Two Wrongs (Detective Inspector Ross Reed Book 1) (2 page)

Reed’s phone started ringing in his pocket just before he reached the investigation room doors. When he retrieved it from his pocket the caller ID revealed it was Whitehead. Reed looked through one of the small windows set into the door and spotted his superior stood near to the whiteboard, facing away from him with a phone pressed to his ear. Deciding to avoid a face to face conversation he stepped away from the window and answered the call.

When the news was delivered, Reed was relieved to be alone. His legs went weak and he used the corner he was hiding in to support himself. A body had been found. It was the phone call any leading officer dreaded. The call any officer dreaded. In fact, it was the call any normal human being dreaded.

The body was reported as being a young female. As soon as the words had hit Reed’s ears, an instant sense of failure had struck him in the pit of his stomach. To Whitehead’s credit, he wasn’t condescending, if anything he was sympathetic. Reed was now on his way to where the body had been found and was glad that Plumridge was doing the driving. He found himself tensing his whole body, gripping the hand rest on the car door with one hand and his knee with the other. When his knee began to hurt, it acted as a reminder to release his grip. It was a slow-building tension, slowly saturating his body in waves. It reminded him of being in a dentist’s chair or when he was flying and he slowly became aware that his whole body was as stiff as a board and he had to make a conscious effort to relax it, once he had, the tension would slowly begin to creep in again without him knowing and the whole cycle just repeated itself.

The body had been discovered on Thetford Common. The common itself was split in two by a road that ran through it; on one side it contained large grass areas that were kept tidy by the council with singular trees growing in random places. There were two football pitches and a gravel car park in the corner nearest the town. On the other side there was an unofficial car park entrance that was situated about one mile from the last house on the edge of the town as you drove towards Bury St Edmunds. It was a popular area for dog walkers, joggers, teen drinkers and the odd temporary gypsy settlement with caravans and tethered horses. The plants grew wild with only the tracks that had been worn into them over a period of years spoiling the natural setting. Reed had been there once as part of a team of officers who had moved on a group of Lithuanians that had made a small area amongst the trees their home. He had stood watch as tents, clothes and food had been packed away but rubbish left. A week later, complaints had come in from the public that the immigrants had simply moved to the cared for side of the common and set up there, forcing everybody to admit that they had been less of a problem where they had been in the first place.

The body had been found on the side that was left to look after itself and as they approached the outskirts of Thetford and the Common began, traffic had begun to slow as people tried to get a glimpse of what the police were doing. Reed could see police cars peeking through the bushes as they approached and wondered if they could have been better hidden. Parked on the road was a red Vauxhall Corsa with its hazard lights flashing and an irate-looking pensioner who was holding a Yorkshire Terrier in his arms and arguing with a uniformed officer that above all else, his dog’s walk was paramount. Other officers solemnly stood around awaiting instructions. There were two Crime Scene Investigation vans waiting to do their work. Whitehead had promised Reed that nothing would be disturbed until he got there to have a look.

The journey had been quiet and Reed looked over to Plumridge. He was a plump man who always seemed to have a thin layer of sweat on his head during the summer, making the wispy hairs at the side and back of his head stick down flat to his skin. He wore grey trousers, brown loafer shoes, a white shirt that had faint red stripes running vertically, and a bright red tie to set the look off. Reed didn’t think he had seen him in anything different for work. A grey suit jacket in winter maybe, but the styles and colours always stayed the same.

Plumridge was concentrating hard on the road ahead of him. He was normally a chatty man but he had hardly spoken a word since they had started their journey. There wasn’t a lot to say really and Reed took the time to contemplate whether he’d wished for a breakthrough in the case a little too hard. He hadn’t given up hope of finding Carmella Chapman alive. Not until about forty minutes ago anyway. The body hadn’t yet been identified but to Reed’s knowledge there were no other missing females that it could be, so if it wasn’t Carmella, it was some other poor soul who hadn’t been noticed as missing yet.

“Do you think it’s her?” Plumridge finally found his voice.

