SOCO have also been asked to attend,' the sergeant added, ‘but, as you can see, they're not here yet. They're probably working out which way up to hold the road map.'

Hennessey glanced at the police sergeant and permitted the man a brief smile, being all too aware of the level of separateness that had developed between the uniformed branch and the scene-of-crime officers. ‘Very good,' he said. ‘Thank you.'

‘Death seems to have been caused by a severing of the jugular artery which caused massive exsanguination,' Dr Mann continued, ‘but that is not for me to determine, though you can see the great depth of the knife wound to the throat. It would not be possible to survive a wound like that; the head is almost severed from the body.'

‘Indeed.' Hennessey looked at the corpse. ‘It does indeed seem that someone was making sure, all right.'

‘So I have done all I can,' Dr Mann added. ‘I have another call to attend, although that one sounds less messy and also by natural causes, which is often less distressing than suspicious circumstances. And it's still not eight a.m.'

‘No rest for the wicked.' Hennessey grinned.

‘Yes, it seems that it's going to be one of those days.' Dr Mann returned the grin. ‘Such days occur every now and then.'

‘Well, thank you, sir.' Hennessey held his hat on his head at the arrival of a sudden zephyr. ‘I have control of the scene.'

Dr Mann walked away and, as he did so, as if responding to some unseen cue, Hennessey, the sergeant and the constables all stepped back from the body, still continuing to guard it but by then at a respectful distance. The low clouds moved across the sky, distant birds sang, one or two flies began to hover over the corpse and the far-away hum of traffic could be heard, but near at hand silence reigned, eventually broken by the police sergeant who announced, ‘The pathologist has arrived, sir.'

Hennessey turned and smiled briefly as he saw the tall, slender, short-haired figure of Louise D'Acre walking confidently towards them wearing green coveralls. She also elected to walk beside, rather than on, the muddy pathway. She carried, Hennessey noted, her usual highly polished black Gladstone bag.

‘Constable,' the sergeant turned to the nearest police officer, ‘please be good enough to take the doctor's bag.'

‘Sir!' The constable jogged enthusiastically towards Louise D'Acre and extended his hand while saying something. Hennessey was clearly able to lip read Dr D'Acre saying, ‘Thank you' as she smiled and handed him her bag. She continued walking towards where Hennessey and the constables stood, with the constable carrying her bag walking respectfully behind her.

‘Thank you for attending so promptly, ma'am.' George Hennessey spoke softly when Dr D'Acre was within earshot. ‘We have a deceased adult male. Doctor Mann, the duty police surgeon, has pronounced life extinct at 07.40 hours this day. He has subsequently departed the scene.'

‘I see.' Dr D'Acre smiled broadly. ‘Thank you. Where is the deceased?'

‘Just over here, ma'am.' Hennessey indicated the raised area of grass a few feet from the path. ‘I'll show you.'

Hennessey and Dr D'Acre walked side by side over the rough ground until they reached the deceased.

‘Yes. Deceased, as you say,' Dr D'Acre commented, ‘very clearly deceased. In fact, I have rarely seen a more deeply cut throat. No one could survive that … clean through the carotid artery, it seems. It also appears to have been done here – the murder, I mean. He has exsanguinated locally. You see the dark area of grass … that's his blood. Or it was his blood. I dare say it belongs to the insects now. They'll make quite a meal of it. He wasn't murdered elsewhere and his body brought here. This precise location is where he drew his last breath … this is where he met his maker. God rest him, whoever he was. He was a very small man, very slightly built, barely five feet tall, I'd guess, or 153 centimetres in Europe speak. No clothing …'

‘No, ma'am,' Hennessey replied, ‘his clothing may have been removed to slow down the identification of him but if he's known … well … his fingerprints and his DNA will be on record and at some point he'll be reported to us as a missing person … if he is local.'

‘It seems that the murder or murderers were disturbed?' Dr D'Acre commented. ‘Don't you think …?'

‘Sorry, ma'am?' Hennessey glanced at her. ‘Disturbed? Why do you say that?'

