The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird Page 2

  ‘Do we have an ID on the young woman?’

  ‘You know when you think a case can’t possibly get any worse? I may be wrong on this, Ted,’ Sergeant Morgan slipping into informality let Ted know he was on his own and couldn’t be overheard, ‘but I’ve found documents which suggest the young woman is Abigail Buller. And if I’m right, she’s the daughter of a Cheshire County Councillor. One of those “the police have plenty of resources, it’s just bad management if they can’t use them efficiently” types.

  ‘If that is who she is, I happen to know that she was left disabled after some preventable childhood illness or another because the parents were trendy campaigners against vaccines with the supposed dangers of them. She’s at least early twenties now, I’m pretty sure, but not functioning at that level. So anything to do with the councillor’s daughter is going to be one big prickly hot potato. Especially as, at the moment, she looks like being your prime suspect for a possible murder.’

  Ted let out a low groan and looked longingly at Kevin’s empty whisky glass. He’d never been a whisky drinker but right now he could really fancy something a bit stronger than his habitual Gunner. The job was hard enough these days, without politics coming into it.

  Eric Morgan was still talking. ‘Now, I know us humble Woodentops are supposed to do all the initial legwork and only call on the mighty CID to ride to the rescue on their white chargers if we get out of our depth. But I’m telling you now, Ted. This is way above my pay-grade. As soon as there’s any hint of politics, I’m passing the buck. And I’ve not even told you all of the bad news yet.’

  He paused, while Ted inwardly groaned once more.

  ‘I happen to know Doug’s gone off on sick leave. So you won’t have him as Crime Scene Manager. So all in all, I can’t wait to hand this one over.’ He paused, then added an ironic, ‘Guv.’

  Kevin was just finishing up his call, making a rueful face at Ted, who guessed he had probably been told most of the same facts.

  ‘I’ll come over myself, Eric. At least to do an initial assessment. Do we know if this Abigail signs, if she’s deaf? Do I need to arrange a sign language interpreter?’

  ‘I have tried to engage with her but I’m not getting very far. I’ve requested a female officer and Susan Heap’s on her way, in case Abigail relates better to a woman. I’ll hold the fort until you get here but seriously, this is definitely one for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Eric, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘Right you are, Ted. At least you know I won’t puke on your crime scene while I’m waiting for you to turn up.’

  ‘Well, that all sounds like a lot of fun,’ Kev commented as Ted ended his call. ‘That was Irene, just giving me the heads-up on what was going on as I’m back in tomorrow. Who are you sending?’

  ‘I think I’d better go myself, initially. Maybe a bit of rank might pacify Councillor Buller, at least. I take it Irene mentioned that’s who seems to be the father of our presumed suspect?’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll owe your Trev another holiday? Picking up something like this just before the weekend?’

  ‘I’ll get away with it this evening. He’s gone out on a social night with some of his English students. He’ll be late back himself. And feeling mellow, with any luck.’

  Kev drained his pint then stood up.

  ‘I’m going to escape while I can. Good luck with it all.’

  Ted’s phone rang again. DC Jezza Vine calling him.

  ‘Boss, you’ve heard, I take it? There’s just me left in, so do you want me to go straight round?’

  ‘I’m going to go myself, Jezza, given the political sensitivity around who the potential suspect seems to be. I’m round at The Grapes at the moment, but if you get my service car, you can pick me up on the way.’

  ‘Well, from the few details I’ve heard so far, it looks like this one is going to be a barrel of laughs. A several days old corpse could turn out to be the least of our worries. I’ll see you in five minutes, boss.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘You’ve got the address?’ Ted asked, as he slid into the passenger seat of his service vehicle next to Jezza, at the wheel.

  She turned to him and rolled her eyes theatrically.

  ‘No, boss, I’m going to do it all telepathically, reading your thought processes as I drive.’

  Ted suppressed a smile. He was used to Jezza by now, but he could see why some senior officers in the past had found her hard to manage.

