Page 4 of Gone in the Night (Detective Morgan Brookes #16)
FOUR
Ben had managed to get keys for one of the off-road vehicles owned by the force.
The farmer had made it clear when he’d phoned in that they wouldn’t get up to the scene without one.
As they’d driven towards the location, Marc had done nothing but talk about how good this new detective was he’d brought in from up west. Apparently, his track record was unblemished.
Ben knew he was trying to defuse the situation because he’d arranged Amy’s replacement without even consulting him, which pissed him off big time.
Marc should have waited to speak to him first. He’d only been off work for a week and what a crappy start to their first day back.
He was deep breathing and doing his best to keep calm, but it was a lot harder than he anticipated.
‘So, are you okay with Tristan coming in then? I thought it would be best to get him introduced whilst Amy is still here, and you know how busy the team has been the last couple of months. I didn’t want to leave you a woman down.’
‘I have no choice but to be okay with him. It’s not as if you consulted me first.’
‘I guess we all thought Amy would carry on working until she went into labour.’
Ben had to give it to him, they had been so overwhelmed with the number of cases that he had let his duty to Amy slip in more ways than one, and he was going to feel bad about that forever.
In all fairness to Amy, she had proved herself even tougher than she came across.
She could have gone sick after the trauma of being held hostage by Gordon Wells, but she hadn’t.
She’d taken a couple of days off and then strolled back into work, as if she hadn’t just been through the most traumatic experience of her life.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to have such an amazing team of detectives working for him, who also happened to be the loveliest of human beings too.
‘It’s fine, it really is. Just a bit of a surprise that’s all. As long as he’s going to fit in and not cause major problems, that’s all I’m concerned about.’
‘He’s a great guy, very sincere, not full of himself. I don’t know how much experience he’s had with murder cases, but I guess what he’s lacking on that front he’ll soon make up for because you know what this place is like.’
The narrow lane that led to the old coffin road was bumpy; Ben wasn’t sure that Morgan would get this far in a normal div car.
There was a quad bike parked a little further along the road, with a guy on it who waved at them.
‘Must be the farmer who rang it in.’
Ben had to stop his eyes from rolling in Marc’s direction.
It was obviously the guy who’d rung it in.
He gave himself a shake; he needed to get his act together and stop acting like a sulky sixteen-year-old; he knew he wasn’t being the most professional.
Ben stopped the 4x4 and jumped out. As he got closer to the quad bike, he noticed that the guy was completely grey, and his weathered skin was tanned; he had the look of someone who had spent his entire life working outdoors.
As he walked to meet Ben, he estimated that the guy must be at least in his late sixties.
‘DS Ben Matthews and DI Marc Howard.’
The guy held out his huge, calloused hand. ‘Joss Graham, sorry to have to call you out like this.’
Ben shook his hand; Marc did the same.
‘It said on the log you didn’t see a body, but think there is one. Can you explain that a little more?’ asked Ben.
‘I’m a fourth-generation farmer, was born on a farm and spend just about every day on it, except for the holiday we just had to visit our new grandson.
I know the smell of death, when something is decomposing, and before you ask, no I don’t have experience with dead bodies, but a lot of dead animals over the years.
It’s that sickly sweet rotting smell that you can’t get out of your sinuses no matter how hard you inhale on a Vicks cold and flu stick. ’
Ben smiled at him; the guy wasn’t wrong. ‘Is it far?’
He shook his head. ‘Half a mile further up, but the road gets bumpy. Glad you brought a suitable vehicle, or you’d be walking up there.’
‘I just need to hang on for my colleague who shouldn’t be too—’ He didn’t finish his sentence because the white Ford Focus Morgan was driving rounded the bend. He waved at her, while looking intently at the guy in the passenger seat. Both of them got out of the car.
Ben didn’t know Tristan, had never worked with him, but he felt a twinge of something deep inside his gut at just how good-looking the guy was.
He looked as if he’d just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot.
He put Marc to shame. Ben couldn’t help glancing at Morgan, wondering if she was overly impressed.
Marc nodded at them.
‘Jump in, you’re not going to be able to get up there in that.’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Tristan, and he smiled at Ben.
Ben smiled back.
‘Tristan, this is Ben, your new DS, we’ll do some proper introductions later.’
The farmer had already set off, and Ben was keen to follow him.
Luckily, both he and Morgan had recently completed their off-road course that allowed them to drive four-wheel drive vehicles over rugged terrain.
Marc would no doubt sign up to do his after this, and he wondered if Tristan had his off-road driving authority.
The purple Land Rover came into view with its roof tent up.
Set against the dramatic background of Blencathra, it looked as if it could have been an Instagram advertisement for wild camping.
