Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I wasn’t used to waking up with anyone next to me, so to find that if I stretched out my legs, my feet or knees encountered hard blocks of muscle covering with slightly hairy flesh was disconcerting at first.
It took me a few seconds to remember that Cavan had stayed over after the party.
I’d gone to bed before him, just after midnight, no longer able to stay awake.
I’d had a couple of drinks and then found where the soda was, not wanting to gift myself a hangover on a day off.
He’d stayed up later, then crawled into bed with me, waking me up in a way I could think about repeating more frequently.
I rolled over, my back to his front, and pushed against him with my backside. A big arm wrapped over me, his hand exploring.
Sounds, a word, fell, mumbled from his lips.
I sat up, awake and alert and confused.
“Mia? What’s up?” Cavan’s eyes flicked open; his hair mussed from sleep.
“I thought – sorry, I’m being weird. I thought you said Lucy’s name.” I lay back down, pulse a little too fast, brain overworking, kicking myself for doing my usual thing of trying to sabotage something just when I was considering investing.
He pulled me closer to him. “Why would I say Lucy’s name?”
“I don’t know.” His hands were touching places I liked. “I was probably still dreaming.”
“It’s Saturday morning and you aren’t working, so dreaming’s what you should be doing.” More hands. More good places.
I let myself relax, breathe, empty my head and it was all going so well until my phone started to vibrate.
I froze, causing Cavan to freeze what he was doing too.
“Is that your phone?”
I sat up. He moved away, lying flat on his back in my bed, probably mentally cursing my job.
“It is. Sorry.” I answered it, catching sight of the time. Seven forty-five. “Morning.” It wasn’t a good one, clearly.
Wrigley sounded just the same at any time. “How quickly can you get to the River Irwell near Deansgate Way?”
“Half an hour. Do we have another?” I was already out of bed, grabbing my dressing gown and heading to the bathroom. I’d have to enjoy being touched another time.
“We do. Female. Still in the water and you’ve got more chance of getting there before forensics pull her out. Nick will meet you there – Vinny hasn’t picked up yet.”
I could offer Wrigley and explanation there. Vinny’s phone was still in our kitchen, but Vinny was more than likely in bed with a geography teacher at her place.
“Do you want me to pick him up?” Cavan would have the geography teacher’s number, so at least there was half a plan.
“If you can.” A pause. “Sorry, Mia. On behalf of our murderer or murderers at least, I'm sorry they didn’t pick a better timeframe.”
“Maybe they’ve done this on purpose.” I turned on the shower.
“Maybe. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I was there in forty minutes, showered, accompanied by Vinny who was still in last night’s clothing, chipper because Dr Miz was on holiday so he didn’t have to come face to face with her when he still smelled of another woman, and even more chipper because of how last night had gone.
The scene was amass with an ant-army of CSIs when we got there, Nick already instructing the barrier to be moved further out, mainly to piss off the press who were already gathered.
“Is this the same Pusher, Detective? Do we have another serial killer?”
“Detective, should we be closing off any pathways next to water to prevent any more murders?”
“Do you agree that the police are clueless and an enquiry should be opened immediately?”
We walked past them, a dozen retorts hanging off the end of my tongue.
“Dickheads,” Vinny muttered. “You got any shoe covers on you?”
I nodded. “I keep them in all my coat pockets and I don’t understand how you can’t be organised. I’m assuming you carry condoms on you?”
“Always. You never know when the opportunity will present itself.”
“Think the same way about crime scenes and carry shoe covers the same way then.” I smacked him with the back of my hand, my hand containing shoe covers for him. “Am I going to find a sobbing geography teacher on my sofa later because you’ve ghosted her?”
“No, absolutely not.” He sounded taken aback. “I’m seeing her again tonight – depending on this.” He pointed to the clustering of cops and techs. Jenna was there, as was another familiar face, one I hadn’t seen for a couple of years, and not in this part of the world.
Tall, gangly, with a face that could’ve belonged to Clark Kent, my half-brother looked almost pleased to see me.
Almost.
“I was expecting you quarter of an hour ago.” His almost succeeded in giving me a dirty look, but failed because he was also almost smiling.
“I was expecting you about four years ago.” Because that was when we’d last meant to meet up, but he’d up and gone to North Carolina to complete some course and stayed there, for reasons unknown, because my half-brother liked to be off the grid, especially if Stan was on it.
“We need to catch up.” He looked older, maybe he’d put weight on. “But more importantly, we need to get this body out of the water.”
He was wearing his forensics suit, covered overalls to stop any trace from him getting onto the body.
We’d never had the conversation why either of us were doing the jobs we were doing, because since we’d known of each other – I was twenty-four when I found out about him, and he was twenty-nine – we’d spent approximately five hours in each other’s company in total.
We’d avoided each other, or he’d avoided me. Maybe it’d been best that way, but if he was standing in for Dr Miz while she got as far away from Vinny as possible, we were going to be attending at least one post-mortem together.
“What’ve we got?” I asked, peering into the river where I could see a face emerging from the water as it flowed.
“Dr Venn, Dr Osei just wants to send up the drone, are you okay if - ” one of the techs looked like she’d just met her favourite hero as she spoke to him.
“Yeah, Jenna can carry on. Rain’s forecast to start in under an hour so we need to get a shift on.” He looked at me and half-grinned again. “I should probably have given you the head’s up that I’d relocated here.”
“Probably. “I was grinning too, inappropriate for a crime scene, some would say, but there were no passersby to witness it.
