it’s the location, it’s all about location and being right on the beach.’
Paul followed the beam of the torch as Harry flashed it around.
‘What are you looking for?’ the older man asked.
‘Just getting a feel of the place,’ Paul said.
‘Oh right. Well, you seen enough now, have you?’
‘Pass us the torch. You can wait outside, if you want.’
‘Here.’ Harry gave him the torch. ‘Ugh, stinks of backed-up drains, if you ask me. Probably left the old used sani-bins in the ladies toilets.’ Harry headed out to stand on the veranda and have a smoke. It was still pouring with rain and they had about a half-mile walk back to the car park, which he didn’t relish.
Paul gave the main bar area a slow onceover and noticed that one table had been taken down from the stack and two chairs set beside it. It had candle drips and dirty glasses, and an empty bottle of vodka lay on its side. He went to look into the kitchen, which was, as Harry had described, filthy – plus sand had blown in through the cracks in the wooden slats.
Paul backed out, shone the torch over the bar area once more and then headed towards the toilets, the smell of drains growing more pungent the closer he got. He kicked open the door to the ladies, revealing a washbasin and a single cracked toilet. The smell grew even worse. Paul was tempted not to bother looking into the gents, but thought better of it and tried to open the door with his foot. It was firmly stuck, but now the smell was overpowering. He gave one more shove and the door opened.
‘Jesus Christ.’ He could now see why it had been difficult to move – a pair of legs was pressed against it. Paul let out a yell for Harry to join him, as he tried to ease the door open further. Harry came back inside, shouting that it was too dark, he couldn’t see. Paul aimed the torch towards him.
‘You’d better get your people. There’s a body rammed against the door. I think it’s a bloke.’
Harry covered his nose and mouth, as the smell was sickening.
‘You said this place had been checked out. By the stink in there, whoever it is has been here for quite a while,’ Paul went on.
‘Can you see his face?’ Harry asked.
‘No. His legs are blocking the door from opening.’
Harry backed away, saying they shouldn’t move anything and he’d call the station. Paul, by now, had taken out a handkerchief to cover his face. He shone the torch on to the table.
‘Looks like whoever it was sat over here. Maybe some drunk?’
Harry had gone back out to the veranda, swearing that his mobile was on the blink as Paul shone the torch back to the open lavatory. The light picked out a very expensive pair of crocodile boots. He inched closer and tried to gently ease the door wider to get a closer look at the body, but it was firmly wedged. He pressed himself against the wall to shine the torch round the narrow gap.
‘They’re on their way,’ Harry shouted as he returned, banging into some chairs, which toppled over. He swore and rubbed his thigh.
In the beam of his torch Paul could see that the corpse was wearing a leather jacket; one arm was crooked over his face and the other was half-raised as if trying to shield himself. ‘You want to have a look at him?’
‘No, I fucking don’t – and don’t you touch anything, for God’s sake.’
‘He’s wearing quality gear – leather jacket, croc cowboy boots.’
Harry edged his way closer to Paul, who handed him the torch, then he peered around the door. The light wavered and went out.
‘Shit.’
They were both now in total darkness, and the smell of the decomposing corpse was eye-watering. Harry gripped hold of Paul’s arm.
‘I’m gonna be sick.’
As Anna drove into the station, two patrol cars with lights blazing and sirens blasting almost ran into her. The rear car drew up and Williams looked out of the window, shouting something, but she couldn’t hear what he said. Quickly she parked up and hurried into the virtually empty incident room where she was told by a DC that a body had been found in the Smugglers cafe.
‘They got an ID on it?’
‘Not yet – it was only just called in by Harry Took. He thinks it had been there for some time.’
‘But wasn’t the cafe searched?’
‘Yes, weeks ago.’
Anna asked if anyone knew where Paul was, and then it dawned on her that she had asked him to check out the Smugglers cafe. She could hardly keep the smile off her face as she said it was a good thing her team were always so thorough. When she asked if someone could drive her over to the cafe, she was told that there wasn’t a car available. She asked for directions and returned to her car to drive herself.
The beach car park was a hive of activity. Three patrol cars, an ambulance, and forensic and undertaker’s vans were parked up. Although the Smugglers cafe was some distance away, it was easily picked out thanks to the arc lamps lighting it up like a movie set. The rain had thankfully ceased, but it was bitterly cold and the wind was sharp; coming from the ocean it was freezing. Anna’s fleece jacket was sodden and she was loath to get out of the car. To her relief she could see Paul heading up from the beach caught in her car’s headlights, and so she opened her window and called out to him. He paused and looked around and then catching sight of her, hurried towards her car.
As he got into the passenger side his teeth were chattering, he was so cold. Anna kept the heater on full blast for him.
‘I was feeling like a spare part and I was about to leave the cafe when I tried to open the door of the gents toilets,’ he explained. ‘Whoever it is, they’ve been dead a while, and there I was, trying to keep the scene from contamination when Williams and his heavies come charging in and took the door off its hinges. And boy, was he swearing. They’d apparently checked the place a few weeks ago.’
‘Cut the chit-chat, Paul – anyone recognise the body?’
‘We’ve not got a positive ID, obviously . . .’
‘Was it Alan Rawlins?’
‘Hell, no. Williams said straight off it was Sammy Marsh.’
Anna looked across at the beach. There were officers scurrying back and forth with torches.
‘You think he’d been there a while?’
‘By the stench, yes, and the way the body was lying it looked as if he’d been trying to protect himself with one arm across his face.’
Anna shivered and looked at her watch.
‘We’ll wait until they bring the body up then we’ll head back to the B and B. We’re on the first flight out of here in the morning.’
Paul grinned. ‘No train?’
‘No way. And I’d say with them finding Sammy, their hands will be full here so I doubt they’ll want us around.’
Paul asked if she had found anything for their case. She nodded and said it was not a lot, but enough for them finally to get some DNA to check with the blood found at Tina Brooks’s flat. She also told Paul that Alan Rawlins had had
She stared from the window as a covered stretcher was brought along the beach with Williams following, talking into his mobile. She opened the driver’s door but a blast of cold air made her shut it quickly.
Williams overtook the stretcher and waved towards Anna’s car. She hunched her shoulders and got out, wrapping her thin jacket around her, and headed for the stretcher.
‘Is it Sammy Marsh?’ she demanded loudly.
Williams turned to ask the stretcher-bearers to stop.
‘I’d say so. You want to take a look at him?’
Anna shuddered from the cold, but stood close to the stretcher as Williams unzipped the body bag.
‘He’s not a pretty sight. Don’t know how he was killed, but he’s going straight over to Pathology. Don’t want to waste time examining here.’
