Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(104)

‘I figured you’d start work this evening, and I’d be grateful if you’d let me help. I know there’s going to be a fair amount of pure wrecking-ball stuff and I’m your man.’

‘Come in.’

Sandford didn’t want to seem too grateful for the help. He knew it was Carter’s way of saying he was sorry for the enormous amount of work he had lumped on Sandford’s shoulders. Offering to break up a few tiles and coming armed with beer didn’t really make up for it, but then Carter produced a nice bottle of cold Chablis that had cost him thirty pounds from the sour-faced barman, and Sandford warmed to him.

‘Okay, where shall we start?’ Carter said as he donned a forensic suit and booties and stood on the other side of the bathroom door waiting for orders. He handed Sandford a glass of cold white wine and it was accepted. He took one good-sized glug then set it aside as he made up a fresh solution of Luminol and sprayed liberally around the bathroom floor and walls. They turned the lights down and Carter watched while Sandford shone his light around.

‘There’s a small amount on the walls, a spray, could have come from the toilet area.’ Sandford knelt down to examine the feet of the bath. ‘There’s definitely blood between the detail on these feet and the nearer you get to the floor the stronger the smell of bleach.’

‘It’s not normal to clean tiles with bleach.’

Sandford picked at the grouting between the tiles and shone his torch into the scraped-out groove. ‘We’re going to have to get these tiles up after all.’

Carter grabbed a pickaxe.

‘Not with that. We chisel in between the grouting on the floor tiles and we do it systematically. We start at the furthest corner and work our way backwards. You’re on the left, I’m right.’

It took them two hours until they’d finished getting all the floor tiles up and neatly stacked on the landing outside the bathroom.

‘Okay, here we go.’ Sandford shone his torch into the plastic layer that housed the heated-floor system. They stood in the semi-darkness and watched the light trace the outline of a rectangular area, the outsides of which allowed blood to seep through, and it pooled onto the plastic.

‘You want to record this for posterity?’ Sandford handed Carter the video camera for low light and Carter scanned slowly around the room as Sandford continued to spray and uncover new areas of blood saturation.

‘My thoughts,’ said Sandford, ‘are that someone started to try and cut up a body in the bath but couldn’t do it, so they dragged it into the middle of this floor and began the dissection. Here we can see the major bleed-out. There are those minor blood splatters around the walls, which might indicate a small power tool was used. The section where the body lay would indicate this was a person of about five feet tall. This blood has been here for about six weeks.’

Raymonds got into the black Honda Jazz at five in the morning and drove along the road to the layby opposite the path down to Garra Cove. He unlatched the gate and walked a few strides in before pulling out the bags from where he’d hidden them in the hedge that met the road. He was seething with anger. The thought of Towan driving his car had kept him awake most of the night. Towan had gone too far. He’d made a fatal error in not doing as he was commanded. Now Raymonds had to take matters into his own hands. He crossed the road and put the Surfshack bags into his boot, then he drove towards Stokes’ farm.

Marky couldn’t sleep. He tried so hard, but the last few days he’d increased his cocaine up to a gram a day. The less he slept, the more he took, until he was beyond exhausted. His body felt as weak as a baby’s, but his mind was racing at a million miles an hour and he couldn’t close his eyes for more than a few seconds. He decided to get up and go in his workshop.

Raymonds caught Marky as he was coming out of the cottage. Marky froze in the doorway when he saw his father. It was too dark to make out Raymonds’ expression but he was rigid with anger.

‘We’ll walk and talk,’ he said to Marky as they moved along the lane. ‘Who’s in the house?’

‘Mawgan, Kensa and Cam are in there. The forensic guys have gone.’

‘We’ll stay away from the house, then. I don’t want them to hear what I’ve got to say to you. Did they look in your workshop?’ Raymonds opened the gate to the paddock on his right.

‘What for?’ They climbed over the gate towards the pig field. ‘They won’t find anything in there.’ He looked across to gauge his father’s meaning. ‘I told Jago to get rid of it, like you said,’ he lied.

‘You told Jago? So you’re the boss of this little drug-peddling outfit, are you? You’re the one dishing out the orders?’

‘No. I didn’t say that.’

‘Jago can run rings around you, boy. Jago looks on you as thick as one of these pigs here. Thick as shit.’ Marky didn’t answer. ‘Well, I’ve found your stash and I’ve got it in my car and I intend to dump it in the sea.’

‘We can’t do that, Dad.’

‘We can’t?’

‘Please. We owe a lot of money. I made a big mistake, I admit it. I got the drugs on account. If I don’t sell the drugs, I’m screwed. I’m as good as dead. Don’t do this to me, Dad. I promise you, I’ll straighten out. This is the last mess, I promise. Dad, I will make it up to you, please help me.’