Page 75 of Twisted Lies

‘It’s a medieval form of torture that was considered to be cheap and effective,’ Keats answered. ‘There are many variants but this is the most common, which is to restrain the victim face up and to place a rat on his naked stomach, covered by some kind of container, which would be gradually heated up. The rat has no other means of escape and would slowly tunnel through the abdomen, causing the victim a slow and agonising death.’

Kim tried to get her head around the wish to cause someone to suffer so horrifically, and who would have a strong enough stomach to watch?

She pulled herself back and focused on the scene. ‘Burn marks?’ she asked, pointing to the red circle around the open wound.

‘Yes, I’d say from some kind of blow torch used to heat the bowl.’

‘Even that would have been bloody painful,’ she said, looking around.

‘Found by Vera Lyndhurst over there,’ he said, nodding towards a slight, middle-aged woman sitting on the ground, still sobbing quietly.

Bryant headed over to take details. Kim already suspected that Vera did not have the physical strength to overpower this man, but everyone had to be ruled out.

‘She’s a volunteer here at the reserve. There’s a few of them from the community who check twice a day that there are no folks in the danger area.’

‘So the last check was?’

‘Five o’clock last night, and I’d say this began not long afterward. The poor fellow suffered for at least ten to twelve hours.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Kim said.

‘Heck of a way to die,’ Keats observed, shaking his head.

Kim took one last look over the body and paused as Bryant returned.

‘Is that a scar?’ she asked, pointing to a thin trail of white leading away from the bloody mess.

‘Appendectomy, probably in childhood,’ Keats confirmed.

She took out her phone just as it began to ring.

‘Just the man, Penn, I need you to start checking mispers straight away.’

She gave him a description of the male, including the scar. She would save the gory details for later.

‘Will do, boss, but I’m ringing to tell you that the guy down south is a witness as well.’

They had all suspected as much by the manner of death.

‘Links to organised crime?’ she asked hopefully. It would give them one clear route to follow. Now, if he too had pissed off the Tyler family in London, they could have this thing solved by teatime.

‘Sorry, boss, not even close. He used to be—’

‘Save it, Penn. We’re on our way back,’ she said, ending the call.

Three bodies in two days. It was time for her team to regroup.

Sixty-Three

Frost sat back; having read through the court transcripts of the investigation, she now understood the sequence of events.

On the third of May, Trisha had called Penny and told her that she and Nick had had a huge row. She’d threatened to leave him, and he’d sworn he would never let that happen. Trisha had cried and told Penny how scared she was but had insisted on no police involvement. They had ended the call with Trisha promising to ring Penny the following day.

Penny had waited until late afternoon before trying to call her sister. The phone had gone to voicemail. She’d left messages before resorting to calling Nick. Nick had stated that when he’d returned from a night out, his wife had been gone. He’d assumed she’d just gone to visit friends or family following an argument. Penny had hounded the police, who had believed Morley’s lies for over a week before investigating further.

Financial records showed no activity on the bank account, and a search of the house had revealed that nothing was missing.

After being told by the phone network that Trisha’s phone hadn’t been used after the phone call with her sister, and that it hadn’t travelled away from the home, the police had finally secured a search warrant of the extensive property, and on the second day they’d found what they were looking for.