No Cause of Death

Chapter 1

September 1999

The foreboding overcast sky was filled with storm-laden angry clouds. A sudden flash of forked lightning was accompanied by barrelling thunder almost immediately. Twelve year old Michael Wood began to wish he’d taken the school bus back home instead of pocketing the fare and walking back. He was already drenched with just under a mile left to walk.

Winfield Bridge had long passed its heyday, way back it had a strong reputation as a sword manufacturing location in the northeast of England. Nestling close to the river and at one end of an old defunct railway track, which had been converted to a country trail for pedestrians, horses and cyclists, it seemed content with now being a desirable rural retreat.

The Red Kite Walk was never too busy at this time of the afternoon and offered a considerable short cut to Michael’s house. He was expecting an inquisition as to how he’d got so wet on the bus. As he was desperately trying to figure out a plausible excuse, he heard a rustling sound in a patch of bushes close to the trail, about three metres ahead. He approached the bushes with some trepidation, imagining all kind of explanations, including feral cats which had recently been described in the local newspaper as shambolic, accusing the council of doing nothing about it.

The rustling stopped, Michael parted a clump of ferns in front of the bushes, and leapt back in utter horror. He retreated further, looked up and down the walk but there was nobody in sight. He ran through the mud and lashing rain with thunder rattling in his ears. The lightning was moving east and was now a few seconds ahead of the thunderclaps. He was completely out of breath by the time he hurdled over the low garden fence and banged on the front door.

His mother looked him up and down. Where the hell have you been? I came to the bus stop with an umbrella to keep you dry. Just look at the mess, get those muddy shoes off and hang your school blazer in the kitchen, it’ll have to drip into a bowl before going in the washer.

Mam, I’m sorry, but you should phone the police. There’s a dead man on the Red Kite Walk. He was being eaten by rats. I couldn’t chase them away, there were too many. They were eating his face.

Michael, you’ve come up with some weird excuses to get you out of trouble but this is the most stupid I’ve heard. You can tell your lies to your father, he’ll be home from work in half an hour or so.

I’m not lying, mother. Ok, I didn’t get the bus, I wanted to save the fare so I can buy some new trainers. I just heard a noise in the bushes. I wish I hadn’t gone to see what it was now, he’s dead, he’s a funny colour and the rats are chewing at him. There was nobody else on the walk or I would have asked them to call the police. I’m not telling lies.

Alright, alright, calm down. Will you be able to find the spot again?

Yes, yes I will, but ring them now or there won’t be anything left of him. I can show the police where he is, but they can’t get there in a car or motorbike, the walk has barriers to stop them. Hurry up, mother, I think I’m going to be sick.

*

The squad car arrived within twenty-five minutes. Two uniformed officers knocked at the door. The older and obviously senior one spoke first. We’ve received instructions to come here because a body has been discovered, are you Mrs Wood?

Yes. I am, just a moment, I’ll get my husband and son to come and speak with you.

John Wood brought his son to the front door.

Hello, this is my son Michael, he’ll take us to the place where he apparently found the body, but you won’t get there in any kind of motor vehicle, as it’s on part of the Red Kite Walk. We’ll have to go the last quarter of a mile on foot and you’re going to need waterproof clothing if this bloody storm doesn’t ease off.

Ok, sir, we have heavy duty rainwear in the car, said the senior officer, anything else you can tell us?

Not really, other than he’s sure he disturbed rats chewing at the corpse.

The senior officer told his colleague to collect their hand weapons from the glove compartment as they headed off. Michael didn’t fancy seeing the body again but put on a brave face.

He looked around several times to be certain, stood back from the cluster of ferns and then pointed to them. Over there, at the other side of the walk. He was behind those green plants.

Both officers moved forwards, telling John Woods and his son to stay back. As soon as they parted the ferns, the younger one recoiled, and covered his mouth as his superior told him they’d need masks from the car boot. The rats had continued their consumption of the body, notably the eyes were gone, and the officers could see movement inside the trouser legs.

Jesus, Thompson, get on the radio to the station, we’re going to need CID help with this, tell them it looks like a suspicious death, oh, and they’ll need forensics people here pronto. I’ll get the masks and a tarpaulin from the spare wheel compartment to protect what’s left from these damned rodents.