Ben stored that thought. He would ask Morgan to check out Instagram and Facebook; damn it, Amy usually did this kind of stuff.
He was going to miss having her to rely on.
Morgan leaned forward.
‘That looks amazing, what a great place to camp. Especially with one of those, you don’t even have to mess around putting a tent up. It’s a genius idea whoever thought of it.’
‘Car tents have actually been around since the fifties, but they didn’t really take off back then. You wouldn’t catch me up here camping on my own. It’s too far away from civilisation.’ Tristan was shaking his head.
She turned to him. ‘Where would you rather be, in a busy campsite?’
He laughed. ‘In a five-star hotel, with a soft bed, lots of pillows and room service. Camping is not my thing at all; I’m not one for the great outdoors full stop.’
Ben stopped the car and all four of them got out. ‘I don’t know if we have any kit in the back of this. Sorry, I didn’t think to check.’
Tristan pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and held them up. ‘I have these.’
Morgan opened the rear door of their vehicle and began rooting around in a box of stuff. Pulling out several packets, she let out a sigh so deep Ben knew what it meant.
‘They are all size small, what a surprise.’
The farmer stood to one side, while the rest of them watched her.
Ben said, ‘Sorry.’
She didn’t reply but began to tear open the packet with the white crime-scene suit inside it. Everyone turned away even though she was tugging it on top of the clothes she was wearing. She put bootees over her Docs and pulled gloves out of the almost empty box.
‘If you kind of walk around the not obvious route to the ladder it might help preserve any forensics.’
She glared at Ben, and he shut up. Morgan knew better than any of them the correct way to approach a crime scene.
‘How do we even know there’s a body in there?’
‘Joss said he knows the smell of decomp, so let’s assume the worst.’
The sun was warm, and Ben couldn’t help thinking that it would be awful if whoever was inside the tent had perished all alone.
Morgan reached the 4x4 and turned to look at him.
‘I can’t reach unless I use the ladder, I’m not tall enough.’
Marc shouted, ‘Stop.’
Everyone looked at him.
‘What if there are prints on the ladder? We could be jeopardising everything.’
Morgan caught a whiff of decay carried on the breeze and felt her stomach muscles clench tight. The smell was emanating from the tent. It didn’t matter how many times she was faced with the stench of death, it had the same effect on her.
‘Well, I think Joss is right. Something dead is up there, so how are we going to determine who it is and what they died of, if we’re standing here all day twiddling our thumbs?’
‘What if I drive the quad bike as near as possible and you stand on that?’ offered Joss.
Ben looked at the large bike that would surely mess up the scene even more than Morgan.
‘Thanks, Joss, but it’s okay. Morgan, you’re going to have to climb up and we’ll deal with the consequences later.’
Marc shook his head. ‘By consequences you mean Wendy.’
Ben shrugged. ‘Same thing.’
Morgan stood on the ladder, only going as far up as she could reach the zipper to the tent.
Ben watched, not realising he was holding his breath until she tugged it down and a cloud of decomp and bluebottles filled the air, making Morgan almost lose her balance. Tristan cupped a hand across his mouth.
Morgan clung on to the side of the narrow aluminium ladder and turned on the torch she’d tugged from her pocket, staring into the blackness inside then nodding emphatically.
She climbed back down.
‘There’s a body in there. A woman, red hair, a lot of insects.’ She was far enough away from the Land Rover to bend over and suck in a deep breath of fresh air to try and rid her lungs of the smell.
‘Could you make out how she died?’ Ben asked, his voice almost hesitant, as if not sure he wanted to know the answer.
‘Knife through her chest. There’s blood inside that’s dried up. She’s been there a while.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Tristan.
‘Because most of her face has been eaten away by the maggots.’
Tristan’s tanned complexion turned a deathly pale colour as he turned away from her and jogged a short distance, his hand still cupped over his mouth, and vomited into a gorse bush.
Ben thought about all the ways he could have spent his first day back in work after his glorious trip to NYC. He’d envisioned catching up on a multitude of emails and being filled in by Cain on all the station gossip he’d missed. Murder was not even remotely on that list.
‘Thanks, Morgan, right, let’s do this.’
Ben’s heart sank as he tugged the radio out of his pocket and began to request CSI and a pathologist, as well as officers to come guard the track up to the scene.
This was going to be a nightmare; they had no way of knowing how long she’d been dead until the post-mortem.
There was not a single house in sight, and it was so off the beaten track he didn’t know if anyone used the road apart from the odd fell walker or mountain biker.
He could feel a migraine about to descend upon him, and he heard Morgan whisper in his ear, ‘Here we go again, welcome back, boss, it’s like we never even left. ’