No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(12)

‘You have to go to the station,’ Lottie told Gilbey. ‘It’s a formality. Nothing to worry about.’ She instructed Kirby to take the two men with him.

Lynch said, ‘What do you want me to do, boss?’

‘Make yourself useful. Help uniforms with the cordon at the front gate.’

As Lynch stomped off up the hill, a silver station wagon rumbled down the slope, slowed and stopped. The driver leaned out of the window.

‘Well, if it isn’t Inspector Morse and Sergeant Lewis. Disrupting my morning as usual.’

‘Jesus, McGlynn. I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’ Lottie smirked. She’d only ever seen the head of the SOCO team in his white protective gear, hood up and mask in place. Two green eyes. That was all she knew about him. Now she could put a face to the ensemble. His craggy features told her he was aged about sixty. And he was in a foul humour, though that was nothing new.

‘I’d recognise you in a blackout,’ he said, mouth downturned. ‘What have you dug up for me this time?’

‘Not exactly dug up, though if it wasn’t for a bad case of curiosity, I think she would have been interred forever.’

‘And you know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you?’ McGlynn let the window back up and continued down to the scene.

‘Contrary arse,’ Lottie said.



* * *



Within fifteen minutes, McGlynn had his team in place. They lowered a ladder into the grave, and he climbed to the bottom and stood to one side as pebbles and clay cascaded around him.

‘A thin layer of clay and dirt,’ he said, hunching down. He used a short-handled, long-bristled brush to carefully sweep it away, working slowly, until a foot emerged from the blackness. Toes painted in a fluorescent pink varnish. The chalky flesh looked paper thin. Brushing away the clay on the opposite side, McGlynn leaned backwards as another foot appeared.

‘Can you move up to the area where a head should be?’ Lottie was impatient to find out the identity of the buried person.

McGlynn continued his methodical work without reply. As he uncovered the leg, Lottie saw that it was broken, the bone sticking out.

‘Tibia open shaft fracture is my initial observation,’ McGlynn said. ‘Broken through the skin. That’s the shin bone. Signs of maggots. No flies. Not been down here long. It’s been cold, with no rain, so a day, maybe two at the most.’

Lottie knelt down on the protective covering at the edge of the hole and leaned over further, praying for him to hurry up.

A second leg appeared, and as more of the body was revealed, it became evident that it was definitely a female, and that she was naked.

‘No other visible wounds so far,’ he muttered.

Eventually the face and hair appeared, and Lottie drew in a breath. McGlynn glanced up, emeralds dancing above the white mask. ‘You see what I see, Inspector?’

‘She was suffocated with the clay?’

‘Even though the layer is thin, I don’t think she covered herself with it. Inform the state pathologist that she is needed here.’

‘I’ve already phoned her,’ Boyd said. ‘She should be here soon.’

Lottie stared down at the victim’s mouth, full of clay, and the dirt-encrusted auburn hair.

‘Who was the last person you saw?’ she asked the lifeless body of Elizabeth Byrne.





Ten





Lottie left Jane Dore, the state pathologist, with McGlynn to confirm what she already knew. They were dealing with a suspicious death. She sent Lynch to find Bridie McWard so that she could be questioned again, then she and Boyd went back to the station to set up an incident team and to interview the cemetery workers.

Superintendent Corrigan was marching around the incident room when she arrived.

‘You found your missing woman?’

‘I believe so, sir, but we need to make a positive ID.’

‘Did you inform her mother?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Do it soon, before the media blast it all over Twitter.’

‘I intend to.’

‘I need to talk to you,’ Corrigan said.

Lottie followed him down the corridor and into his office.

‘Sit down,’ he said, and squeezed in behind his desk.

‘Do you want an update, sir? I’ll have a full report for a team meeting in the morning.’

‘No, I won’t be here then, so I’ll have to leave it in your hands. In McMahon’s hands, I should say. I want to tell you something.’

Oh Lord, Lottie thought. He’s going to tell me he’s dying and I’ll be stuck with McMahon for the rest of my working days. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Elizabeth Byrne. She was last seen on the train. Correct?’

‘As far as we know. We only have her mother’s word that she didn’t arrive home.’

‘It reminds me of a case I worked ten years ago. In fact, the anniversary is this week. I don’t know why I’m even mentioning it, but the train bit – that’s what jogged my memory. The difference then was that the young woman was never found. And now I’m wondering, could she have been buried in a grave that was awaiting a coffin?’

‘Back up a bit.’ Lottie tried to compute what Corrigan was saying but couldn’t work it out. ‘What woman?’