There was no let-up in the rain so all four of them sheltered under a large tree in a nearby field until CID officers arrived at the scene with forensic assistance and a pathologist. They’d been told to leave their vehicles outside the nearest barrier gate to the walk. If anything, the rain had become heavier, so it was just as well the forensic expert had the presence of mind to bring a zip-up fold away tent in case they had to move the corpse to a dry environment. Jenny Headley left the uniformed officers to erect the tent next to the body while she marked up various other points of interest. Meanwhile, the pathologist cast his eyes over the remains.

Hugh Jefferson was so looking forward to retirement and he couldn’t help offering his usual dry sense of humour to the group. I can’t see any obvious wounds or fractures, and he couldn’t realistically have got here by vehicular transport, so I’m thinking he probably died right here. If he’s had a cardiac arrest, a stroke, or an aneurism somewhere else it would be quite difficult for someone to bring him here. Oh well, as usual I’ll have the pleasure of undressing him in splendid isolation back at the pathology lab. Just what I needed before going out with Mrs Jefferson for a curry. Jenny, please let me know as soon as you can when I can take him away. I’ll get out of your way for now, I could do with lighting up my pipe in the comfort of my car.

The CID duo led John Wood and Michael away some distance. DCI Robert Kane was nothing if not sceptical, very challenging to work with, and utterly unconcerned over how those in his team regularly protested about working unsocial hours. He was particularly sullen at present because the Edenwell force had first asked Durham police for CID assistance, but had been bounced because the Durham lot pleaded case overload. Kane would lodge his own protest about the Newcastle force being everyone’s nanny.

Alice, take the boy’s statement while I have a chat with the father. Now then, Mr Wood, why didn’t your son try to flag somebody on this path rather than run all the way home to tell his mother to call the police?

John Wood didn’t warm to this line of questioning.

Inspector, I have…

Detective Chief Inspector. Sorry, carry on.

I can’t imagine what the poor lad felt like when he saw this horror. He said there wasn’t anyone else in sight in either direction, he was scared shitless and ran home as soon as he could. So, what’s the problem?

No problem other than trying to preserve more of the body from the rodent fest. But I take your point, he’s just a young lad. I’d have thought this trail was normally well used by all manner of people at this time of day, but I suppose the foul weather must have put people off. I’m always thinking as an officer of the law, please forgive me. No offence intended. I just wondered whether other kids would go home from school along this walk.

Not as far as I know, there’s always a bus waiting for them when school is over. Anyway, we’ve lectured Michael time and again that this walk isn’t safe for young kids to be on their own. Do you think there’s something suspicious about this?

Well, that would be speculating, it’s more likely to be a missing person, but even if that is the case, we need to know the cause of death. Your boy did the right thing. All I want to ask you is to call me if and when he remembers more detail. It’s often a few days after a trauma like this that young people recall small details of interest. I’m intrigued by him being drawn to where he found the body by this rustling noise. Maybe his recall will become more specific later. Of course if there are no signs of foul play, it will be of no importance. So, once Detective Sergeant Baxter has his statement you should take Michael home. Thank you for your help, Mr Wood.

*

Back at the station, Jenny Headley was testing several samples of flora she’d collected at Winfield Bridge, together with a handful of skin tissue extracts from places where there was no evidence of rodent bite marks. As yet she had no information to suggest interaction with another person.

In contrast, Hugh Jefferson declared that he couldn’t find any evidence of underlying health concerns in the victim. He was between thirty and forty-five years old and in excellent condition, apart from being eaten of course. There are no indications of being attacked by another person, notwithstanding that the rats may have destroyed such evidence. He just seems to have died. Of exactly what, will only be revealed in good time.

Robert Kane was never satisfied with such a broad brush conclusion. What about drugs?

I don’t believe so, but as I said, at present he’s a mystery. The autopsy should tell us if you’d just let me get on with that task. His highly discoloured skin leads me to believe that he may have reacted to some allergen or another. I’ll have to do a full toxicology trawl now. There may be internal evidence I’ve missed in my initial examination and that may reveal more scientific evidence. I hear there was nothing on the body in the way of identification.

