Anna and her two detectives followed the walking trail and saw the scene of crime officers as soon as they entered the wood. There were five of them. They had already unpacked their equipment and were starting to do their job with grim-faced determination.
Anna knew that it wasn’t going to be easy for them. Crime scenes that were open to the elements were always more difficult to control and process. Contamination of evidence was inevitable and dead bodies usually fell prey to insects and animals. Much would depend on how long the woman had been here and that was for the pathologist to determine with any degree of accuracy.
The three detectives were greeted by a SOCO wearing a white paper suit. Anna had never met him before so she introduced herself and the others and then they all signed the crime scene log.
The officer pointed to a large cardboard box containing overalls, masks and shoe covers.
‘You’ll need to get suited up,’ he said. ‘And for your information another team will be here shortly. There’s a lot of ground to be covered and it’s pretty messy.’
Once they had the gear on they followed the officer into the wood along a narrow, uneven trail that looked as though it didn’t get used much.
‘So what have we got then?’ Anna asked him.
‘Female, probably in her early twenties,’ he said. ‘Looks as though she’s been stabbed in the throat and I very much doubt that she did it to herself. She’s also naked and there are no clothes or other belongings in the immediate vicinity of the body. And as yet no sign of a weapon or anything that can identify her.’
‘So was she dumped here or killed here?’
‘Almost certainly dumped. And whoever did it covered her with leaves and branches but didn’t try very hard to conceal her.’
‘Any thoughts on how long she’s been here?’
‘Well, that’s not my area of expertise but I would say a few days and nights at the most. There are residual signs of rigor but not much blistering and skin decay. And be warned, the creatures of the forest have been dining out on her.’
They had to clamber through a patch of wild shrubs to get to the body. It was lying face up and the sight of it drew sharp intakes of breath from Anna and her two colleagues. The woman’s skin was pale and bloated and the gaping hole in her throat was filled with foam, blood, maggots and flies.
Her eyes were closed but her lips were parted to reveal teeth that were smeared with dirt and dust. There were small bite and scratch marks on her breasts, stomach and thighs, and about a dozen ants had made themselves at home in her pubic thatch.
‘I’ve seen enough,’ Sweeny said suddenly as she put her hand over her mouth and hurriedly retreated to the trail.
Anna shook her head. ‘Can’t really blame her for that. This is pretty bad.’
‘Worst I’ve seen in a long time,’ Walker said. ‘The poor kid was in the prime of her life. It’s a fucking shame.’
Anna was still staring down at the body while trying to imagine what the woman had looked like before her life was cut short in such a brutal fashion.
She was slim with small breasts and quite tall at about five ten or eleven. Her hair was fair and shoulder-length. It framed a narrow face with high cheekbones and a sharply pointed nose.
‘First thing we did was remove the stuff that had been placed on top of her,’ the forensics officer said. ‘We want to take some more pictures and examine the ground around her before we turn her over and put up the tent. And I’m sure the pathologist will want to be present when we do that.’
Anna asked Walker to take some pictures on his phone while she took out her pad and made various notes, including a list of questions she wanted answers to.
Who was the victim? Had she been reported missing? Why was she dumped here on Barnes Common? Was she stripped to remove traces of DNA? How did the killer get her to this spot? Was it in a car or van? If so where had the vehicle been parked?
Anna looked around, soaking up the scene, and wondered how many people frequented this part of the common. The track snaked deeper into the wood. She would have to find out where it led and if there were any homes close by.
‘I’ve got enough photos,’ Walker said. ‘Shall we leave these guys to it and go and talk to the woman who found the body?’
Walker removed his white suit but Anna left hers on as they hurried back along the trail.
Sweeny was waiting for them next to the gate. She had also taken off the forensic suit and the navy blue blouse that clung to her plump frame was stained with sweat.
‘Are you all right?’ Anna asked her.
‘I am now,’ she said, looking embarrassed. ‘Sorry about that, ma’am. The sight of that poor girl just turned my stomach suddenly.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Anna said. ‘It happens to us all at some point. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to sights like that working with us.’
The woman who had discovered the body had been moved across the road and was sitting on a wooden bench situated next to the cemetery entrance. Her dog, a black and white Jack Russell, lay on the ground in front of her.