  ‘I walked right into that one,’ he conceded. ‘Have you got cover for Tommy? Or I suppose you’re going to tell me you just let him roam the streets alone at night when you’re on a shout?’

  It was Jezza’s turn to smile at the boss’s humour. Her autistic younger brother, who had lived with her since they were both orphaned, could present her with problems from time to time.

  ‘Nat’s taken him to a quiz night,’ she told him. ‘He’ll no doubt be the youngest team member there and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he’s thrashed everyone. Nat’s a great influence on him. They’ve really hit it off. It’s even working out now Nat’s moved in and I was worried it might not.’

  Ted was looking at her shrewdly.

  ‘And are you all right, though, Jezza? Is everything all right with you? Only, I don’t mean to sound personal or intrude on your private life, but you’re looking a bit tired.’

  Jezza shrugged. ‘You know what Tom can be like with his endless questions. Usually in the middle of the night. You perhaps can’t imagine how much worse that’s been with a quiz coming up and him wanting to be perfect. But I’m fine, thank you. Thanks for asking, boss.’

  They drove the rest of the short distance in companionable silence. Their destination was a converted former mill, red brick, now containing expensive private apartments. As Ted and Jezza both knew, violent crime, if that was what this case turned out to be, was no respecter of wealth or of status.

  There was a marked police vehicle in front of the building, plus vehicles from the Crime Scene Investigation team, who were just setting up. The young probationer had been relegated to the main entrance, checking the identity of anyone arriving, turning away all but verified residents. He still looked pale. Ted knew him by sight, had seen him around the station a time or two, although he was new. He clearly knew exactly who Ted was and snapped to attention at the sight of a senior officer arriving.

  Ted produced his identity, for form’s sake, and spoke quietly to him.

  ‘Stuart, isn’t it? No need for that, but thank you. Are you all right now?’

  ‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I’m sorry I threw up on the scene, sir.’

  ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.’

  The flat was on the first floor. Ted and Jezza opted for the stairs rather than the lift. As they fell into step side by side, Ted asked, ‘Does it make me sound ancient if I say I wonder if his mam knows he’s going to be out late tonight?’

  ‘Positively antediluvian, boss.’

  They’d reached the first floor landing. In the hallway to their left, they could see PC Jack Hargreaves standing guard over a front door. Clearly their potential crime scene.

  ‘Guv, Jezza,’ he greeted them. ‘CSI have just arrived and are setting up. I should warn you, it smells bad. I mean really bad. You can probably get a whiff from here but it’s much worse inside. Susan’s with the young lady. She’s taken her into the lounge, but that’s about all I can tell you for now. Oh, and Sergeant Morgan has left. He got called away on an urgent shout. He left Stuart behind, but outside so he shouldn’t throw up any more.’

  Ted signed them both in, then reached for his Fisherman’s Friends. Jack hadn’t been wrong about the smell. No wonder neighbours had reported the incident. He offered Jezza a lozenge but she shook her head, a hint of scorn at the mere suggestion she would need one.

  They both put on gloves and shoe covers from the box outside the apartment. Ted paused before going in to have a close look at the front door fr
om both sides. He’d noticed the glass spy hole in the wood which would give a clear view of anyone outside. There were solid security bolts and a safety chain on the inside.

  He pulled the door towards him with a gloved hand to check the angle of coverage from the viewer. A voice, female, which he didn’t recognise, bellowed from the interior, ‘Don’t touch anything on my crime scene!’

  Jezza, like all of Ted’s team members, knew of his fondness for the film Blazing Saddles. She’d watched it a couple of times, to analyse his fascination with it. She paraphrased a line from it now, under her breath, so only the boss could hear her.

  ‘Boy, is she strict.’

  Ted once again had to hide his amusement as he weighed up the woman walking towards them. He couldn’t see much of her behind the coveralls and mask, just intensely dark eyes, which looked angry. Ted was short, but she was smaller. He put her at about five feet two.

  ‘I’m Priya Chowdhury, the Crime Scene Manager. And you are?’

