Page 24 of The Unforgiven

“Within a predictable radius for a marauder profile, if we’re looking at geographical profiling. I read those books you left for me.” There was humour in his voice. “So did Pam. I think she enjoyed them more than me.”

“Good, but remember this is a built-up area, so that range can shorten. I do think we need to really focus on the location. See what we can dig up on someone checking out the area, because they would’ve had to have known they’d be undisturbed and - ”

Dr Miz chose that point to reappear. “Okay, here are the headlines. Rigor mortis is fully fixed across all joints, consistent with twelve to twenty-four hours post-mortem in a cold aquatic environment, such as the one we’re stood besides, obviously. I’d guess she’s been in there since yesterday evening. This is different than your first; she hasn’t had time to break down in the same way. There are multiple stab wounds to her back, so whether she drowned because she ended up face down in water or she died because of the injuries inflicted from the knife, I can’t say yet.” She suddenly fell silent, her stare going straight over my shoulder.

I turned around and saw Vinny, who was keeping a safe distance. Best to ignore him and hope Dr Miz did too. One body in the river was enough for today.

“How are you getting her out? I’m assuming it is a female.” Wrigley was watching what was happening down at the bank of the river.

“I haven’t checked properly yet, but I’d say that’s accurate. We’ll slide a body board underneath her and lift her out, making sure nothing bursts. The temperature of the water will have helped – it’ll preserve the rigor for longer. I’ll start the post mortem at six if you want to send a couple of officers down.” She looked down at the officers about to recover the body, dressed in drysuits and holding throw lines. “Don’t rush it,” she shoutedto them. “Take your time because we don’t want any accidents.” There was a pause while she found Vinny with her gaze. “I think I gave you similar advice.”

Vinny looked away from her. “Sir, I think we might’ve found where the body went in the water. I’ve got officers widening the cordon.”

“Good lad, let’s take a look.” Wrigley gestured for me to follow and we left CSI and Dr Miz to recover the body. CSI would be there until dusk, recovering what they could from the site. A couple of officers would stay, keeping an eye out for anyone with a gory wish to see the place where the body had been found, or if the perp themselves took a trip back to revisit their handiwork.

Stranger things happened.

We walked along the path that ran parallel to the river as it took an incline, creating more space between it and the water. Vinny came to a stop after about five minutes and pointed a few metres ahead where a CSI was already taking photos.

“I think she went in here. Look.” He pointed to flattened grass that was the introduction to a strip of land with broken branches and skidded soil, evident even though there had been a lot of rain overnight.

Wrigley nodded. “Aye, lad. I think you could be right. Let’s get this covered and preserve whatever we can, eh? This could be a bit of a break.” He instructed Vinny to crack on with securing the scene, and me to co-ordinate officers to search the area, looking for any CCTV or inhabited buildings.

“Do you still think this is the same person?” I asked Wrigley as we headed back to where the body was being recovered.

He shrugged. “I think it’s likely. Looks like this one was stabbed from behind.”

“So she went into the water, and trace evidence was lost. Again. This is someone who’s smart. I don’t think it was opportunistic – I think this was planned.”

“Which suggests a connection between the victims, although I’ll feel happier once we can discount the boyfriend.” He briefly paused before we got to the melee of people, the CSI techs now bringing the body up onto the path. “I want you and Nick to go to the postmortem. I know you did the last, you might find a connection others won’t.”

“A fresh pair of eyes might see something I’d miss.” We were both laughing.

“Nice try, Mia Mac, nice try. I’ll see you back at the office about eight. It’ll be a late one tonight, I think, so if you’ve got a date planned, you might want to give him notice.” He patted my arm and started to pass on more orders, co-ordinating like he’d done a hundred times before.

I watched as the body of our new victim was moved along the path, the crime scene assistants moving carefully but competently. A drone whirred above us, one of the techs controlling it to get an aerial view of where the body had been. People moved like ants, everyone with their purpose, a team that was well-oiled and efficient. What Wrigley’s team did was only the tip of the iceberg; there were the forensics team checking water samples, soil samples, looking at the weather over the last twenty-four hours, the river flow, the temperature. They never received any of the glory when we cracked a case; it was only when a true crime show focused on a case that people realised just what went into it.

Maybe I should’ve done my research better before I chose this as a career or maybe given what my father did for a living, I was never going to have the choice.

Chapter Eleven

It’d been dark for a couple of hours by the time Nick and I made it back to the base, loaded with notes from the post-mortem and ten pizzas we’d been instructed to pick up on our way back, pre-ordered and paid for by the boss.

The office was packed, the murder board now doubled in size. More space would now be needed, because we had an identity for our second victim, her designer handbag found when the CSIs did a thorough search through the reeds after the body had been recovered.

Brooke O’Hara was the name on the expired provision driving licence. The address was her parents’ house in Offerton, although Brooke had moved out some years ago, never bothering to take driving lessons or change the address. I suspected it had been used as photo ID for getting served in pubs and bars when she’d been younger, that was what I’d initially used mine for.

Pizza was stuffed in hungry mouths, apart from mine, because watching Dr Miz at work had eroded any appetite I’d had. Instead, I downed a pint of water, regretting it whenWrigley drew everyone’s attention and there was no chance of getting to the bathroom before I’d need to speak.

“It’s update central, then you can go home and get some sleep. We’re back at seven in the morning and leave is cancelled. Headlines – we don’t know these cases are related for certain, but things are pointing that way, although we have loose ends that need cutting off sharpish.” Wrigley gave the bullet points: we still hadn’t confirmed Neil Hunt’s alibi - he was refusing to name her despite his solicitor’s advice; the Kinsella loan sharks were deep underwater and hadn’t yet been found, our counterparts in Liverpool were still trying to locate them; the media was an arse and we needed to watch who was listening into our conversations, which he didn’t need to say, but did anyway. “Mia, Nick – what’ve you learned at science school?”

“Brooke O’Hara was twenty-eight, in good health, had dental implants, filler, Botox, and a boob job. Even if we hadn’t been able to identify her from what was found in the water, we’d have done it from her surgery. Dr Miz is pretty confident she’d been in the water for about eighteen hours, placing time of death around seven-thirty pm, Sunday evening, which puts Neil Hunt in the clear, as he was in a pub in Newcastle with his boss at that time. Brooke was fully clothed. There was no sign of her clothing being tampered with and no signs of sexual assault. She would’ve had her back to the killer when she was stabbed to her upper thoracic spine.” I turned around and reached so I could point it out roughly on my own back. Nick assisted, which made it a little easier. “The blade entered between the third and fourth vertebrae. It penetrated the lung tissue and severed her right pulmonary artery. She was then stabbed an additional four times to the upper and mid back region on the right-hand side. She was dead before she went into the water.” I didn’t need to make the connections, they were obvious.

As were the differences.

Vinny had started to write on one of the boards we had hanging around the office, creating a grid, writing the victims’ names, then characteristics of the murders.

“Both died of a stab wound, both suggest that the perp in both cases has a decent idea of anatomy and where to strike. In both cases, enough force is used for the first strike to be fatal. That takes a lot of strength. Chelsea was five foot five; Brooke’s an inch taller. If the site we’ve identified as the spot where Brooke went in the river, the killer could’ve been on a slight incline when they stabbed Brooke. We know from Chelsea that her killer was likely to have been taller than her due to the angle of wounds.” He stood back, reminding me of a teacher at school that lots of the girls, and some of the boys, had a crush on.