‘Of course I’ll put in a good word for you.’
‘Actually, I was hoping for a bit more than that.’ Paula took a deep breath. She’d been trying to find the right moment for days, but there had always been something in the way. If she didn’t take advantage of having Carol to herself now, who knew when the opportunity would arise again? ‘If I was to apply, would there be a job for me in West Mercia?’
Carol was caught on the back foot. ‘I don’t know. It never occurred to me that anybody would … ’ She shifted in her seat, the better to study Paula. ‘It won’t be like it is here, you know. Their homicide rate’s negligible compared with Bradfield. It’ll be much more like routine CID work.’
Paula quirked a smile. ‘I could live with that. I think I’ve done my fair share at the sharp end of fucked-up.’
‘Can’t argue with that. If it’s what you want, I’d do my best to make it happen,’ Carol said. ‘But I thought you were pretty settled here. With Elinor?’
‘Elinor’s not the issue. Well, not like you’re suggesting. The thing is, she needs to climb up the next step on her medical career. She heard there’s a good job coming up in Birmingham. And Bradfield to Birmingham is not a commute any sane person would want to do. So … ’ Paula slowed for a junction, scanning the road in both directions before she whipped through. ‘If she’s going to go for that, I need to consider my options. And if you’re going to West Mercia, I thought I might as well trade on my connections.’ She glanced at Carol and grinned.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Carol said. ‘There’s nobody I’d rather have on my team,’ she added, meaning it.
‘I got on really well with that sergeant we worked with on the RigMarole killings,’ Paula said, pressing her point. ‘Alvin Ambrose. I’d be happy to work with him again.’
Carol groaned. ‘I hear you, Paula. There’s no need to push it. And it may not be down to me, in the end. You know how it is right now, the way the cuts are biting into front-line officers.’
‘I know. Sorry, chief.’ She frowned at the satnav then made a tentative left turn into a small industrial estate, prefabricated warehouses with their shallow-pitched roofs lining the curving road. They rounded the final bend and Paula knew she was in the right place. A scatter of police and crime-scene vehicles clustered round the last warehouse on the site, flashing blue lights turned off in a bid to avoid attention. But there was no mistaking the fluttering festoons of crime-scene tape staking out the building. Paula pulled up, turned off the engine and squared her shoulders. ‘This’ll be us, then.’
These were the occasions when Carol understood that, no matter how good a cop she was, it would never be enough. Always arriving after the fact grew harder to bear the longer she did this job. She wished Tony was with her, and not just because he would read the scene differently from her. He understood her desire to prevent episodes like this, events that shredded people’s lives and left them with gaping holes in the fabric of the day-to-day. Justice was what Carol craved, but these days she felt it seldom showed up.
DS Reekie hadn’t said much and she was glad of that. Some things went beyond words, and too many cops tried to keep the horror at bay with chatter. But nothing could keep a sight like this at arm’s length.
The woman was naked. Carol could see several thin superficial cuts on her skin and wondered if the killer had cut her clothes off her. She’d ask the CSI photographer to make a point of getting them in his shots so they could make comparisons if the clothes turned up.
The woman’s body had been fixed to a cross with sturdy six-inch nails through her wrists and ankles. Carol tried not to wince at the thought of what that must have sounded like; the crack of hammer on nails, the crunch of bones, the cry of agony echoing off the metal walls. Then the cross had been propped up against the wall upside down so that her dyed blonde hair skimmed the gritty cement floor, her roots a dark line across her forehead.
It hadn’t been crucifixion that had killed her, though. Carol supposed you’d have to classify the savage slash to the throat as a kind of mercy, but it was a kind she hoped she’d never need. The cut had been deep enough to sever major blood vessels. Under arterial pressure, the blood had travelled an impressive distance, the spray visible on the floor all around except for one patch. ‘He was standing there,’ she said, half to herself. ‘He must have been saturated.’
‘He must be bloody strong,’ Paula said. ‘To shift a wooden cross with a body on it, that’s hard work. I don’t think I could do it.’
The white-suited figure working closest to the body turned to face them. His words were slightly muffled by his mask, but Carol could hear them clearly enough. She recognised the Canadian accent of the Home Office pathologist, Grisha Shatalov. ‘The wood’s only two by six. And there’s nothing of her. I’d say classic addict physiology, except there’s no sign that she was injecting. I bet you could lift and drag her into place without too much effort, DC McIntyre.’
‘How long has she been dead, Grisha?’ Carol said.
‘You never ask the questions I can answer,’ he said, weary humour in his tone. ‘My best guess at this point is that she’s been dead for around twenty-four hours.’
‘The unit’s been empty for about four months,’ Reekie said. ‘The security guard didn’t notice the back door had been forced.’ There was no mistaking his contempt.
‘So how did we find her?’ Carol asked.
‘The usual. Man walking his dog last thing. The dog made a beeline for the back door. It must have smelled the blood.’ Reekie wrinkled his nose. ‘Hardly surprising. According to the owner, the dog charged the door, the door swung open, the dog vanished inside and wouldn’t come when called. So he went in, torch on. Took one look and called us.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘At least he had the good sense to grab the dog before it completely fucked up the crime scene.’
‘But Dr Shatalov reckons she was killed last night. How come the dog didn’t find her then?’
Reekie looked over his shoulder, where his DI was riding point. He’d been silent and still up to that point but knew what was expected of him. ‘They didn’t go that way last night, according to the owner. Obviously, we’ll be checking that out.’
‘Never trust the body finder,’ Reekie said.