  ‘DCI Ted Darling, from Stockport. I’m here to find out if this is a case for us.’

  ‘Well, you should know better than to come trampling in without liaising with me first. One of your Woodentops has already thrown up all over everywhere, which only goes to make our job harder.’

  Ted’s voice was even quieter than usual when he replied to her. Jezza was looking from one to another. Like a spectator at a tennis match. Waiting for the boss’s next volley.

  ‘I’m sorry if one of our officers made your job more difficult. He’s young, on his first sudden death, and this is clearly a gruesome one to start on. But perhaps you would please refer to Uniform officers in a more respectful manner. Especially as, if this does turn out to be a case for us, I’m likely to be the SIO on it, so we may well have to work together. A bit of mutual courtesy would help, in that case, Ms Chowdhury.

  ‘So what can you tell me about it so far, please?’

  She was quiet for a moment, eyeing him up, still bristling and hostile. Then she went on, ‘Not a lot at this stage. An as yet unidentified male person dead in the kitchen. Face down. No visible wounds to the rear. The body has been there for a few days at least and we haven’t yet touched it at all. The coroner’s office are sending out a pathologist to view the body in situ, then we might be able to give you a better idea of whether or not we’re dealing with a homicide here.

  ‘The only other person present is a young woman who appears to be the main occupant of the flat. She’s in that room there with another of your officers.’

  ‘Thank you, Ms Chowdhury. We’ll go and talk to them shortly. First I would just like to view the body, even if only from a distance. I imagine you have stepping plates out already. If not, just tell me where it’s safe to stand, please.’

  His polite manner seemed to unsettle her. He wondered if her brittle exterior was born of having to deal with too many old-school macho types who no doubt had made jibes about her gender, her height and her ethnicity, when they thought they could get away with it.

  He followed her to just inside the kitchen, Jezza at his heels, stepping where they were told to. The smell became overpowering the nearer they got to where the body lay. Ted heard Jezza give a groan and a retch as she pivoted on her feet and bolted for the open front door. He was glad of the strong menthol smell and taste of his lozenge. It helped a bit.

  ‘Based on your experience, Ms Chowdhury, could you please give me at least an estimate of how long the body’s been here?’

  ‘You’ll need to ask the pathologist that,’ she said stiffly, then, seemingly mollified somewhat by his manners, if nothing else, she said grudgingly, ‘but if I have to take a guess, I would say between five and seven days.’

  Ted went first to find Jezza, who was taking deep breaths of the cleaner air outside the front door. Wordlessly, he offered her a lozenge, which this time, she accepted gratefully.

  ‘Sorry, boss, but the smell was something else in there. Especially with that flowery smell on top of it. How could someone just leave the body lying there in that state?’

  ‘That’s what we need to try to establish. So if you’re up to going back in, we should go and talk to the occupant.’

  Ted stood aside to let her go in first. They both headed to the open door which revealed a bright living room which should have been airy and pleasant. Instead it was in a state of dirty disarray. PC Susan Heap was standing near the door. A young woman was sitting on the sofa, her face placid, expressionless. Ted greeted them both, but only Susan replied to him.

  ‘Boss, this is the occupant of the flat. I think it’s Abigail Buller, but I’m not having much luck communicating with her.’

  ‘Sign language?’

  ‘I only know “hello, my name is Susan”, but that didn’t get all that much of a reaction and I didn’t understand what she was trying to say in reply. I think there may be some comprehension issues, not just the hearing difficulties. It’s just possible my uniform intimidated her, of course.’

  Jezza stepped forward, walked over to where the young woman was sitting. She made a gesture like a brief sideways wave, then three more rapid hand movements as she said distinctly, ‘Hello, my name is Jezza,’ drawing a letter J on the palm of her hand with one finger as she said it.

  The young woman’s face broke into a beaming smile as she returned the wave and repeated the hand movements, speaking indistinctly as she replied, ‘A-a-a-b-b-b-i,’ touching her thumb as she made the A sound.

