To Cast a Shadow Chapter One #2
I caught it, taking one. “Where are we heading?”
“Moss Lane Park. The body was found there two hours ago by a dog walker—usual story. One of the first responders recognised her from the news.” We merged onto the Princess Parkway, the route I would’ve taken to get home. “Chloe Bennett. What do you know about her?”
“Very little. She was hitting headlines a couple of months ago. Her and her friend were involved in something with the singer from a nineties’ boyband. I think she was only seventeen.” That was the limit of my knowledge.
Taz pressed a button on his steering wheel and the air in the car cooled almost instantly. Manchester had been undergoing a heatwave for the last few weeks. Hose pipes were now banned, and cars were full of dust. Grass looked more like straw on top of scorched earth.
Italy had been cooler.
“Has his marriage just ended? The singer?”
I pulled my phone and searched for more information.
Nothing came up for today, so the identity of the victim was still under wraps.
There was plenty on Ryan Devlin though. “Yep. His wife has filed for divorce; there are some awful photos of her. His spokesperson has made a statement with the usual need for privacy, priority being their children—standard stuff. Chloe Bennett and Scarlett Davies sold their story to a journalist in May, providing screenshots of messages between them and Ryan Devlin that described what he’d like to do with them.
” I summarised from the rather salacious news article I’d come across.
“There was no police involvement, was there?” Taz manoeuvred between lanes with ease. I hated being driven, preferring to oversee my own destiny, but Taz didn’t have that annoying habit of getting too far up the arse of the car in front, which I appreciated.
“No. It was text messages, and they were seventeen and clearly instigating it from what I’ve read.” I found a website with more of the texts. “They got his number from one of his security staff.”
“Interesting. And now one of them is dead. What do you know about the group he was in?”
“Boyband from thirty years ago; girls fainted at their concerts. They followed the same route lots of boybands did; manufactured, stayed together until one of them wanted to follow ‘a different artistic direction’. Devlin was the biggest solo star and the other four members reformed a few years later.”
“Probably because they were skint,” Taz chipped in.
“Probably. The group officially finished; Owen Price disappeared from the media altogether. Gav Doyle carried on writing for other acts and did incredibly well. Ryan carried on his solo career, which had its ups and downs. The other two just enjoyed their wealth and stayed out of the limelight. I think one of them appeared on a gardening show.” I doubted my garden would ever appear on any gardening shows unless it was for a makeover, or Britain’s Worst Gardens, if that existed.
“They all got back together in nine years ago, and did a few tours over six years, then there was a massive falling out, and Ryan publicly left; no niceties, just a lot of vitriol. He restarted his solo career which has not gone particularly well.”
“Like I said, typical boyband trajectory.” He took a right turn at lights towards Moss Lane Park.
“You’re not a boyband fan, I take it?”
“Nah.” He couldn’t have sounded more Mancunian if he’d tried. “Some of my older brothers were into House and that scene, and I followed them, pretty much. In fact, one of my cousin’s mates knew Ryan Devlin when he was trying to get into music.”
The traffic thinned as we got closer to the crime scene, a road was cordoned to us, but opened when Taz showed his ID. Police tape was strung like low hanging bunting, a party for the newly dead.
Dr Saira Mizra, known to everyone as Dr Miz, was hanging around the entrance with an iced coffee and a joyful expression, beaming when she saw our new DI.
“Morning, and what a morning it is.” Her words were for Taz and not me. “I’ve just got here so can’t shed any light on your vic whatsoever right now, but I’m sure I’ll be able to help you after.”
“Lovely.” Taz didn’t bat an eyelid. “Weather’s warm; this isn’t going to be pretty. Which way are we going?” He spoke to one of the responding officers, a uniform who looked like he was going to melt. It was only just after eight and already the temperature was over twenty-five.
“Take the path to the right and follow it for a couple of minutes, then look to your right again. The body’s been hidden in bushes at the back.” He shrugged, nonchalant, as if this was something he dealt with every day.
“Gotcha.” Taz strode on, leading the way along the path which cut through dense trees and bushes.
The park was a corner of Longsight left to provide some greenery in a concrete jungle.
