Nothing but Meat: A dark, heart-stopping British crime thriller Read online

  ‘Just missed it, I take it I’m here because of what’s on the news?’

  ‘How much do you know?’

  ‘The bare bones, which is basically no more than the average Sky or Radio Two reporter.’

  A knock on the door interrupted them and Jackson shouted for the person to enter.

  Simone turned as West entered.

  ‘Inspector West tells me you know each other,’ said Jackson as West took the seat next to her.

  She cleared her throat. ‘We do.’

  ‘He thinks his time will be used more efficiently if a local officer with greater knowledge of the area accompanies him while he provides assistance during the investigation of this case. And I agree with him.’

  She nodded. ‘Okay.’

  ‘DI West has requested that officer be you Connelly. I’d rather see a more senior officer in the role, and one that isn’t in obvious pain but I believe you’re up to the task.’

  ‘I appreciate the opportunity sir.’

  ‘Bishop’s Thorpe Wood. Get going Connelly, West has been fully briefed and will update you on the way.’

  They walked out into the blazing sun and Simone followed him across the car park. West singled out his car, and walked straight to the passenger side, he tossed his keys to her over the roof of his silver Mondeo and she snatched them from the air and they got in.

  As she reversed she said, ‘You know your way around this area.’

  ‘I’m rusty at best, and besides I thought I’d help raise your profile,’ he said and as he spoke he pulled something from his inside jacket pocket. Simone saw it was a brass lighter, and realised it was a Zippo just like the one he used to own.

  West was right; being involved in a case like this could really help her career prospects but she couldn’t help thinking -

  hoping

  - that he had an ulterior motive and wanted to spend time with her but she doubted that was the case, as far as he was concerned she was happily married and he was just using his position to give her career a boost by giving her the opportunity to be involved in a high profile murder investigation.

  She drove in silence while West looked out of the window, preoccupied and deep in thought he idly caressed the smooth metallic casing of the lighter, occasionally flicking the lid open with his thumb and snapping it shut with the palm of his other hand. The sound was distinctive and it took her back to her youth.

  Click, ting, snap.

  It wasn’t an annoying sound; in fact Simone found it reassuring.

  Click, ting, snap.

  She glanced across at him and said, ‘Do you still smoke?’

  ‘Quit years ago.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘You still keep a lighter though?’

  ‘Just a habit; it keeps my hands occupied and helps me think.’

  ‘It reminds me of before.’

  ‘The more things change…’ he said and flicked the lid of the lighter again.

  Click, ting, snap.

  ‘…the more they stay the same. I suppose I’d better tell you what to expect when we get there.

  4

  West’s Ford crunched to a stop on the gravel of the small parking area at the edge of the wood. They climbed out of the air-conditioned car and into the oppressive heat of the afternoon and Simone felt her shirt immediately cling to her back as they walked towards the police officer on duty.

  Simone spotted a nearby information board and large colourful map for dog walkers and bird watchers and studied it while West produced his ID and spoke to the officer. She read that Bishop’s Thorpe Wood was over a thousand years old and was a protected conservation site with ancient species of tree. At over three hundred acres and with a diameter of over forty miles it was so big and dense a series of colour-coded tracks had been marked throughout the woods in an attempt to prevent even the most seasoned walker from getting lost.

  The officer pointed them in the direction of the yellow route and they set off, trudging over dry vegetation, pine needles, leaves and the gnarled roots of towering trees. The track ahead of them twisted and turned and although the route they followed could be identified by the plastic yellow markers that had been tied around alternate tree trunks Simone realised how easy it would be to get lost. One wrong turn and anyone could be missing for days.

  They passed two more police officers as they continued into the seemingly impenetrable wood and although it was cooler in the shade of the trees, the officers that aided their direction looked sweltering hot in their uniforms. Simone had done her share of sentry duty and knew how they felt.

