Lee Weeks: Dead of Winter

She nodded. ‘It’s what I wanted. I requested it.’

Carter shifted a little in his seat so that he could turn and face her.

‘Why? What was it about it that appealed?’ Ebony shrugged. She buried her chin further into her scarf. The car was beginning to feel too small. Carter knew she was getting uncomfortable. It only made him push her a little more. ‘You know, Ebb, we’re going to spend a lot of time sat in this car together. It’s going to get very boring if you don’t start opening up.’ She turned to see if he was teasing; he was only half smiling. He was watching her intently; seeing how far he could push her before he was in danger of making her mistrust him. ‘Good detectives need to allow themselves to feel things: emotions, raw stuff. I bet you most detectives in the squad would rather watch a good rom-com than a film where people blast the shit out of each other. They are sensitive souls — too much, sometimes.’

‘I know how things feel.’ She looked at Carter; something about his manner reassured her. She realized he reminded her of a boy she once knew; a boy who’d befriended her in one of the homes she’d stayed in.

‘I’m not having a go at you, Ebb, believe me. I’m just saying, you bring a lot to the table. You’re bright, eager. I can see you know your stuff. You can make it really work for you as a detective. You’ll get further than I will, that’s for sure. You okay?’

‘Fine.’

‘Okay. . What were your initial thoughts when you saw the baby?’

She sat up: alert. He smiled to himself. If there was one way to get close to Ebony it was through dead bodies. ‘Just delivered. Cord still intact. Grave wax the same as on the mother’s body, buried the same time. Someone’s dirty secret maybe? Perhaps he got rid of his wife and baby to make room for someone else.’

‘He’s got money.’

‘Yes, Sarge, and he’s young enough to attract women.’

‘Fit enough to bury them under the patio.’

‘Over thirty-five, under fifty-five then, Sarge.’

‘But why did he choose to kill them here? In this way? If I had money I would go abroad on a holiday and have an accident happen to my wife.’

Ebony looked towards the house as the front door opened to Blackdown Barn.

‘Someone’s on the move, Sarge.’

They watched a tall frame emerge into the light at the front of the house and start to walk down the drive towards them and the empty car parked behind.

‘It’s Trevor Bishop from Forensics. That means SOCOs must have finished the initial search. We can go in, Ebb. . rock and roll. . let’s go.’ Carter got out of the car.

Bishop was loading bags into his boot.

‘You off, Trev?’

Bishop nodded: ‘Getting back to load these prints into the system.’ He lifted his case in. ‘I’ll see you at the meeting at eight. We’re going to be back-and-forth here: still need to pick up the rest of the furniture; it has to be done in stages.’ He handed them some more suits from the boot of his car. ‘Change your suits before you go inside.’

‘Will do.’

Inside the entrance Sandford, the Crime Scene Manager, head of the SOCOs, was dismantling the door to a room on the left.

‘How’s it looking, Sandford?’ Carter asked. Sandford didn’t answer and stepped past him into the lounge. ‘This place even feels dead.’ Carter stepped in with him and stood in the middle of the room looking around. ‘Exposed brickwork and low beams. Nightmare to clean. Full of spiders.’

Sandford didn’t stop what he was doing. He was thinking to himself. . ‘ Rustic charm lost on him. . ’ He picked up a power tool and applied his weight to the hinges of the door. Sandford wasn’t keen on Carter. There was something about him that irritated him. Maybe it was the rattle of his heavy gold signet bracelet or the immaculate hair. Maybe it was that Sandford was pretty sure Carter had never been to a rugby match in his life; preferred to watch the footie down the pub with his mates probably. Whatever it was. . it riled him.

Sandford kept working as he replied: ‘No one left here in a hurry. We’ll be lucky to get much.’ He glanced Ebony’s way as she stood in the entrance. She was new to him.

‘Just saw Bishop leave. . seemed happy.’ Carter stepped back into the hall. ‘We allowed all over the house?’

‘Are those new suits?’ Sandford turned and looked them over. ‘Any cross-contamination from the garden and we’ll be crucified.’

‘Yep. . suited and booted.’

‘Okay, carry on. . but keep contact down to a minimum. Enter anything you find in the log. .’

Carter glanced Ebony’s way and flicked his eyes towards the stairs. ‘We’ll start at the top.’

Ebony followed him up the broad sweeping staircase, a heavy white painted banister to one side and a large expanse of smooth plastered wall to the other. They came out on a broad landing. The layout mirrored the downstairs. On the left, above the lounge, was the master bedroom. To the right the corridor ran the length of the house and bedrooms came off it left and right. ‘I’ll start in here, Ebb.’ Carter turned left. ‘You go the other way. Tell me what you find: first impressions count, keep talking to me.’

Ebony pushed open the first door. The room smelt musty; the walls looked clean. She worked her way down the corridor.

‘How many bedrooms you found?’ Carter called out to her after a few minutes.

‘Four up this end, Sarge, two en suite. All been slept in. They have a “lived-in” smell but someone’s gone to lengths to wash the walls.’

‘They got beds?’

‘Yes. The beds are still here. They look very clean. No mattress covers.’

‘This one hasn’t. Come and take a look.’ Ebony made her way back to where she’d left him. She crossed to stand next to him at the window overlooking the front of the house.

‘This is the biggest of the rooms, Sarge.’

‘Must be the master bedroom, Ebb. But why is there no bed in here and no curtains either?’ She followed his gaze down over the tops of the trees at the edge of the property: still dark silhouettes. The small digger had arrived and two officers were clearing a path to get it round to the back of the house. The dawn had just managed to take hold of the sky but it had a greenish hue; it was full of snow. In the distance was the glow of London.

He looked down at the floor. ‘Why is there lino in this room? And if you were going to have lino in a bedroom why would you choose blue? It’s like a dentist’s.’

‘It isn’t typical bathroom lino, it’s thicker, more expensive.’ Ebony paused. It was one of those times that she realised she knew something without knowing why. Because it meant something. It had meant something to her when the social worker gave her mother some money to furnish their council flat. That day they had walked around every cheap flooring place they could find and all she remembered was her mother’s growing disappointment. ‘We can’t afford that Ebony — not that lino anyway: it’s too expensive.’ She remembered the feeling of building anxiety: always watching her mother; always trying to keep her happy. Keep her under control.

‘There’s been a bed on here. . you can see its imprint. A single bed — funny imprint it’s made. It’s been dragged maybe.’ He stood back to gauge the size. ‘Why in the biggest room do you put a single bed? Could be a kid’s room, Ebb?’ He looked around him. ‘But it would have to be a very tidy kid not to scuff the skirting, let alone put their hand marks on the wall.’

‘The walls have been washed, Sarge. You can still see the cloth marks. And this room doesn’t smell like the others. It doesn’t smell slept in.’

‘The smell of people gets in the carpets, in the walls. I know what you mean, Ebb. This room smells like new plastic.’