  ‘Do you need some help?’ Jezza asked her, putting one hand under her other one which was closed into a fist, lifting it and moving both towards Abi.

  Again the broad smile, this time with an enthusiastic nod of the head, a closed fist held up and tipped forward as she did so. She repeated Jezza’s hand-lifting gesture, then put her flat hand to her chin and moved it forward and down, at the same time saying what sounded like ‘ep, ease.’ Then she moved her right hand to her left shoulder and made a brushing gesture with her middle finger.

  ‘You need the toilet? Okay, we can arrange that for you.’

  She looked to Ted for instruction.

  ‘Susan, please could you take Abi to the bathroom, and stay with her?’

  Once they were alone, Ted turned to Jezza.

  ‘I didn’t know you knew sign language.’

  ‘That was Makaton, boss. A simplified form. And as that’s about the sum total of what I do know, it’s not going to get us very far in a potential suspect interview.

  ‘Long story short, Tommy wanted to try riding. But because of his special needs and tendency to meltdowns when things don’t go how he expects, only the local Riding for the Disabled group would take him. I went with him a few times, hence learning the Makaton basics, which some of the riders and helpers use. Tommy soon got bored. Being Tom, he thought he’d be galloping and jumping in the first lesson and when he wasn’t, he quickly lost interest. But I kept going for a bit, as a helper.’

  ‘Well, it’s helped us already. At least she got to go to the bathroom when she needed to. I’ll give the station a quick ring, see if they can find us someone who knows more Makaton. We’re going to have to jump through hoops to do any kind of PACE-compliant interview with her in the circumstances. I don’t suppose your horsey Makaton runs to issuing a caution, should we need to.

  ‘I’m also going to phone one or other of the bosses for some guidance on this. Can you please see if there’s anything else at all you can get out of her, but carefully, of course. In the meantime, get Susan to film anything she might say on her body-cam, please. But Jezza, if she happens to say anything incriminatory, stop straight away.’

  Jezza looked uncertain. ‘Boss, I’m a bit uncomfortable with the whole idea of that. I really don’t know enough Makaton to understand if she suddenly confesses to a murder. It’s not something which came up in RDA sessions, funnily enough. And her speech is so indistinct I’m not sure I’d know from that. Are you sure we shouldn’t just take her straight to the nick, then wait for a proper Mak
aton person? And while we’re on that subject, should we not get her checked out by the doctor before we ask her anything? We really don’t want to get this one wrong.’

  ‘We, or more precisely, you, Jezza, are still going to have to try to explain to her that we need to take her to the station, though.’

  Jezza sighed.

  ‘I know the sign for home, which is the same as house. So I should be able to check that this is her home. And then I suppose if I point to Susan’s uniform and say we need to take her to the police house she should understand. I can look online for some more signs which might help. I just don’t want to find myself deep in the shit if I get it wrong.’

  ‘You won’t, Jezza, I promise you that. I’m the senior officer, so it’s my neck on the block if I’ve got it wrong. I’ll go and make the calls. Just do whatever you can, please.’

  Ted stood aside in the hallway to allow Susan and Abigail to return to the living room. Susan spoke quietly to him as they passed.

  ‘Sir, we need to be so careful here. She’s not functioning at adult level at all.’

  ‘I know, Susan, thank you. I’m on it.’

  He stepped out onto the landing and found a quiet corner. Luckily there was no one around. Not even curious faces looking out of the doors of their own flats. Hopefully at this time on a Friday evening, the people likely to occupy apartments in the price-range of the building were probably all out enjoying end of the week drinks and meals with friends and colleagues.

  He phoned Superintendent Jim Baker first. He had plenty of experience in murder cases, and if this was one, it would come under his remit as Head of Serious Crime.

  Big Jim listened in silence as Ted outlined what he knew, as succinctly as he could. Then he growled, ‘Bloody hell, Ted. That’s all we need. I know that twat Buller. I’ve seen him in action on a few committees and he’s a nasty piece of work. It would have to be his bloody daughter. For god’s sake be careful how you handle it.’