  It was heavy going once they had abandoned the trail and Simone wondered how anyone could find their way here, surely it would be close to impossible without good knowledge of the routes. West went ahead of Simone, pushing branches away and made sure they didn’t fly back into her face as they pressed ahead.

  They eventually came across another officer who was leaning against a tree and quickly straightened herself up when she saw West and Simone fighting their way through the thicket. Simone knew the officer and nodded an acknowledgement when they flashed their badges and lifted the blue and white tape that cordoned the perimeter of the crime scene.

  West had told Simone the details of the murder in the car and her heart was pounding at the frightening anticipation of what she was about to see. She knew it would be grizzly but nothing could have really prepared her for what was waiting for them when they entered the clearing.

  Uniformed police protected the perimeter of the crime scene, while various specialists went about their work collecting evidence and taking photographs. West and Simone moved into the small natural clearing and could see the death immediately.

  They approached what from a distance looked like a piece of meat hanging from one of the trees but Simone already knew what it was; a face; stretched out and nailed to the trunk with crude buckled nails and beneath it rested the naked mannequin of a corpse.

  Simone had seen and dealt with some nasty things in the line of duty; car accidents, dead children, stab victims, a week old corpse in a bathtub, but this was so hideous and calculated the other horrors faded into insignificance and she struggled to resist the temptation to put her hand over her mouth as they walked into the centre of the clearing and surveyed the scene.

  The corpse was female, and for the most part her skin was black with dried blood but where it was clean it was alabaster white in contrast. She was on her back, laid out at the bottom of the tree with her head against the trunk, her legs straight and her arms neatly by her sides. On pale flesh flies crawled in the afternoon heat, crusts of red and black were all that remained of her face, and her lidless, blooded eyes stared blankly into the canopy of leaves above.

  Two Scene of Crime officers were examining the face and West initiated introductions. When the two SOCO’s introduced themselves as Dan and Ollie Simone nearly burst out laughing; their names were so close to the forenames of the comic duo Laurel and Hardy and her mind was so begrimed from the scene before her, an uncontrollable bout of hysteria nearly possessed her, as if her soul needed a way of cleansing the negative emotions that where choking every atom of her being. She held it back and couldn’t help but feel disgusted with herself.

  ‘First impressions?’ said West.

  Dan took the lead and pointed to the edge of the flesh with his pen.

  ‘The cuts are ragged and tattered,’ he said. ‘Whoever did it is lucky he got the face off in one piece, it would have been difficult to remove without razor sharp surgical equipment; the skin would be bloody and slippery and difficult to get hold of.’

  ‘What did he use to cut it away?’ Simone asked, now fully in control of her faculties and at one with the sobering scene.

  ‘A knife, the blade would have to be sharp but he didn’t use a scalpel, that’s for sure. Look here, he’s just hacked away at the flesh.’ He pointed at a particularly tattered piece that hung limply and curled away from the bark of the tree. ‘It’s possible that two
different blades were used but I can’t tell for sure until we get her back to the lab.’

  ‘Maybe he needed to be quick,’ Simone suggested.

  ‘No, he wasn’t rushed,’ said West. ‘He had time to dispose of her just how he wanted. She wasn’t just dumped here beneath a random tree; she’s been laid out with purpose. This is how he wanted it, how he imagined it. Hell, he even brought his hammer and nails.’

  West took a step forward to inspect the face more closely and Simone followed he gaze, the edges of the flesh were dark and curled, the lips, nose and eyelids intact, the eyelashes too; they added a surreal element to the already macabre scene. ‘If her face was removed quickly and without care it was because he wanted to see her without skin,’ he said, ‘and if he lost control at any point, he lost it when he was taking her face.’

  Simone addressed the SOCO’s, ‘Was she killed here?’

  ‘No, there’s not enough blood,’ said Ollie. ‘When we finish up in this area we’ll spread out to see if we can find where she was killed.’

  ‘He knows the woods,’ said West, more to himself than anyone else.

