Кара Хантер - In the Dark

‘I’m not sure it’ll be much use –’

‘Just do it. What the fuck else do I pay you for?’

Sexton slams down the phone and stares again at the TV screen. They’re clearly doing a reprise of the Hannah Gardiner disappearance; some lank-haired psychic is on reminding the world at large how she predicted the number three would hold the key to the case, and a montage of two-year-old headlines is fading in and out: Was missing girl abducted by Satanic cult? Midsummer mystery deepens as police deny evidence of pagan rite. Toddler found near site of human sacrifice.

Sexton puts his head in his hands; that’s all I fucking need.

***

‘We thought we’d wait for you before we opened it,’ says the pathologist. ‘And it isn’t even your birthday.’

His name is Colin Boddie. And yes, I know, that’s not funny. Only it is; of course it is. He’s heard the gags so many times he’s developed his own brand of pathological humour to go with it. It can sound crass, if you don’t know him, but it’s just a form of carapace. A way to keep the horror at bay. And what they’ve got here – despite the daylight and all the busy professional apparatus – is still the stuff of nightmares.

People in the houses either side were leaning out of their windows as we walked down the garden. Odds-on, some bastard has put a picture on bloody Twitter by now.

Inside the shed there’s a gaping hole in the floor. And around it, us. Forensics, Gislingham and Quinn. And now me. Boddie bends down carefully and cuts away the rotten blanket and the tape. First one side, and then the other. We all know what we are going to see, but it’s a clench to the gut all the same. It’s lying head down, so we can’t see the face. Thanks be to God for small mercies. But there are still the shreds of livid purple and green skin shrunk against the ribcage. The clawing hands. The lower legs reduced to gnawed and whitened bone.

‘As you can see, there’s been partial mummification of the remains,’ says Boddie evenly. ‘Not that surprising given that the body was well wrapped, and there’d have been ventilation under this floor. Though it looks like the bottom of the blanket wasn’t very well sealed as we’re missing most of the smaller bones in the feet and ankles. That’s probably down to rats. There are clear signs of rodent infestation all over this area.’

I glance up to see Quinn making a face.

‘The cadaver is definitely female,’ continues Boddie. ‘And a fair amount of the hair remains as well, as you can see.’ He bends down and looks closer, parting the matted strands with a plastic pen. ‘As for cause of death, I can see what appears to be significant blunt force trauma to the parietal bone. Though I’ll have to get her on the table to be sure.’

‘Could she have survived something like that?’ asks Gislingham, his face pale.

Boddie considers. ‘She’d have been knocked unconscious, without question. But possibly not killed outright. Look.’ He crouches down again and points at something caught about the withered wrists. ‘I think you’ll find that’s a cable tie. That could suggest she died some time after the initial blow.’

I remember what Everett said; about Harper tying her up and leaving her there while he went to dump her child and her car. Because he’d have wanted her alive, for when he got back. For what he wanted to do to her.

‘Is there any way of knowing how long she survived?’

Boddie shakes his head. ‘I doubt it. Could have been hours. Days, even.’

‘Jesus,’ says Gislingham under his breath.

Boddie straightens up. ‘There’s a lot of decomp underneath, but all the same I’m pretty sure she didn’t die here. On this blanket, I mean. There’d have been an absolute slew of blood and brain tissue.’

I sometimes wish Boddie wasn’t quite so good with words.

‘And she was naked, by the way. Wrapped up like this, some of the clothes would have survived, but there’s nothing here.’

Gislingham isn’t the only one who’s gone pale now. We’re all playing versions of the same scene in our heads. Waking up with your hands tied. Stripped. In pain. Knowing that it was only a matter of time.

‘Why would the killer do that – was it sexual?’

‘Either that or they wanted to humiliate her. Either way you’re looking at a very nasty piece of work.’

As if we didn’t know.

‘Right,’ says Challow briskly. ‘If you lot can clear the area, we’ll bring the photographer back in and start packing up all this stuff.’

***

BBC News

Tuesday 2 May 2017 | Last updated at 15:23

BREAKING: Body found in Oxford cellar case

The BBC has learned that a body has been found at the house in North Oxford where a girl and a small boy were discovered yesterday morning. Forensics personnel have been seen removing human remains from the garden, which are believed to be those of a woman. Speculation is mounting that officers could have discovered the body of the BBC journalist Hannah Gardiner, 27, who disappeared at Wittenham on Midsummer’s Day two years ago, and whose 2-year-old son, Toby, was subsequently found nearby.

Hannah was last seen by her husband, Rob, at their flat in Crescent Square on the morning of 24 June 2015, on her way to cover a story at the Wittenham Clumps protest camp. The fact that her Mini Clubman was in the adjacent car park, along with several apparent sightings and the discovery of Toby Gardiner, led police to believe she had disappeared in the Wittenham area.

Reginald Shore, a protester at the site who was subsequently jailed for a sexual assault in Warwick, was questioned extensively about Hannah’s disappearance, but no charges were ever brought. His son, Matthew, is now writing a book about the case, and said this morning, ‘My father was the victim of a witch-hunt by Thames Valley Police, spearheaded by Detective Superintendent Alastair Osbourne. We will now be renewing our calls for my father’s conviction to be overturned and for the Independent Police Complaints Commission to investigate the handling of the Hannah Gardiner case. Her family deserve to know the truth, and I will be doing everything I can personally to make sure that happens.’

Thames Valley Police have declined to comment, but confirmed that a statement will be issued ‘in due course’. Detective Superintendent Osbourne retired from the force in December 2015.

***

Boddie calls me at 8.00 p.m. I was half thinking of going home, half thinking of just ordering Chinese at the desk. But I end up in the mortuary. That’s how this job goes sometimes. I call Alex on the way to let her know, and then remember she’s out with some old college friends tonight. So it looks like it was Chinese, either way.

It’s 8.45 when I park at the hospital and the day is darkening. Clouds are rolling in from the west and as I walk across to the entrance I feel the first spots of rain.

In the morgue, the body is laid out carefully on a metal table.

‘I’ve sent some of the bones for DNA,’ says Boddie, rinsing his hands in the sink. ‘And forensics have taken the blanket for analysis.’

‘Anything more on cause of death?’

Boddie goes over to the body and points out the indentations on the skull. ‘There were definitely two separate blows. The first struck her here, and probably knocked her unconscious. Then here – can you see? – the damage is much more extensive. That’s what actually killed her, and the weapon definitely had some sort of edge to it. The first blow probably wouldn’t have bled very much, but the second certainly would have.’

You know, I think I’ll pass on that Chinese, after all.