Chapter Seventeen


Joel was on his way over to the machine to get himself a fresh cup of warm coffee when he spotted Carter steaming the other way down the corridor with a phalanx of uniformed officers in his wake. He was built like a bear and when he was moving fast, like he was now, the world simply parted to make way for him or it got knocked flat on its back.

Superintendent Sam Carter was thirteen years older than Joel, and they’d been friends for ten of those years, ever since Joel had joined up with Thames Valley. Joel knew him pretty well — well enough to know that behind the gruff exterior was a guy who burst into tears at the mere sound of Dolly Parton’s voice, especially when he was drunk, which wasn’t unusual for him. And well enough to know that when he had the grim look on his face that he was wearing now, something extremely serious was up.

‘What’s happening?’ Joel asked as Carter swept past. It was like trying to catch a ride on a moving train.

‘You want to know? Come with me.’

Carter filled Joel in as the squad car sped out of Oxford and headed south towards Sonning Eye.

‘Member of the public found her half an hour ago. Or a piece of her, at any rate.

Hell of a mess. The divers are still fishing bits out of the river.’

‘Do we know who she is?’

‘Not a clue.’ Carter looked at him. ‘You look like shit, Solomon.’

‘I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.’ And Joel was beginning to feel it.

The scene was already milling with personnel and vehicles by the time they got there. A quarter-mile stretch of river had been cordoned off with police barrier tape.

Extra officers were being drafted in from across the county to keep back the crowd of locals that was quickly growing as word spread of the grisly find. Inflatable launches burbled up and down the river carrying frogmen and recovery equipment. As Joel followed Carter across the grassy bank towards the riverside, he could see a lot of very sick expressions on the officers’ faces. Away in the trees, where he thought nobody could see him, a young rookie constable was heaving his guts out.

The police pathologist at the scene was Jack Brier. Mutilated corpses were his stock in trade, but even he looked a little greyer than Joel had ever seen him before. He was crouched over a bodybag in the grass, pulling off a pair of surgical gloves as Joel crossed the inner cordon and walked over to him. A couple of police photographers had just finished up and were packing away their equipment.

‘Hell of a thing,’ Brier muttered to Joel and Carter. ‘Have you had lunch? Then don’t look.’

Joel stared down at the thing in the bodybag.

Brier chuckled at the expression on his face. ‘Told you. She’s seen better days, that’s for sure. We’ve recovered the head, most of the trunk, the left arm and what’s left of the right leg. The rest could have floated down into Berkshire by now.’

‘What did this?’ Carter asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Brier shrugged. ‘Hard to tell, until we get her on the slab and have a poke around inside. If this was Alaska, I’d say a grizzly had taken a bite out of her.’ He gave a dark grin. ‘But this isn’t Alaska.’

‘Jesus,’ Carter mumbled. He’d seen enough. He looked away, watching the divers and visibly trying to control his emotions.

‘The strangest thing is,’ Brier went on. ‘I mean, I can’t be sure just yet, but look how little lividity there is. And she’s still fresh, too. Not been in the water more than six, seven hours tops. Cut a long story short, it looks to me like this young lady has been completely exsanguinated, even before she was dissected.’

‘In English,’ Carter said.

Joel answered for Brier. ‘He’s saying something drained her blood.’

‘Drained her blood,’ Carter repeated flatly.

Brier nodded. ‘Every last drop of it.’

Joel was still staring at the pieces of the girl’s body as Brier got to his feet and went off with Carter to confer with some of the others. Just then, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He fished it out and saw that the call was from Dan Cleland.

‘And for my next miracle,’ Cleland said.

‘You got the results already?’

‘Just in. Specially for my favourite CID officer.’

Joel tensed. Dan was one of those guys who liked to string things out for effect.

‘Well?’

‘The arresting officer was right about the pills. Not top stuff, but definitely ecstasy.’

‘And the blood test, Dan?’

‘Goodness, we are in a tizzy today.’

‘If you were standing here looking at a dead girl’s head in a bag, so would you be.’

‘All right, all right. Well, if your man’s dealing, he doesn’t use from his own stash.

Blood test was clean.’

‘What about alcohol?’

‘Zilch. Soberer than a Sons of Temperance convention.’

‘You’re sure about that? Quite certain?’

‘When have I ever been wrong?’

‘Never. Thanks, Dan.’

‘You owe me now, Solomon.’

‘Right.’ Joel ended the call and was about to flip the phone shut. Then he stopped. Glanced around him. Brier was deep in conversation with his colleagues and Carter was getting belligerent with someone on the police radio. Nobody was watching him.

He quickly turned on the camera function on his phone, crouched down in the grass and took two snaps of the victim. One of her face, the glassy eyes staring right into the lens.

And the other of the spider tattoo on what was left of her neck.


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