R Wingfield - A Killing Frost

‘We tramped for miles, Guv. He says it all looks different and it was night time. He pointed out about five places it might have been, but it wasn’t.’

‘Never mind, Taff. Nip up to the canteen and get two sausage sandwiches and two mugs of tea and bring them to the Incident Room.’

On his way to the Incident Room, Frost was stopped by Johnny Johnson, the duty station sergeant.

‘That bloke Beazley from the supermarket wants to know if you’ve caught the blackmailer.’

‘Tell him I’m out on a murder inquiry and you don’t know when I’ll be back.’

‘And two officers from Manchester CID are on their way. Should be here later this morning.’ Frost screwed up his face as he tried to think why two officers from Manchester would be coming. He snapped his fingers. ‘Oh – the decomposing body. I hope they take it back with them. Let Skinner see them – he should be here soon.’

The hot sausage had melted the butter, which was making the bread all soggy as Frost bit into it. He pushed the remains of the sandwich into his mouth, swilled it down with a mouthful of tea, then wiped his fingers on the front of his jacket. He had a small team assembled for the search of Lewis’s bungalow: Norton from SOCO, Harding from Forensic, PC Jordan, Taffy and WPC Kate Holby.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and fed in a cigarette. ‘You all know what this is about. Lewis walked in here last night claiming he’d murdered his wife and cut her up into pieces, which he says he chucked, but can’t remember where. He says he thinks he left her heart in San Francisco, but that might just be a song he remembers.’ He grinned at the ripple of laughter. ‘The poor sod hasn’t got all his marbles, so this could all be in his mind. He had to give up his butcher’s shop last year and his five-year-old kid died of meningitis a couple of years back. He reckons he killed his wife in the kitchen, then butchered her in the bath. That should mean a lot of blood. The place looks as if it has been scrubbed and disinfected from top to bottom, but even so, I’m hoping we can still find some. I want drains and waste pipes checked. I want the place searched thoroughly in case there’s any bits of body lying around he might have missed.’ He turned to Kate Holby. ‘Check the wardrobes and drawers and things. If she’s upped and left him, has she taken the sort of things you’d expect a woman-to take, like a chastity belt or open-crotch knickers? Jordan, I want you to knock up the neighbours. See if they can throw any light on the missing woman. Did they see anything suspicious, like her husband sawing her arms and legs off without her permission?’ He swivelled round to the cork board and pinned up a photograph. ‘This is Mrs Lewis. If you find a head, make sure it’s the right one, otherwise chuck it back. I want this to be thorough, but speedy. We’ve then got a murder site and a bike to find.’ He looked out of the window. ‘At least the rain’s stopped.’ He drained the dregs of his tea. ‘All right. Let’s go.’

Curtains twitched as the flotilla of police cars pulled up outside the bungalow. ‘Plenty of nosy sods about,’ Frost told Jordan, ‘so start knocking on doors.’

He unlocked the front door with Lewis’s key and winced as the cold, antiseptic atmosphere again hit him in the face. ‘At least you can’t smell rotting bodies,’ he muttered, ‘but even that would be preferable.’ Somehow, even without Lewis being present, he couldn’t bring himself to smoke inside, so went out into the garden to light up and watched Jordan going from house to house, knocking on doors. Clangings from the bathroom told him the waste pipes were being opened up. Behind him, Norton from SOCO was heaving up a manhole cover to inspect the drains. A cry from Taffy Morgan sent him flying back inside the bungalow.

‘There’s a loft, Guv, did you know?’ Morgan pointed to a small trapdoor over the hall.

‘Don’t tell me about it,’ snapped Frost. ‘Get your Welsh butt up there and take a look.’

Morgan located a small stepladder in the garden shed and heaved himself up, his torch flashing around the tiny loft, which had in sufficient headroom for anyone to stand. ‘It’s all clean and dusted up here, Guv,’ he reported. ‘Just a couple of suitcases and a kiddy’s pedal car.’

‘Chuck the suitcases down,’ said Frost.

They were full of children’s clothes, all ironed and neatly folded.

‘Put them back where you found them,’ Frost told him, ‘and if he asks, we never touched them.’

The clang of the manhole cover being replaced sent him scurrying back outside. Norton wasn’t optimistic. ‘It’s been scrubbed and disinfected, Inspector. I’ve taken samples but they’re probably going to be pure carbolic. If there was ever any blood it’s been well washed away.’

Frost nodded gloomily. ‘More or less what I expected.’

Back inside, Kate Holby was waiting for him. ‘I’ve checked the wardrobes, the dressing table and the coat racks, Inspector. No sign of a woman’s coat, handbag or day-to-day shoes. I’d say she packed her bags and walked out on him.’

‘Probably couldn’t stand the smell of disinfectant,’ said Frost. ‘I can’t say it turns me on. Thanks, love.’ He looked up expectantly as Harding came out of the bathroom.

‘That was a complete waste of time.’

‘Why, are you constipated?’ asked Frost.

A sour smile from Harding, who never found Frost’s jokes funny. ‘Everything has been disinfected and scrubbed clean. Even so, if he had dismembered a body in there I’d expect to find some traces of blood, but I can’t.’

‘Ah well,’ said Frost philosophically, ‘we had to check it out just to pretend we’re thorough.’ He raised enquiring eyebrows at Jordan, who had just returned from the neighbours. ‘Anyone looking after bloodstained parcels for him?’

Jordan grinned. ‘Not a lot of joy, Inspector. Mrs Lewis used to help out at the butcher’s shop from time to time and they got on well with the neighbours. But when their kiddy died they were both absolutely devastated and hardly spoke to anyone. Lewis got more and more morose – even in the shop, which didn’t help the business. They hardly saw him at all after he lost the tenancy, but they could hear flaming rows from time to time. No one saw the wife leave, but she hasn’t been seen around for a week or so.’

‘Did she have any family – anyone she might run to?’

‘Parents died years ago. One brother in Australia.’

Frost grunted his thanks and called everyone together. ‘OK, everyone. Back to the station, then I want you out looking for that bike and the murder site.’ He jabbed a finger at Morgan. ‘One more job for you, Taff. If she walked out on him, she’s going to need money. Find out if she has a credit card and if it’s been used recently. I’m busting for a pee, but that toilet looks so hygienic, I’m afraid to squeeze a drop out.’

‘Skinner’s screaming for you,’ said Wells as Frost walked through the lobby.

‘Why am I so irresistible to that man?’ asked Frost. ‘I’ll see him in a minute. We’re going to have to kick Lewis out.’

'No bits of body?’

‘No bits of body, not even the odd nipple. I reckon she walked out on him.’

‘Are you going to charge him with wasting police time?’

Frost shook his head. ‘I reckon the poor sod really believes he did kill her. He can’t face up to the fact that she’s left him. He needs treatment, not being put away.’

‘Frost!’ Skinner’s angry voice roared down the corridor. He was by his open office door and didn’t look at all pleased. ‘I want you.’

‘Won’t be two ticks,’ called Frost.

‘Now!’ bellowed Skinner, disappearing into his office and slamming the door.