Yes…, sorry, I mean yes there wasn’t any ID of any kind. We’re busy running missing persons, so that might throw up a clue. However, Hugh, you haven’t mentioned time of death. Surely someone should have found him before the rats moved in?

Hugh Jefferson stroked his chin and smiled. I was waiting to see if you were going to get to that. I’m missing a lot of body parts which could have helped me out. However, along his back the natural decomposition has proceeded without the hungry rat involvement. I’d say he hasn’t been deceased for more than seventy-two hours. Also, I found some contaminant which was stuck under his belt. I passed this to Jenny and she just called me to say it definitely wasn’t from that Winfield Bridge site. She’s busy with finding out more, but she thinks it implies he may not have died there. It is also consistent with drag marks under his belt. Maybe she’s correct.

Ok, Hugh, I’ll go and see Jenny now. There’s something else I wanted to ask her. I’ll get back to you when you’ve got the toxicology results.

*

When Kane entered Jenny’s office he detected nervousness as she shuffled papers around her desk, seemingly trying to hide something.

Hugh tells me there was some contaminating stuff under the dead guy’s belt.

Yes, I was just about to come and see you about that.

She closed the door and invited him to sit.

I don’t really know how to approach this, I’m going to do more tests, so I’ll hopefully find I’m wrong.

Wrong about what, Jenny? Come on, what’s bothering you? Is there a problem with this contaminant stuff?

No, no, I wish that’s all it was. Look, I need to repeat my tests and then I can be sure there’s no mistake. I’ll do it now and speak to you this afternoon.

Fine. I have to speak with Alice Baxter anyway. We need to check out missing persons in the region as a starting point. Call me when you’re ready.

Chapter 2

Located in the city centre, the police station was a typical example of the flamboyant architectural style during the industrial revolution. Robert Kane looked around the open office area. Everywhere he saw contrasts with the exterior’s former grandeur. Functionally drab furniture and subsequent neglect, ingrained dirt, a patchwork of decay. The same dilapidation was infecting the people working there. Evidence of an exquisite veneer under attack from organisational chaos. Sombre décor, broken venetian blinds, scratched wooden floors, desks at obtuse angles to one another, and a snow covering of paperwork next to each person. Worst of all, he knew there was no appetite for change. Nevertheless, the self-reinforcing nature of such apathy attracted more cases from rural forces to the straining city workload, concurrent with his team diminishing in personnel. This latest case being typical.

What have we got so far, Alice?

Nothing in the northeast in that male age group, sir, and that’s going back three months.

Kane reacted by suggesting she should expand the radius and run through the database again.

How far out do you want to go? There’s nothing logged in the whole of Northumberland, Durham and Yorkshire. If the pathologist still doesn’t know for sure, he might well have died where he was found. Looking further afield is a hell of a lot of work, and maybe we should be concentrating on the cause of death for now.

I don’t like the word ‘might’, Alice. Hugh has to do more tests, including a full toxicology check. We have nothing else to go on, so let’s just do the spadework in preparation for elimination of impossible scenarios. If nothing flags up possibilities in the whole country we’ll have to move on to another case. It’s all about efficiency these days, Alice. Why don’t you get young DC Weaver to do the trawl, or don’t you trust him?

He is a bit wet behind the ears, guv. I can get him to do it but I’d want to look over his shoulder. He’s still a work in progress.

Kane leaned over and whispered, True, but he needs to get off his arse instead of pretending to be busy. Should I go and see what he’s doing?

Point taken, I’ll get on it.

Kane was just about to reply when Jenny appeared.

I need to show you something DCI Kane.

Very formal are we? Let’s go to my office.

He opened the window to allow some of the heat to disperse, then picked up a wedge of paperwork and files, and dumped them on the floor. There we go, plenty of space now.

Jenny cleared her throat. I want to say that I have discussed the case again with Hugh, and shown him my test results before coming to you. He deserved the opportunity to challenge my findings, in other words…

Get on with it, Jenny, I hear where you’re coming from and that’s fine. So?

