Stephen Booth - The Corpse Bridge

‘I suppose that’s true,’ admitted Cooper.

Since he’d been promoted to Detective Sergeant, Cooper had concentrated on taking the trouble to bring his DCs on. He wanted to let them take responsibility and get some credit for their work. Not everybody did that. But it was true what Branagh said. The police service had become a competitive business. Like lots of people working in private sector businesses, you had to be able to justify your job these days.

‘You can be too self-effacing, you know,’ emphasised Branagh. ‘In this profession you have to get yourself noticed if you want to get on. Otherwise they’ll just bring somebody in over your head. People who lie down get walked over.’

‘Yes, I do know that,’ said Cooper.

Branagh watched him carefully, then nodded. Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

‘Well, if it does happen, Ben,’ she said, ‘let’s hope it’s a police officer at least, and not someone brought in from managing a supermarket.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Cooper.

He realised the interview was over and got up to leave. Branagh was exaggerating, of course. But only a bit. The government’s new scheme would soon bring in twenty direct-entry police superintendents from other businesses and professions, along with eighty fast-tracked inspectors, graduates on a three-year scheme taking them straight from constable rank to the first rung of the management ladder. Many were already on training courses at the College of Policing.

There were very few police officers who didn’t believe that experience working on the frontline was essential for anyone holding a senior management position on the operational side. How could you expect someone to make high-pressure decisions in an emergency situation when they’d never had to respond to an emergency themselves? Surely they needed first-hand knowledge.

But it was too late to fight the changes. The new scheme would allow outsiders to leap over thousands of officers who’d spent years building experience, working in a variety of roles across the force. One day a chief constable would be appointed who had never made an arrest.

Those new inspectors had to be graduates with good degrees, but would at least have spent a short time as constables and sergeants. But neither of those was a requirement for a direct-entry superintendent, though that was two ranks above inspector. The new batch of supers might be from the armed forces or the intelligence services. They could be prison governors or existing members of civilian staff. But the guidelines said they could equally be ‘people with experience of running private sector operations’.

So Branagh’s half-joking reference wasn’t quite accurate. A newly appointed inspector couldn’t come straight from being a supermarket manager. But a new superintendent could.

It’s time to get out.

Cooper had heard those words said more and more often over the past few months. And it wasn’t just from Gavin Murfin either.

‘By the way,’ said Branagh as Cooper left her office.

‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘Detective Sergeant Fry is with us for the briefing. Representing the Major Crime Unit, of course.’

‘Yes.’

Cooper waited, sensing that Branagh had something else to say. If it was in connection with Diane Fry, it might be something he didn’t want to hear.

‘It would be good,’ said Branagh, ‘if we could manage without the assistance of the MCU on this occasion.’

He nodded, not sure what she expected him to say in response to that.

‘I feel it would be good for the division,’ she said. ‘And especially … Ben, it would be especially good for you. It would be wonderful if we could fill a vacancy at inspector level before those direct entrants start to arrive.’

Cooper swallowed at the enormity of the challenge he was being presented with. Was he ready for this? But Branagh was waiting for an acknowledgement of some kind.

‘Ben, remember what I said, won’t you?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.

The briefing room wasn’t as full as it ought to have been. Cooper remembered it being packed out in the past, with standing room only for those at the back. Superintendent Branagh led the briefing herself, with Detective Inspector Dean Walker alongside her. Walker was relatively inexperienced, but Branagh had many years as a senior investigating officer.

Currently, the Sandra Blair inquiry was treated as a suspicious death. Results of the post-mortem examination were expected later today and would surely raise the classification to a murder case when the cause of death was established.

The details known about the victim were already familiar to Cooper. He and Luke Irvine had obtained most of them over the weekend. But forensic examination of the scene at the bridge had been continuing for the past forty-eight hours. So had the search of the woods on either side of the river, the search area gradually expanding to cover most of the hillside and the tracks leading down to the bridge. Witness statements had been taken from the young man who discovered the body, Rob Beresford, as well as from Geoff and Sally Naden, and Jason Shaw.

Now there would be an assessment of what lines of inquiry could be followed up and which would be most urgent.

‘According to the forensic medical examiner, the victim died somewhere between 6 p.m. and midnight on Friday,’ said Branagh. ‘That’s an estimate based on body temperature and the extent of rigor mortis and lividity. As usual we can’t get a more specific timeframe. No witnesses have come forward who had contact with the victim between those times. The body was found at around 1 a.m. by a young man called Robson Beresford, whose statement we have. The other witness statements are vague, but I think we can take them as indicating the presence of at least two people in the woods near the scene earlier that night. One of them may have been our victim. But we can’t be sure of that.’

Becky Hurst raised a hand to get attention.

‘Yes, DC Hurst?’

‘These statements suggest that someone was being chased,’ said Hurst. ‘Were there any signs on the victim that she’d been running?’

‘Such as?’

‘Scratches on her hands and face from the undergrowth, mud splashes on her clothing. She might have been sweating from the exertion.’

‘There was certainly mud on her shoes and some of her clothes. But that could simply have resulted from being on the riverbank. We’ll get an analysis of the spread of the mud splashes if we can. But bear in mind that the victim was lying in the river. Much of the mud will have dispersed.’

Cooper nodded across at Hurst. ‘It’s an important point, ma’am,’ he said. ‘If the victim had been running, that sort of physical exertion makes a difference to the rate of onset of rigor mortis.’

‘Yes, it would speed up the onset of rigor, particularly in the legs,’ agreed Branagh. ‘On the other hand, the weather was cold and she was partially submerged in water, both of which would slow the process down. So it’s a case of swings and roundabouts, I suppose. Rigor was certainly fairly well advanced by the time we attended the scene.’

She was right, of course. Cooper recalled the rigidity of the victim’s limbs as she was removed from the river. When her muscles relaxed at the moment of death, she’d fallen into an awkward, tangled position, then rigor mortis had begun to set in, first in the small muscles of the face and neck before spreading to the rest of the body. Even Rob Beresford had remarked on the flat, staring eyes that had so frightened him. The eyes were among the first parts of the body to be affected by rigor.

Branagh consulted her briefing notes. ‘As far as the victim’s movements are concerned, all we know is that she left her place of work between one and one-thirty on Thursday afternoon. That’s the Hartdale tea rooms in Hartington. She seems to have returned to her home in Crowdecote at some time during the afternoon, but went out again later on. Since her car was still parked outside her house when it was visited by DS Cooper and DC Irvine on Friday, we have to conclude that she either went with someone else or took a taxi, or possibly set out on foot.’