‘Well, is that or is that not a petrol can I see.' She pointed away from the path towards the adjacent field. ‘And perhaps his clothing beside it?'

‘Seems it is.' Hennessey's eyes fell on the dark grey jerry can which lay on its side some one hundred yards away, he estimated. He also saw male clothing strewn about the field but close to the petrol can.

‘You know, if I was a betting lady, I would wager that that can is full of petrol,' Dr D'Acre commented, ‘or that petrol has been recently spilled from it, in which case it will smell most strongly of the stuff.'

‘Sergeant,' Hennessey turned and called to the uniformed sergeant, ‘have that jerry can checked for petrol, please.'

‘Sir!' The sergeant turned to the nearest constable and spoke some words which were unintelligible to Hennessey but caused the young constable to sprint across the ground into the next field to where the jerry can lay. He called back with a powerful voice which carried across the distance, ‘It's full, sir, with male clothing also all about here.'

‘You're doing our job for us, ma'am,' Hennessey commented. ‘We should have seen that can and that clothing.'

‘Not at all – you'd have found it quickly enough but my guess is that the clothing was removed to aid the burning of the body and to hinder his being identified by that means … but he or they were disturbed, so it would seem. Did you see the footprints on the path?'

‘Yes, ma'am,' Hennessey replied, ‘we did note them.'

‘It seems that quite a gang walked along the path last night. It's a strange place for a lot of folk to walk … very strange … the path leads to that wood … probably something illegal was being perpetuated – badger baiting, perhaps – but the arrival of those people probably prevented the corpse being incinerated. We would still have had dental records and DNA and we could rebuild the face using the skull but it would have been more difficult, more time consuming. So those persons who tramped along the path last night did us both a favour.' Dr D'Acre glanced along the path to the wood. ‘Whoever they were, whatever they were up to, we should thank them.'

‘Seems so, ma'am.' Hennessey also looked towards the small wood. ‘We'll take a walk round that wood when we have finished here, see what we see, find what we find.'

‘So … back to the job in hand.' Dr D'Acre considered the corpse. ‘A few flies have arrived. There will be a lot more as soon as the day heats up but that will help to establish the time of death which you know is not my job – the cause is, not the time – but it doesn't take a medical eye to state that this person was murdered within the last twelve hours, most probably by having his throat slit but fences are to be climbed, not rushed. We'll say “probably” for now.'

‘Yes, ma'am,' Hennessey replied, ‘within the last twelve hours … slit throat.'

‘I'll take a rectal temperature and a ground temperature and then the deceased can be lifted into a body bag.' Dr D'Acre knelt and opened her highly polished Gladstone bag. ‘Will you be observing the post-mortem for the police, Chief Inspector?'

‘Yes … yes, I think I will,' Hennessey replied. ‘This one we'll have quite an interest in, if the deceased is who I am beginning to think it is. Slightly built, five feet tall … so, yes, I'll be observing for the police.'

‘Shall we say ten a.m.?' Dr D'Acre placed the thermometer on the ground. ‘We're quiet at the moment; I can do this post-mortem this morning.'

‘Ten a.m.? Yes, ma'am,' Hennessey replied, ‘I'll be there. We're just waiting for SOCO now to take the crime-scene photographs. I'm beginning to wonder if the sergeant wasn't joking after all when he suggested the reason for their delay.'

‘Oh … what was that?' Dr D'Acre noted the reading on the thermometer.

‘That they're working out which way up to hold the road map.'

Dr D'Acre chuckled.

George Hennessey leaned against the windowsill in the detective constables' room. His team sat or stood in a semicircle in front of him. ‘Well, it had to happen.' He folded his arms. ‘The quiet period which permitted us to take a fresh look at the murder of the Middleton family twenty years ago has come to an end with a murder which took place last night. A male … appears early middle-aged, was murdered … throat cut … dumped in the countryside near Sand Hutton. There may have been an attempt to burn the body which was thwarted by the arrival of a group of people making their way to a nearby wood, possibly to undertake some form of criminal activity. The uniformed boys were going to take a look in the wood as I was leaving the scene, SOCO having turned up in their own sweet time and full of bumbling, mumbling apologies.'