“Yes.” Reed replied. Then he went back to chewing his lip, letting the silence take a hold just as quickly as it had gone away.

As they finally pulled off the road, Plumridge guided the vehicle between two squad cars. Reed kept praying for some sort of mix up and that it wasn’t really Carmella. It could be a mannequin. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened. His brother, who was a retained fire-fighter at Watton, had spent five hours waiting for crime scene officials to give the OK to remove a suspected body from a pond. Only it wasn’t a body; it was two carrier bags caught amongst fallen branches under the water. They had probably been there for years but with winter clearing the algae and the inquisitive mind of a dog walker, two undecided PCs; it had sparked a full scale murder scene enquiry. Reed was hoping for something similar here.

As he exited the car he was greeted by a police officer, “Hello, sir. I’m PC Ashton; I was the one who first attended the call.”

“Good of you to come over, can you give me a quick rundown?” Reed said, pulling the collar of his coat up to protect his neck from the fine drizzle that had begun to fall.

“Well, I got a call that a member of the public had found a body. When I arrived, Mr Roberts was sat in his car. He was grateful of the company, having had quite a shock. He had stopped there because he needed a pee, and knew the ground sinks down into a kind of pit. Says his bladder isn’t what it was and he couldn’t risk waiting until he had finished his walk. Then he saw some bushes a little further down and decided it was better cover. That’s when he saw the body and called the police.”

“Did he get to go?”

“Go, sir?” PC Ashton asked.

“Yes, go. Go for a pee?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Well, we need to know so the crime scene workers don’t waste any time on the contents of Mr Roberts’ bladder.” Reed said.

“Yes, sir. I’ll find out.” Ashton agreed. “Anyway, Mr Roberts guided me to the area and I edged down the embankment. I tried not to get too close, but I squatted down and saw what I believed to be a body of a young female.”

“Ok, thank you.”

The officer walked away and Reed felt the damp start to seep through his clothes. He wondered if the drizzle was fine enough to shoot straight through the fibres of his clothing and directly onto his skin. That’s what it felt like it was doing. Having enjoyed a sunny couple of weeks, the weather had turned to this. Everyone would be saying the same old things they did every year, like “The grass needed it” or “It’s freshened up the air.” Reed didn’t much care for the grass right now and he didn’t think the air had been too stale in the first place. Although it
was
fitting that the sky had turned dark today, providing the perfect backdrop for this turn of events and mirroring Reed’s feelings.

He was dreading going to see the body; after he had ambled around the car park for as long as he could wasting time, he had no choice but to make his way down towards one of the dirt tracks, through the bushes and find the pit. As he set off, he looked over to his right and saw DS Alice Tyler talking to Plumridge, who had soon hot footed it away from Reed after parking the car so he didn’t have to accompany him to see this. Tyler was about the only friend Reed had on the force. She was attractive in an intelligent sort of way. She was tall and slim and had a pale, creamy complexion. Her hair had the tightest ringlets he had ever seen and they were always pulled back into a ponytail, coloured a bright auburn. The colour of her hair was as natural as her ringlets she had once told him, not revealing exactly how natural that was. Reed always thought that if you were to remove the band holding it all together at the back of her head, her hair would shoot out into a perfect afro with the same gusto as a spring breaking free from a cartoon bed.

As Reed made his way through the bushes that seemed to be scattered around in no particular order, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had been planted this way or was Mother Nature slowly claiming back her land? He hoped it was Mother Nature. PC Ashton was on hand to point out which track to follow and after only a few metres he spotted two officers at the cusp of the pit. One was taking official photos of the area before it got disturbed too much. The other officer was holding a clipboard; it was his job to keep a log of anybody that entered the cordoned-off area and a ring of police tape weaved its way around the trees indicating exactly where this was.

It was the third day that Carmella had been missing and in some way he hoped she had been here the whole time. He hoped she hadn’t been held captive for all this time and put through a living hell before being killed. Maybe an accident had occurred and she knew nothing of her own death. There was also the selfish reason; if she had died before she was reported missing, it would mean that he hadn’t had a chance at finding her alive.