It was small and unremarkable, nothing of interest to note apart from a children’s play area that had recently been done up, and the source of several call outs each week because of teenagers and youths in it who had nowhere else to go and nothing better to do.
I’d been asked many times how I coped dealing with murder, the very worst of what people could do to each other, but it was better than being a street cop because every time a problem was solved, two more replaced it, like cutting off a hydra’s head.
“Please tell me you don’t run round here on your own at night.” Taz muttered the words without looking at me.
“Only if I take pepper spray with me.”
He spared me a glare and carried on walking, saying nothing and leaving me upturned.
The path was narrow, barely wide enough for two people. The grass and weeds next to it had been trampled down in places by footsteps looking for somewhere closeted to hide. The area was going to be a nightmare for forensics.
A sergeant I was familiar with was waiting for us with his arms folded and expression severe. He held up a hand in acknowledgement when he saw us, saying something to one of his team.
“DI Taz O’Sullivan,” my new boss said when we reached him. “And DS Mia McAllister.”
Sergeant Drew Black nodded, point to where more grass and weeds had been trampled.
“She was found a couple of hours ago by a dog walker. We’ve taken the dog walker home and have a FLO with her—she was really shaken up.
Her dog was off lead and ran out back there and started barking.
The owner went to see what had happened and found a body.
She called us and we had officers here in ten minutes.
Everything’s been done by the book.” He gave me a nod. “Good to see you again, Mia.”
I managed a smile. I liked Drew Black. He was a couple of years older than me and a good cop, although I suspected his now ex-wife disagreed. “You too. We okay to go over?”
“All yours. I’ll head back to the station in half an hour. We’ve had two dickheads brought in for aggravated burglary and I want to speak to them myself,” he said, sounding satisfied.
“Sorted.” Taz didn’t hang around, heading into the undergrowth.
“Is the new boss okay?” Drew said when Taz was far enough ahead to not hear.
I nodded. “He’s a good bloke.” I knew that much was true. “How’s things with you.”
“Okay. How’s things with that teacher you were seeing?” Drew said, tapping his foot.
“Over a while ago.” Him sleeping with my housemate had ended that one.
“Fancy going—”
“Mia, you need to see this.” DI O’Sullivan stuck his head out.
I gave Drew a nod, leaving him to make what he wanted of that, and followed Taz, through the trampled undergrowth and bushes to a space that had been filled with the stuff of nightmares.
Chloe Bennett had been a pretty girl who’d taken pride in her appearance. Photos in the press and online had shown her to be slim, made up like she was appearing on a catwalk or reality TV show. The reality she was now in was not one she’d have opted for.
She lay on ground covered with dead leaves and loose soil, the trees above blocking any sunlight. Insects had already started on the process of decomposition, doing their job, an army of flies performing a chaotic parade.
Taz pulled out his phone, pressing a few buttons. “It’s DI O’Sullivan. Where is the forensics team for Moss Lane?”
I tuned him out, happy to have someone else chasing things up. Wrigley preferred to remain at the office, Taz was clearly going to be more hands-on. That was fine with me.
What wasn’t fine with me was what had happened to Chloe.
There were messy red marks around her neck, as if someone had tried to paint a scarf onto her.
A necklace was still there, gold coloured, her name made out of the metal.
She was still wearing make-up, black mascara that had ran down her face, probably from tears or her eyes watering if someone had grabbed her round the neck.
My guess was that she’d been strangled before being brought here for her killer to arrange her.
“This is not what I was expecting.”
I jumped, Taz standing next to me. I hadn’t noticed him draw near.
“What were you expecting?”
“Something more normal. Not a memorial.” He was frowning and I understood why.
Our killer had laid Chloe out with what looked like care.
She was still dressed, although her arms were full of cuts.
A short top that had rolled up her torso, exposing her stomach; a skirt that would’ve hit mid-thigh; expensive trainers and socks that were more fashion accessory than use.
Her hair had been put into a long plait that would’ve almost reached her lower back, rope like, reminding me of Rapunzel.
She was flat on her back; some leaves and branches and soil having pooled around her with the breeze and probably the dog.
Electric tea lights had been placed around her and between them, a flower; dandelions and daisies, something that had been found in the park.
At the top of her head were a cluster of stones that looked like they’d been placed to form letters.