  ‘Who found her?’ asked Simone. ‘This area is well off the designated track.’

  ‘Dog walker,’ said Dan. ‘Says his mutt went mental and ran off, he followed it and found this.’

  West sighed and said, ‘Jesus fucking Christ, can you believe this?’

  5

  ‘Where to?’ said Simone.

  ‘I want to see the dog walker,’ said West. Simone nodded and made a call to get the information she needed.

  They rang the doorbell and a middle-aged woman answered, took one look at West’s ID and said, ‘Oh. You’d better come in.’

  ‘Is your husband home Mrs James?’ West asked as they entered the house.

  ‘Call me June. Rupert is in the garden; I’ll let him know you’re here.’ She showed them into the lounge. ‘Would you like anything to drink?’

  ‘Some water would be lovely.’

  ‘Okay, Rupert will be through in a minute.’

  Mrs James went to get her husband and as they waited a black Labrador came bounding into the room, its big pink tongue lolled out of one side of its drooling mouth, it frantically sniffed both West and Simone in turn and then bounded out again when a man’s voice called it away. ‘Chester, come here boy.’ A few seconds later a middle aged man with a potbelly and thinning hair entered the room, he had a pink face and he dabbed sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

  ‘Mr James?’

  ‘Yes. Hello.’

  West made the introductions and commented on the temperature of the afternoon.

  ‘I was just doing a bit of gardening, trying to go back to normal, you know? I thought keeping busy would help get this morning out of my mind.’

  ‘It must have been quite a shock,’ said Simone.

  ‘That’s the understatement of the century.’

  They sat down. ‘I know you’ve already given a statement but I was hoping you could run through it again,’ said West.

  Mrs James came back into the room with glasses and a jug of iced water. She rearranged the coasters on the coffee table and started to fill the glasses. ‘Stop fussing woman,’ Mr James said. ‘I’ll do it.’ She looked a bit dejected but immediately relented.

  ‘Do you want me to stay?’ she asked.

  Mr James shrugged at her and looked at West who said, ‘We would rather chat to your husband in private if that’s okay with you Mrs James.’ He smiled at her and she nodded and smiled back.

  ‘Of course it is,’ she said. She looked small as she left the room.

  They watched the door close and West turned to Mr James. ‘What do you do for a living Mr James?’

  ‘I sell insurance.’

  ‘In town?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Were you due to work today?’

  ‘Yeah. I rang in this morning after I found the, um, you know,’ he muttered.

  ‘Tell me about your morning Mr James?’

  He sighed quietly and started to pour three glasses of water from the jug. ‘There’s nothing to tell really. I went to the woods to take Chester for a walk and stumbled across it.’ He sighed quietly and looked guilty. ‘Sorry, I meant, her. I stumbled across her.’

  ‘It’s okay Mr James, it’s hard to see something like that and associate it with a living person,’ said West.

  ‘That poor girl,’ he said and used the back of his hand to wipe a film of sweat from his top lip. ‘Who could do such a thing?’

  ‘That’s what we are going to find out,’ said West. ‘How often do you take Chester for a walk?’

  ‘Every day.’

  ‘Always in the morning?’

  ‘Um. No usually in the evening.’

  ‘Why did you take the dog for a walk this morning and not last night?’

  ‘I did go last night but I went this morning as well.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just felt like it. I like the walk as much as he does.’

  ‘Man’s best friend eh?’ said West.

  Mr James laughed uncomfortably; he didn’t know what to say and was now distracted by Simone who had stood up and started to wander around the lounge.

  Simone could feel him watching her while she calmly sipped her glass of water and looked at the photographs placed around the room. She wanted him to feel uneasy, to believe that she had the right to go anywhere she wanted and riffle through his belongings. She wanted him to believe that he had no privacy and nothing was sacred, that any secrets he held would be exposed.