Joyce Connor was in her fifties with greying hair and soft features. Her face was gaunt and colourless, and her lips trembled as she spoke.
‘We don’t often come this way,’ she said. ‘We usually stick to the fields nearer my home on the other side of the wood. But I fancied a change and the sun was strong so I opted for the shade of the trees.
‘Sammy here was off his lead and he did what he always does and went nosing around in the bushes. When he started barking I went to see what he’d come across and that was when I saw the hand poking out from under the leaves.’
She explained that this part of the common attracted few dog walkers and other visitors.
‘It’s always so quiet here,’ she said. Then, in answer to a question from Walker, she confirmed that she had not approached the body or picked up anything from the ground around it.
‘I just grabbed Sammy and put his lead back on,’ she said. ‘Then I hurried away from there and called the police.’
Anna told her a patrol car would take her home where she would be asked to make a brief statement.
Anna then took Walker and Sweeny to one side and gave them instructions. She wanted Walker to arrange for a search team to descend on the wood first thing in the morning.
‘There’s no point doing it now since there are only a few hours of daylight left,’ she said.
She then told Sweeny to start working up a file containing information on the common and the land surrounding it.
‘You can download maps and images from Google,’ she said. ‘Let’s locate all the homes in the area along with access routes to this stretch of the common. And find out who’s responsible for managing it.’
Anna looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was already six-fifteen. Tom would soon be setting off from his flat to pick her up. She decided it was time to call him to break the news that she wouldn’t be going out to celebrate her birthday after all.
Tom was naturally disappointed but he knew it couldn’t be helped.
‘I’ll ring and cancel the reservation,’ he said. ‘Hopefully we can go another time.’
‘I probably won’t be home until very late,’ Anna said. ‘Or I might even end up working through the night.’
‘I’ll come over to your place anyway,’ he said, and she heard the disappointment in his voice. ‘At least that way when you eventually turn up I can give you your birthday present.’
After hanging up, Anna felt a frisson of guilt for not being more appreciative of Tom’s attempt to make her birthday special. And there was no question that she would rather be spending the next few hours in a cosy restaurant than at the scene of a grisly murder.
Anna was back up at the wood when the on-call pathologist arrived. She was pleased to see that it was Gayle Western. The pair had been friends for some years and had a lot in common. They were both divorced and wedded to their jobs. They were also the same height at just over five and a half feet, and they each had long dark hair that was usually pinned up.
Anna was actually a year younger than Gayle but she looked at least five years older thanks to the stress that had left its mark as lines around her eyes and mouth.
‘I see I’m the last to arrive as usual,’ Gayle said, a little breathless from dashing to the scene. ‘You can blame the traffic. I had to come from Mitcham and the roads are virtually gridlocked.’
Gayle had already donned her white suit and was carrying a small black case in each hand.
‘You and I have got to stop only meeting like this,’ Anna said. ‘Do you realise that it’s been four months since we last had a drink together?’
Gayle grinned. ‘And do you realise that we have this same conversation every time we turn up at the scene of a crime?’
It was Anna’s turn to smile. ‘Well, after this one is sorted we should make a point of arranging something.’
‘Most definitely. I’m keen to catch up on all your news, and I know there’s an awful lot of it. In the last couple of weeks it seems you’ve become the most high-profile copper in the Met.’
‘You always were prone to exaggeration, Gayle.’
‘Not this time, my friend. You were all over the media during the kidnap case, and I’ve read that article in the Evening Standard about your ex-husband. Wow. What happened to him must have shaken you to the core.’
Anna nodded. ‘You can say that again. But you’ll have to wait for me to fill you in on the gory details. Right now there’s a young lady over there who needs your full attention.’
Gayle got straight down to business. She walked over to the body, placed her cases on the ground, and then looked at what lay before her with a studied expression. After about thirty seconds she knelt down to examine the body and the area around it.
Anna looked on from a distance, knowing that Gayle did not like to be distracted during the initial assessment. As with all good forensic pathologists she was methodical in her approach and would never express an opinion or answer a question until she was good and ready.
Eventually, Gayle spoke without looking up.