Right. When we were at the scene in Winfield Bridge I took all kinds of objects for evaluation, and placed them in a cooler box to have them protected from the heat wave we’re experiencing at the moment. When Hugh said he couldn’t do the same for the corpse I tried to explain that objects in the victim’s pockets were stuck together with ice. He didn’t seem to respond well. Anyway, even when I got back to the lab some of these objects were still stuck together. I have to consider that the body could have been in a freezer prior to being deposited at Winfield Bridge. When I suggested this could have influence on estimated time of death he basically told me to back off. I ran some tests of my own and this annoyed him even more, but I’m confident the time of death he gave you may be unreliable. I can’t visualise the body having been placed there any longer than two hours before it was found, because the ice would have melted quite quickly in this heat. Perhaps you should speak with Hugh yourself.

Shit. I must admit I did feel uneasy about his estimate of the time of death being not more than seventy-two hours. What you’re suggesting is more in line with his death being shortly before the boy found him. I had doubts because if that path had so many users during a dry day he’d have been found almost immediately. I mean, it wasn’t exactly well hidden. It could also fit with the kid hearing a rustling in the bushes before he actually saw the corpse. There could have been somebody else retreating from the bushes. Look, we’ll have to have this out with Hugh, unpleasant as it might be, we can’t ignore evidence no matter who it might embarrass. And, we don’t really have much evidence at all, so whatever we do have has to be respected. Let’s give Hugh time to do his toxicology report and then tackle him about your concern.

Fine. But you misunderstood my reasoning. He could indeed have died shortly before Michael found him, or more likely quite a long time ago, and stored in a freezer. Seventy-two hours is nothing more than guesswork. I just wish he could explain why my samples were frozen solid in the middle of a hot spell. There may be another explanation, but we must have one which makes sense.

*

Alice Baxter finally got rookie DC David Weaver to understand what she wanted, and was pleasantly surprised that he then worked so quickly. He was certainly more tech savvy than her, it was at least a starting point. There were seventeen missing person reports across the entire UK in the space of the last month. In three months the number was over one hundred. Once he’d subtracted ones subsequently reported solved the totals were twelve and sixty-four in time periods of one and three months respectively. Overlaying the age and gender criteria dropped those numbers to two and twenty-one.

They reported this together and Kane was philosophical.

Where are they located?

Alice allowed Weaver to enlighten the boss.

The twenty-one are heavily skewed toward London with nine. The non-capital incidents are, two in Glasgow, three in Greater Manchester, two in Birmingham, one in Leicester, one in Sheffield, one in Hull, one in Southampton, and one in Bristol. I should say, sir, that many of these are of ethnic minorities and when they are eliminated, as I understand the corpse was white Caucasian, the ones of interest falls to seven. My reading of this is that it’s not a reliable source of data in this particular case of ours. I’ve highlighted the ones which may offer some hope if indeed the victim was from somewhere outside the northeast.

Ok, replied Kane, leave the analysis with me. Alice, I want you to join me with Jenny and our pathologist tomorrow morning.

Fine, see you then, boss, I’m off home now. She felt vindicated in claiming it had been a waste of time, but was impressed with Weaver’s efficiency.

*

DS Alice Baxter felt awkward. The atmosphere was frosty even though not a word had been spoken as Kane finally arrived. Sorry I’m bit late folks, the inner clique have been pestering me for updates. I’m sure my response will rule me out of joining their cosy ranks any time soon. Now then, I know we have a bit of disagreement swilling around but we’re all on the same team, so I want to hear both of your takes on where we go from here, even if it isn’t what you thought previously. I have to confess that I’ve had a bad feeling about this case from day one. It has a raggedness about it. I’m sure we’ll keep shaping our investigation to fit the actual evidence we’re all happy to endorse. Right, Hugh, do you want to go first?

The pathologist seemed calmer than Jenny Headley.

I have the toxicology report now but I think it might be better to deal with the elephant in the room first. He checked the body signals of the others, who nodded their agreement.

"As my estimate of time of death has come under scrutiny I remind you that I examined him at the lab, which was around three hours after the boy found the body. Since then, Jenny has brought to my attention her observation that some of her samples taken from the scene were stuck together with ice. And I’m told the flora I discovered under his belt were not from the scene. Therefore, I’m happy