  She bent to look at one of the family photographs on the mantelpiece; it portrayed a younger Mr and Mrs James and a boy, presumably their son, on holiday somewhere hot. It was a nice picture and reminded her of pre-teen family holidays with her own parents in the late seventies and early eighties. She stood upright and as she did so, she caught a glance from West that clearly meant: talk to the wife. She got the message and said, ‘I’ll see if Mrs James needs a hand in the kitchen.’

  West nodded and said, ‘Good idea,’ and then directed his attention back to an increasingly flustered and evermore guilty looking Mr James.

  Simone left the lounge and followed the sound of Radio Four into the kitchen. Part of Simone expected Mrs James to be listening at the door but another part of her suspected that Mrs James preferred to remain in the dark. Life was easier when all you had to do was slice vegetables and listen to The Archers. She had her back to Simone when she entered the kitchen so Simone cleared her throat and said, ‘Mrs James?’

  ‘Oh hello,’ she said, spinning around with salad tongs in hand, she peered over Simone’s shoulder, no doubt to see if West was there too and to see if her husband’s interrogation was over.

  ‘I thought I’d see how you’re getting on.’

  ‘Me? I’m fine. I just hope Rupert’s all right.’

  ‘Nobody should have to see that. We have people he can talk to if he wants to discuss it with anyone.’

  ‘Do you really?’

  ‘It’s part of our procedure. Someone will be in touch soon, probably in the next few days to see if he’s interested in booking an appointment and having a chat.’

  ‘Oh, okay, I’ll let him know.’

  Simone walked towards the patio; the doors were wide open and a breeze poured gently into the kitchen. The large garden swept back in neat green slopes to a tree lined perimeter and Chester the dog lay sprawled and exhausted in the shade of the house. His tongue lolled from the side of his mouth in a puddle of drool and his chest quickly rose and fell. ‘Beautiful garden,’ said Simone.

  ‘Thank you; days like this do it justice.’

  ‘Chester looks tired.’

  ‘It’s the heat. Poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself.’

  ‘Is that why your husband walked him this morning, because of the heat in the evening?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Does he normally take Chester for a walk in the m
orning?’

  ‘Not usually.’

  ‘When was the last time he did?’

  ‘I…’ she hesitated. ‘Um, I can’t remember. A couple of weeks ago I suppose.’

  Simone spotted the lie. ‘What time does your husband start work?’

  ‘Eight thirty.’

  ‘He must have had to get up early this morning if he took the dog for a walk before work.’

  She started to toss the salad with the tongs. ‘He’s a light sleeper. He was probably awake.’

  ‘Did you get up too?’

  ‘No, I didn’t even hear him get up. He was just gone when I did.’

  ‘Did you wonder where he was?’

  ‘He left a note for me, said he’d be back for breakfast.’

  ‘But he wasn’t.’

  ‘No, he rang me on his mobile, said he’d found something terrible in the woods and called the police. He had to wait for them to arrive before he could show them what he’d found.’ She unscrewed the cap on a bottle of expensive olive oil and poured a thin stream onto the salad and started to toss again.

  ‘What did you do last night?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not much, we had something to eat, watched television and went to bed.’ Simone watched her as she went to the fridge and took out a fresh lime.

  ‘Your husband didn’t take Chester for a walk?’

  ‘Um, no.’ She cut the lime in half and squeezed it onto the salad.

  Simone smiled. ‘That’s fine Mrs James. We just have to cover all the bases. We need to get to the bottom of this, I’m sure you understand.’

  ‘Of course, of course. It’s a terrible thing.’ She shook her head. ‘Terrible.’

  ‘The salad looks lovely.’

  She looked distracted and then confused; finally a look of recognition crossed her face and she smiled. ‘Oh, uh, thank you.’

  Simone walked back into the lounge and sat down. Mr James looked even more flustered than he did before Simone left the room.

  ‘Okay I think that’s it from us Mr James.’ West stood and James followed suit. ‘If you think of anything else please just give us a call.’