‘Well, the level of decomposition and other factors relating to the state of the body suggest to me that this poor lass has been dead for three or four days. And there’s little doubt in my mind that the cause of death was a stab wound to the left side of the throat. It looks as though the blade probably severed a carotid artery and penetrated the trachea. I’ll know for sure when I carry out the post-mortem. Death would have been fairly quick and there would have been a lot of blood.’
‘It’s now Friday so we’re talking Tuesday or Wednesday,’ Anna said.
Gayle nodded. ‘My guess would be Tuesday or Tuesday night. It’s rained only once this week and that was on Wednesday morning. There are streaks on her flesh where it washed away the detritus that had accumulated. The body was clearly dumped here and that would have happened a short time after she was killed, probably a matter of hours. I reckon she was stripped to remove all trace evidence. And it’s likely she was wrapped in a blanket or plastic sheeting while being transported here.’
A cold chill crept over Anna’s shoulders and down her neck. As always she found it a struggle to remain emotionally detached from the distressing sight that she was being forced to bear witness to.
‘Is there any evidence of defence wounds?’ she asked.
‘None that I can see,’ Gayle said. ‘But I’ll know for sure after she’s cleaned up.’
‘What about signs of sexual assault?’
‘Nothing that’s obvious. There’s definitely no bruising on her inner thighs which is usually a tell-tale sign.’
As Anna made notes, Gayle asked a forensics officer to help her turn the body over. As they did so Anna saw that the flattened undergrowth beneath it was swarming with insects.
‘She’s got a tattoo,’ Gayle said, and Anna had to step forward and lean over to see it.
The tattoo was at the top of her back between her shoulder blades. It was a simple three-word design in sinuous Gothic script.
BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
‘Hopefully that will help you to identify her,’ Gayle said.
Anna took a photo of the tattoo with her phone. She then attached it to a text that she sent back to headquarters.
Gayle drew her attention to the fact that the dead woman was wearing a silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand.
‘That looks like an expensive piece of bling to me,’ she said as Anna photographed it. ‘You’ll notice also that her nails are painted and her teeth are in good shape. She seems well nourished and there are no needle marks on her arms. So I don’t think she was a homeless person or a druggy.’
Anna looked up as a plane roared overhead, probably on its way to Heathrow airport. She also noticed that the light was fading from the sky. At the same time forensics officers were preparing for nightfall by setting up portable lamps.
Anna knew that the search for clues, even in this small section of the wood, was going to be long and laborious. The person or persons who had left the victim here would have taken care to clear their tracks. And any evidence that had been left behind had probably been contaminated or destroyed by the weather and wildlife.
There was no point her hanging around so she decided to leave the scene to the experts. Gayle told her she would arrange for the body to be removed and said she’d phone if she discovered anything significant.
‘I’ll give the post-mortem priority,’ Gayle added. ‘That means I should have her on the table by late tomorrow morning.’
‘Terrific,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll try to make a point of being there.’
Back at the roadside, Walker informed her that he’d arranged for the road to be closed at either end for the rest of the night. And Sweeny told her that she’d found out the common was owned by the Dean and Chapter of St Paul’s Cathedral.
‘It’s managed by the London Borough of Richmond-upon-Thames,’ she said. ‘An official is on his way here to open the gate so we can move vehicles onto the field.’
Anna looked out across the common, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the sun vanished below the horizon. But it was still warm and she could feel a tear of sweat trickling down her back.
She was about to fill Walker and Sweeny in on what Gayle had told her when her phone rang. She looked at the screen. It was DC Fellows, calling from headquarters with some unexpected news.
‘We’ve got a probable ID on the victim, ma’am,’ he said. ‘And I guarantee you’re not going to like it.’
For the second time in as many days Sophie Cameron had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.
She’d felt it yesterday when she strolled from her flat to the mini-mart on the corner. By the time she got there the familiar tingling sensation in her neck had spread through her body.
Now, as she walked briskly along Shoreditch High Street, she felt it again. But just as before it didn’t appear as though she had seized the attention of any of her fellow pedestrians.
She kept stopping to look back along the street and across the road. There were quite a few dubious-looking characters, both men and women, but none of them seemed interested in her.
That didn’t mean she was imagining it, though. She knew from bitter experience that her instincts were sometimes spot on, especially when it came to Him.
