The office door opened.
‘Ben, can I have a word?’
He looked up to see Detective Chief Inspector Tom Fell. He was smiling, so it wasn’t bad news. Ben stood up, following Tom out into the corridor and into his own office, closing the door behind him.
‘Morning, sir, everything okay?’
‘Yes, just a couple of things really. Have we really not located that poor woman’s family?’
‘No, we’re on it though. Husband’s car has a marker on it now and the officer who was first at scene has gone back to check the property and see if she can find anything that might have been missed yesterday.’
He nodded. ‘Good, that’s what I’d do. Look, I’m sorry to say that we’re losing Ian. He’s going through to Barrow. So with him gone, Mitch’s retirement and Des still on long-term sick leave, we’re short-staffed. Can you put out a shout to see if anyone wants to come off section and do an attachment for three months? It would give us an extra set of hands.’
‘Actually, boss, I think I know someone. She’s pretty new, though, just out of company.’
‘You mean she might be a bit green? I was thinking someone more experienced. Who applied last time?’
Ben thought back to the last set of emails he’d received and grimaced. Dan was always emailing him for a placement, but there was no way he was working with him. There was a clash of personalities between them; no matter how hard he tried not to let it, Dan’s lazy attitude towards the job annoyed Ben. There had been more than a couple of crimes that should have been solved with a bit of hard work and common sense. Dan had a knack of not following up on enquiries as efficiently as he should and Ben’s team had stepped in and got the result Dan should have in the first place. The other officer who had shown an interest was now on maternity leave.
‘Leave it with me. Would you have a problem if it was someone relatively new?’
‘Not at all, as long as they’re keen and can follow orders. We both know the key qualities are to listen to what they’re being told and be of some use.’
Ben wasn’t sure if Morgan was going to fit the bill, but she was definitely keen and willing to work hard. He would speak to her about it later, see if she was interested.
His phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He took it out, to see ‘Dr Death’ flashing across the screen, excused himself from Tom and darted out.
‘Morning, Declan.’
‘Morning, Ben. I’ve just done a preliminary examination of the body brought in last night and had to suspend it until I spoke to you. I found something of interest I thought you might like to know before I carry on.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘There are horizontal ligature marks as well as the mark of the noose. At this stage it’s impossible to say whether that means it took her a couple of attempts, or someone else strangled her and hanged her to make it look like suicide, but it makes both a possibility.’
‘I’m on my way, can you wait for me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thanks, Declan, I appreciate you phoning. I think Morgan is right, something has been off about this from the start.’
He hung up, berating himself for not looking closer yesterday at the scene. Morgan had said there was no sign of a step, that the ladder was brought over from the shed. He’d been too eager to dismiss it as suicide; he’d been to a couple of hangings from trees in public areas where the deceased had climbed the tree to get high enough to do it. You didn’t normally carry a stepladder with you on these sorts of occasions. He went back into the office, which was still empty; everyone had gone straight out to follow up on their enquiries after the briefing. Christ, this place was like a ghost ship.
Nine
Morgan pulled into the driveway of Olivia Potter’s house; it was a different scene today from the chaos that had formed on the perfectly landscaped gardens yesterday. She had half expected when she arrived to see a car parked outside and find the missing family had returned from wherever they’d been. But there was no car; it was eerily quiet. She parked the van and got out, her gaze falling on the tree where Olivia had been found. It was so sad, and she didn’t think she could ever get used to it no matter how many suicides she attended. She took the key from her pocket and opened the door once more; it didn’t smell quite so pleasant as when she’d gone inside yesterday. She could still smell the plug-in air freshener, but there was another darker, heavier scent beneath it.
She didn’t announce her arrival this time. The house looked exactly the same as it had yesterday when she’d checked. There were no trainers or school bags in the hall, which you’d expect if two teenagers were here. She ran upstairs, checked each room in turn and this time she opened wardrobe and cupboard doors. There were different-size suitcases in a cupboard. So, they hadn’t gone away.
Downstairs she checked the kitchen; there was a door next to the American-style fridge-freezer. Dan must have assumed it was the adjoining garage door yesterday. To be sure, she slid the bolt across and tugged it open. Blackness enveloped her eyes and a strong, earthy smell filled her nostrils. How had they missed this? It definitely didn’t lead to the garage, rather to a basement of some sort. Tugging the torch from her body armour, she turned it on, shining it around to look for a light switch. A pull cord dangled to the left of her and she yanked it, causing a small bulb to flicker on and illuminate the steep, wooden steps.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She had never liked cellars. Bad things happened in them. She’d read a book once, The Ghost House, and had been scared for days over the goings-on in that cellar. The smell she detected when she’d first walked into the house was coming from down there. It was much stronger. Like rotting meat. She crossed her fingers that maybe a freezer had defrosted. She thought about calling for someone to come and back her up and realised that Dan was in the other van and probably her nearest patrol. She’d rather run into the depths of hell and face Satan than have to rely on Dan to be her backup today. She could do this on her own. If he turned up and there was nothing down here, that would be another round of ammunition for him to fire her way. Spurred on, she began to walk down the wooden steps. The smell was getting stronger the closer to the bottom she got and she wondered if there might be a dead animal in here. Maybe a cat had got trapped, or a squirrel.
Still shining her torch around despite there being some light from the bulb, Morgan stepped onto the concrete floor and turned slowly to take in the large space. There were the usual things you’d expect to find in a cellar: stacks of boxes, shelves containing tools and tins of paint. Nothing out of the ordinary. As she moved around the beam from her torch illuminated a jumble of clothes in the far corner.
The light hit two small circles and reflected back towards her.
She screamed so loud it echoed around the cellar as she realised two eyes were staring at her.
Jumping back, it took her mind a few moments to process what she was seeing and then she felt her legs begin to quiver. Her hands tried to grab the radio to press the talk button and missed. She tried a second time.
‘5129 to control, I need urgent assistance.’
Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘5129, you’re very faint, can you repeat the last?’