‘Where’s the body?’
‘Under the tree.’ He pointed towards a clump of oaks, close to the river.
‘Who was the first officer attending?’ she asked.
‘PC Rogers. He’s by the rendezvous point.’
‘I see him,’ she replied, after scanning the area. There were six officers strategically placed around the cordon to prevent anyone from entering the crime scene.
She headed over to Rogers and checked he’d taken the relevant steps to secure and protect the scene. They agreed he would continue in the role of keeping the scene log until someone else could take over.
Happy everything was in order and nothing was going to be compromised, she signed the scene log. ‘Walk with me,’ she said, turning to Matt. ‘I’ve just left Jamieson. He wanted to talk about the Hodgson incident.’
‘Did he give you a bollocking?’ Matt asked as they navigated their way over the footplates which had been strategically placed so that those who needed could enter the cordon without worrying they were damaging evidence.
‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything else.’ He grinned.
‘I do my best,’ she replied, grinning back at him.
They headed towards the trees. As they approached, she drew in a sharp breath. It didn’t matter how many times she confronted a dead body, it always got to her. It wasn’t that she’d throw up. She’d got over that years ago. It was more the loss of life that sickened her, even more so when it was someone young.
‘Who found the body?’ She hoped it wasn’t a group of students.
‘Doctor Georgina Cavendish, a lecturer at the university. She knows the victim and identified her as Millie Carter, a student here,’ Matt replied.
‘I’ll need to speak to her.’
‘I’ve already asked her to wait near the rendezvous point. She’s tall with short blonde hair. You can’t miss her.’
‘Good. Is the pathologist here yet?’
‘Yes. Dr Dexter arrived about ten minutes ago.’
They were lucky the forensic pathologist was on duty. Without her there, who knew when they’d be able to move the body. And the longer it stayed out here, the likelier the press would get wind of it. ‘Witnesses?’
‘None at the moment, according to Rogers. The place was deserted when the doctor found her.’
They reached the tent which was being erected near the body. Their victim would have to be photographed where she was before they could move her into the tent and start their full investigation. Killers never thought about the implications of their body dumps, Claire Dexter had once whispered to Whitney at a particularly difficult dump site she’d had to circumnavigate.
‘Hello, Claire,’ she said to the pathologist, who was staring at the body, camera in hand. She’d known her for years, and although they weren’t friends, they had a mutual respect for each other. ‘What have you got for me?’
Claire was the best forensic pathologist in Lenchester. Her looks belied her toughness. She was short, a little overweight, with red hair and freckles. She always wore the loudest, clashing colours imaginable, apart from when she had on her protective clothing. Anyone who tried to cross her would do so only once.
‘You know the drill,’ Claire said. ‘Can’t tell you much, except it doesn’t look like natural causes.’
Whitney got closer to the body, noticing the bruising around the girl’s neck. ‘Strangulation?’
‘It looks like it. There are marks around the wrists, suggesting she’d been restrained. I’ll know more when I get her on the table. I’d say she’s been moved and placed in this position.’
Whitney scrutinised the body’s position. She was leaning back against the tree trunk with her hands close to her chest. If the body had been moved and placed like that, it had to mean something. A relocated body was frustrating; it made their job harder as there would be less evidence to work with.
‘She’s fully clothed. Any indication of sexual assault?’
‘I can’t tell at the moment, though her clothes aren’t on correctly. Her jeans are pulled up and zipped, but the button is undone. Also, the buttons on her cardigan are done up incorrectly,’ Claire replied.
‘Guv,’ Matt said. ‘There’s a mobile phone on her lap.’
‘Don’t even think about touching it,’ Claire said, and then proceeded to take pictures of the wasted life in front of them.
They waited until she finished photographing and allowed them to pick it up. Whitney was about to place it into the evidence bag when the wallpaper image came up.
It was a photo of the dead girl wearing nothing but her underwear. Duct tape covered her mouth, and her hands were tied to a slatted bedhead with what appeared to be cable ties. Her legs were wide open. Although the photo didn’t show it, it looked like her ankles were tied, too.
Bile caught in her throat and she turned away. The girl was barely older than Tiffany.
She dragged in a breath, getting herself under control, determined her emotions wouldn’t get in the way. This case had to be dealt with efficiently and by the letter. She couldn’t afford it to go any other way.
‘Crap.’ She showed the image to Matt and Claire before dropping it into the evidence bag. ‘We’ll look closer when we’re back at the office.’
As she paced the ground close to the body, she checked again for evidence. Nothing seemed to be disturbed; they’d know better once the scene of crime officers had scoured the area. She headed back to where Claire stood, dictating into her recorder.
‘If she’s been moved like you suggest, then where’s the evidence? There are no tyre tracks or drag marks. If she was carried, then the perp must be strong. She’s not exactly petite.’
Even from down on the ground, it was obvious the victim was tall and solidly built. Whitney would’ve struggled to move her at all.
‘As I’ve already said, wait until we have her on the table. We’ll know more once I’ve checked the trace evidence.’
‘Okay. I’ll come and see you later in the lab.’
‘Fine. Now let me get back on with my work or I’ll be here all day.’ Claire dismissed her with a flick of her hand.
Not wanting to annoy her, Whitney moved away and headed towards the rendezvous point, anxious to speak to the woman who found the body.
Chapter Four
George shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was due in class soon, but the police officer had asked her to give her statement straight away.
The emptiness of Millie’s eyes, devoid of any life, were etched in her mind. What had happened for her life to end so suddenly? She’d always liked Millie. She had an excellent attitude to work and a genuine interest in learning. And now she was dead.
George, trying to view it from a forensic psychologist’s view point and not as someone personally invested, walked through the scene again in her mind. She’d been so stunned she hadn’t looked too closely at the body after realising who it was. But what she did remember was how Millie’s body had been positioned. Her hands held up to her chest resting on her breasts, elbows tucked in to her waist, and her fingers interlaced. It was the classic pleading pose. Almost religious. Like she was praying for her life.