He had managed to track her down twice before, so had he done it again? Had he somehow located her in a city of nearly nine million people?
The only person who knew that she was living and working in this part of East London was Lisa. And there was no way her best friend would ever tell anyone. Besides, even Lisa didn’t know her address or where exactly she worked. And whenever they met for a drink, which was about once a month, Lisa always took care to make sure she was never followed.
Sophie stopped again to look behind her, but it was so sudden that a large woman clutching a carrier bag bumped into her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Sophie said. ‘I didn’t mean …’
‘You should be more careful,’ the woman snapped. ‘In case you haven’t noticed you’re not the only person on the pavement.’
The woman pushed past her and hurried on ahead, one of hundreds of people on the High Street who were anxious to get wherever they were going.
It was the tail-end of the evening rush hour so the main artery through Shoreditch was at its busiest. As Sophie scanned the unfamiliar faces of those who swept past her, she was forced to concede that even if she was being watched or followed, she probably wouldn’t be able to spot her stalker.
She just had to hope that it was indeed all in her mind, an unfounded bout of paranoia fuelled yet again by the fear that she hadn’t seen the last of the demon from her past.
She needed a distraction so she fumbled in her handbag for her phone and earplugs. Then she started listening to her favourite Ed Sheeran tracks as she set off again. It was still only six-forty-five so at least she wasn’t going to be late.
The dental clinic was around the next corner. On Thursday evenings she did the cleaning after the place closed for business. It was one of several private jobs she did to supplement the income from the company that employed her on a part-time basis. The clinic paid her £30 to clean the floors, polish all the surfaces and wipe the insides of the windows. It was easy money and came in handy.
The clinic had already been closed for half an hour by the time Sophie got there. But as usual Claudia Myers, the young manager, was only just preparing to leave.
‘Hi there, Miss Cameron,’ she said with her usual bright smile. ‘How are you today?’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Claudia.’
At twenty-three, Claudia was half Sophie’s age but twice her size. The girl blamed her obesity on the fact that she had type 2 diabetes. But if it bothered her she never showed it and she always struck Sophie as one of the happiest people she had ever come across.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Claudia asked, a frown tugging her eyebrows together. ‘You look flustered.’
Sophie shrugged. ‘That’s because it’s still pretty warm out there and I’ve been walking fast.’
Actually the truth is I’ve got myself in a state because I think someone has been following me.
‘Well, you’ll be glad to know that we finished earlier than usual today,’ Claudia said. ‘So I’ve done quite a bit of tidying up myself. I even managed to go round with the hoover so you only need to mop the floors.’
‘You shouldn’t have,’ Sophie said. ‘That’s what you pay me for.’
‘I know, but I had to hang around because I’m meeting a friend in the pub across the road. It gave me something to do. And speaking of pay, I’ve left your money in the usual place.’
Claudia picked up her shoulder bag and headed for the door. But before stepping outside, she turned back to Sophie and said, ‘By the way, how is that girl of yours? You told me last week that she wasn’t very well.’
‘Oh, she’s absolutely fine,’ Sophie said. ‘It was just a tummy bug and it only lasted a few days. I’ve left her at home watching one of the latest teen movies.’
‘Well, be sure to give her my regards.’
‘I will.’
After Claudia had gone, Sophie set to work. She went to the utility cupboard and took out what she needed. It wasn’t a big clinic. There were two treatment rooms, a small office, a unisex toilet, a waiting room and a carpeted reception area.
It took Sophie an hour to get through it and she finished up back in reception where she sat on the leather sofa to drink a glass of water from the cooler.
A bunch of magazines and a copy of the Evening Standard were spread haphazardly across the coffee table in front of her. It looked untidy so Sophie put the magazines in a neat pile and checked the date on the newspaper. It was a day old so she picked it up to put in the bin with the other rubbish she’d collected.
But as she did so the paper fell open at a page dominated by three large photographs of a man, a woman and a toddler in a high chair. It was the photo of the man that jumped out at her.
‘Oh, dear God, it can’t be,’ Sophie gasped out loud.
But a moment later, after checking the caption beneath the photo, the cold reality of what she was looking at caused a wave of panic to wash over her. And even before she began to read the words on the page, she knew that her life was about to implode yet again.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.