The weather had been hot and sunny up until today and Reed wondered if her flesh had been left to bake in the sun? He sniffed reluctantly at the air. There was a smell he recognised but couldn’t identify. At least it wasn’t flesh, baked or otherwise. He had seen dead bodies before but most had been in a state of rest, laid out for identification. Only traffic accidents had tested his threshold for keeping his stomach contents and he pondered what injuries Carmella may have suffered and how recent. Had she died today and her killer had no more use for her? His mind worked overtime in painting horrific images that turned his stomach and he fought hard to shake them off, knowing he had to approach the scene with no pre-set thoughts.

He showed his ID card to the officer keeping guard and signed the visiting sheet. There was a strong smell of moss and damp soil. The smell he had noticed just a few seconds ago was stronger now but he still couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He looked down into the pit and amongst the natural habitat was a white canvas tent that was protecting the body from the elements. Police tape created a temporary pathway which would have been searched thoroughly by the crime scene officers and the rest of the area left untouched. Reed made for the tent with the same enthusiasm as a child being led to the dentist. Despite the mass police presence, an eerie silence took over the deeper he descended and just the sound of cracking twigs and his own breathing accompanied him. 

As soon as he entered the little entrance of the tent he was greeted with the sight of a female foot- small, elegant and housed in a strappy high heeled shoe. The rest of the body was obscured by thick plants curling over it. Taking into account the description that had been given of the clothes Carmella had been wearing, he knew it was her.

Reed bent at the knees to get a small advantage. He wasn’t allowed to get right in there with her and didn’t much want to. She was laid flat on her back with her arms tucked neatly beside her. A thin layer of grime covered her skin and clothes. He walked to the opposite end so that he could see her face more clearly. She looked like she might be sleeping, not in the peaceful heavenly way that everyone imagines but in the gormless slacked jawed way that people really are in their sleep. Blood had dried to her head and matted her hair. Maybe the litter that surrounded her might hold some clues. Then Reed noticed something; the blood on her head went slightly to one direction. It defied gravity and ran upwards towards the sky, meaning her body must have been moved at some stage or at the very least turned over.

The murders Reed had dealt with before were the result of robberies, muggings or street fights which had escalated to something more than intended. They could be described as almost accidental killings. The only intentional murder he could recall working on was the case of Andrew Gate. Mr Gate had shot his wife after finding out she was having an affair. He called the police straight away after doing it and confessed all. Gate had a reason for his actions. Or had the reason just been more obvious?

Reed quickly gave himself a mental slap. There were sick and twisted people out there and just because he couldn’t rationalise the murder of a young girl, it didn’t mean that somebody else didn’t have what they believed to be a good reason. Some people had morals that wouldn’t allow them to throw rubbish from the car; here, someone had tossed a young girl’s body into this piss-stinking litter trap. 

“Hello Detective Inspector Reed. Nice to see you again, although, I will say not the best of circumstances. I hear you’re in charge of this one.” It was head pathologist, Doctor Michael Steed. Reed welcomed the strange little man’s interruption.

“Hello Mike. Yeah I’m in charge of this one. I didn’t see your car.”

“The car’s here, I’ve been here a while. You just weren’t looking. I saw you trying to put off coming up here, so I gave you a minute before offering my support. It’s not a pretty sight is it?” Michael Steed was no more than 5 foot 4. Reed guessed he was over sixty because of his white hair and professor beard. He spoke with a foghorn of a voice that held posh tones, and Reed always expected him to finish each sentence with “You stupid boy!” but this would have been totally out of place with his jolly character.

“Not pretty at all. I said I didn’t see your car; it doesn’t mean I didn’t know you were here.”

“Enlighten me, dear sir.” Steed said whilst he adjusted his tweed jacket.

Reed nodded towards the policeman standing with the clipboard of names, “You’ve been disturbing my crime scene.”

“Ah. This is why you are the detective and I am not. I got a sort of permission from the lovely DS Tyler; she didn’t think you would mind me taking a look-see.”

“And she would be correct. Find anything?”