We were situated on a remote embankment, around fifty metres away from a lesser-used stretch of tow path, just below Deansgate Way, with enough vegetation around to be shielded.
The ground below foot was muddy and slippery with the recent flood, the river water having gone down rapidly in the last few hours as the rain had stopped, and the temperature had increased slightly.
Near to us, slightly downstream, was a collapsed footbridge, some of the structure resulting in the water moving differently than it would’ve done.
“Anyone know when the footbridge collapsed?” I asked, looking around.
“The woman who called it in may do. She’s waiting to speak to someone to give a statement,” Jenna said, now stood next to Dr Nathaniel Venn, forensic scientist and my half-brother. They’d clearly met before, although I might never find out how. Jenna was just as much a closed book as he was.
I looked around, as if I was expecting to see the dog walker who’d not had the morning she’d hoped.
The area was an overgrown, tangled mess of scrub trees and weeds, starting to grow back from winter even though it was only early April.
Nettles and wild garlic grew, some of it flattened from feet and dogs, graffiti on exposed concrete pillars above spoke of names and tags and bands and messages created to enlighten the masses of Manchester and Salford.
Overhead, a grey sky loomed, faint whisps of white cloud weaved through it, like smoke declaring a new pope for a grey city, one who would deliver music for the masses and proclaim everything to be alright, our kid.
The body was semi-submerged, the side of her face visible in a shallow inlet near the water’s edge. It was wrapped in builder’s tarp and industrial transparent plastic sheeting, the features visible suggesting this was another female, her hair spilling into the water like feathery reeds.
She was pretty; or had been before this had happened to her. A pair of ducks took off from the other side of the river, the scene momentarily feeling still, those few seconds just before the first few drops of heavy rain begin, signifying a storm.
Nate broke the stillness by moving past me, a wetsuit now covering him, waders over his knees making him look like something from a dystopian film.
Three CSIs erected a tent, maintaining privacy even though the area was remote, the pattern of movement almost the same as the discovery of Chelsea and Brooke.
We had a third. A serial killer.
A rush of adrenaline zipped through me, almost making me feel lightheaded. Serial killers were rare, almost more fiction than fact. Very few coppers got the chance to work on a serial killer case, the excitement of being about to do so, almost lanced by the singe of guilt.
Three women were dead when they should’ve been alive. They were worth more than my career.
Jenna came and stood next to me, arms folded, looking grim. “We’ve got lucky this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“The water movement’s sluggish after the flood else I think we’d have been retrieving the body in a much poorer state.
If she’d have washed much further down it could’ve been weeks before we recovered her.
But the visibility in the water’s poor. It’s full of silt so finding any evidence even from where she’s been sunk is going to be tricky. ”
“She’s been sunk down with something?”
“Rocks. There are loads of pebbles wrapped in with her. The good news with this being number three, the team are now very well-practiced in removing bodies from water. Fragile skin and joint loosening – not a problem for them; floating stretchers – an everyday occurrence.” She shook her head.
“I could do without another one of these. I’m listed now to be called if anyone discovers a body in the water – canals, reservoirs, rivers – in case it’s connected.
We’re due good weather in a week, and I’d rather not be called out for the inevitable bodies in reservoirs when someone over-estimates their swimming capability.
” Jenna wandered off, clearly not in a good mood, and headed closer to the water where pole-mounted evidence markers had been set up, a couple of CSIs in waterproof gear taking photos of the body from all angles that they could.
Someone else was cutting away reeds and other bits to allow them to move the body without it snagging, and two others were working out how to get the floating stretcher underneath.
“The tarp’s already away from the body,” one of them said. “Are we ready to go?”
“Go,” Jenna said, muttering something to my brother. “Let’s get her to shore.”
Vinny came and stood next to me, both of us watching the CSIs slightly lift the stretcher and then used the water to bear weight. “Rather them than me.”
“Absolutely.”
“Is he your brother?” Vinny pointed at Nate. “Dr Miz’s replacement?”
“Half-brother. Please try to keep your cock away from him, although I don’t think he’d be interested.” The body was moved into the tent, the front just visible from where we were standing. Laid on a waterproof forensic sheet, they were trying to keep as much in situ as possible.
“Well, from what I heard, your half-brother would definitely not be interested in me because his type’s Doctor Jenna Osei.
Apparently they met at a conference, he got in her knickers and she asked him to stay there and keep diddling.
Why weren’t you in possession of this detail, Detective?
” Vinny was one of the station’s biggest gossips, but ironically, hated anyone gossiping about him.
“I’ve spoken to him twice in the last four years. We’re not what you call close.” They bagged the victim’s hands in sterile plastic cuffs to preserve any trace evidence, doing the same with her feet. She looked to be naked, a final humiliation for her.
“How can you not be close with someone you’ve grown up – shit, sorry, Mac.” Vinny looked away. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “I’m used to you being a dick. To be honest, I’m surprised when you’re not.” It wasn’t the first time Vinny had forgotten I hadn’t grown up like most kids.
My brother beckoned us over from the tent. “Mia, you might want to see this now.”
I headed over, Vinny on my heels, and noticed straight away that things were different.
“She’s still in rigor – the cold water will have slowed down the process, but in short, she’s either died in the foetal position or been moved into it straight after death.
” He looked up at me after taking a couple more photos.
“And there have been a load of stones wrapped up with her. Saira didn’t mention they were found with any of the other victims - ”
He stopped, a call from one of the CSIs from near a disused culvert echoing towards us.
“You’re going to want to see this!”