AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER
28
A WOMAN. A WOMAN is dead. A patrol car is summoned and they charge toward the location. Nearly an hour’s drive from the nick: a playing field, to the edge of a residential area. Body found at ten past eight. But who? And how was she killed? Adam feels panic rising. He demands details and information that nobody is able to give.
Ellie Quinn sits in the back seat, DC Tim Lee next to her. They’re silent, waiting for orders and confirmation, and Adam misses Jamie, his second-in-command, always knowing what action to take before he is told. He thinks of him waiting for news and says a silent prayer in his head. Please can it not be her. But if not Pippa, who?
Even given their delay, they’re still one of the first people there. They stop at the edge of the park behind the ambulance, Adam running fast toward the group on the far side, the lights, the flashlights, the reflective yellow on the uniforms signaling the tragedy unfolding.
A paramedic stands to one side, bent in two, hands resting on his knees. A uniform guards a heap on the ground; another is talking to a couple, hands waving frantically, furtive glances back to the lump.
They approach the PC.
“DCI Bishop,” Adam says. “Let me see.”
The uniform moves to the side and points to the body with his flashlight. It’s a woman, young. Her eyes are staring, her mouth gaping in a scream that nobody heard. Adam struggles to gather any recognition from this shape: in life Pippa was so much more than this. Always animated, with a smile beaming on her face.
But then he realizes: this isn’t her. This woman has brown hair; Pippa’s is blonde. They aren’t the slightest bit similar. The flash of relief is quickly replaced by sorrow and guilt. This is not Jamie’s wife, but she may have been someone else’s. And she is dead.
“999 call at quarter past eight,” the uniform continues. “Said they found a body. That couple there. Control tried to direct them to do CPR, but they said there was no point. No chest to compress.”
Adam takes the flashlight from the PC and shines it onto the corpse. She’s lying on her back, legs folded under her, head at a strange angle. He runs the beam down to the torso. Light reflects back: blood. And lots of it.
The whole chest is open. It’s a mass of gore, bones, and organs. Ripped, brutally torn.
“Has anyone touched the body?” Adam asks.
“No. Ambulance turned up, but the paramedics didn’t go near.” The PC points to the man in green, still bent over. “That guy threw up, the other one’s back in the ambulance. We arrived moments after them. I remembered the gossip from the station about the bodies you found Saturday night. Got Control to call the nick.”
“Good shout,” Adam confirms. He turns to Quinn. Ellie’s standing, one hand over her mouth, eyes fixed on the corpse. “Ellie, get whoever you can in. We need a bigger team. House-to-house, CCTV, usual inquiries. Call SOCO and the pathologist. Quinn?”
She looks up, her face pale. She blinks as if she hasn’t heard a word Adam has said. He feels for her, he does; this might be the first violent murder she’s seen. He regrets bringing her now, but he hasn’t got time for her delicate sensibilities.
“DC Quinn? You okay? Do you need a minute?”
“No, Boss. I’m fine.” She shakes her head, trying to rouse herself. “Will do.”
Adam turns back to the PC. “Can you help DC Lee with the cordon? Block off this whole area. All entrances to the park, all footpaths. I don’t want anyone coming in or out of here.”
Ellie starts to leave, then looks back.
“I didn’t think …” she starts. She shakes her head again. “I didn’t think it would feel so bizarre.”
She trudges away, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she goes. Adam knows what she means. The level of violence here doesn’t feel real: that someone could do this to another human being—again—and there not be repercussions for that person’s psyche. It must be taking its toll on the killer. They can’t be blending into the background. Someone must know something.
Dimly he hears Quinn on the radio, calling the details back to Control. Confirming their location and the request for resource. He hears what she’s saying, but the words take a moment to register.
Adam runs the flashlight up to the victim’s face. The light bounces from her open eyes, showing her gaping mouth.
Quinn repeats her request. “Whoever you can spare. Yes, to the Common on Monk’s Hill. PO10 …” She turns to the PC next to her. “What’s the rest of the postcode?”
PO10. Adam raises the flashlight higher. Considering, for the first time, what’s been marked on her forehead. Deep cuts, inflicted with rage and hatred, blood glistening in the darkness.
The number ten. Two digits brutally slashed into the victim’s skin.
CHAPTER
29
