Episode 4 - Start the week- ...

Monday

True to his word, Chris put together a forensic team to start their research as soon as it was light enough.

They combed the area around where the human bones had been found. One by one, the remains of household pets were retrieved. They were mostly in plastic or wooden containers decorated with photos, their names and those of owners, often in childish handwriting, and some even contained the toys the pets had played with.

It was quite upsetting and the team was glad to stop when dark rainclouds settled over the priory and the light got really bad. Tarpaulin was laid over the site and they went home, arranging to meet later if the weather improved.

Chris chatted to Cleo over the phone, describing the scene. It seemed that the land behind the priory was in regular use as an animal cemetery. They had not removed the little corpses. The forensic team, helped by Mia, had returned the occupants to their burial places. Most of the researchers remembered childhood pets. A lot of memories were recalled at that improvised burial site.

But somehow that experience had a soothing effect on them. The whole business was tragic and sad, not unlike the dark secret of the disappearing monks that was part of the mystique of the priory. Chris said it was the most moving forensic investigation he had ever undertaken. It had changed his life. He would never be the same again.

Mia was upset about the buried pets and in awe of the way the team had worked in companionable silence. She was glad to get back to HQ and concentrate on a report detailing he discovery of quite a large drug cache at a gym. Sometimes it was important to take one’s mind off things, she mused. She had so little to show for months of investigation that being able to write about a success helped her to forget those childish farewells in the priory ground.

Since there were so many little bodies in that patch of earth, Chris was also ready to change his mind about finding the missing skull. Horrific as it all was, he did not think that whoever buried the bones would separate the body from the head. What had happened was the subject of speculation so far, of course. He was sorry if he had upset Cleo.

Cleo was sympathetic and not at all upset, but she would be glad to talk about it all any time Chris wanted to.

“I’ll take you up on that,” said Chris.

“I expect you to,” said Cleo.

***

The rain passed over, but Chris decided not to call the team in again. They had clearly had enough. Instead, he and Ned went back to the dig site to examine areas they had not covered earlier. Stakes were again pushed into the ground and where there was resistance, the turf was cut back and the object causing the resistance was dug out. The skull was found under a small tree that had evidently been planted for that purpose, since the purchase label was still on it.

The find marked the interim end of forensic research at the priory. The little tree was replanted. Chris and Ned drove back to HQ and the skull was reunited with the other remains.

Chris was optimistic about identifying the victim. Since the tree had been replanted and the turf replaced, there was little to show that excavation had taken place. Chris wondered if anyone held vigils at that spot. He would point that possibility out to Gary.

Gary did not appear at the priory during the forensic work. Quite apart from not wanting to be in the way, he was leaving Mia to make any decisions.

At HQ, Chris was anxious to talk to Gary about the available findings. A strategy for identifying the victim and his executioner(s)was needed. Chris would report on any evidence the remains could provide. Chris mentioned the possibility that there would be a night vigil at the burial site. Gary proposed getting traffic cops to look in during the night hours. They would leave their cars in Monkton Way and walk up the hill to the grounds. They would arrest anyone found loitering on the scene.

***

Gary had often experienced think-tanks convened by his predecessor Roger Stone, who was now incidentally his step-father, though that had nothing to do with Gary taking on the administrative post. Roger had tried to persuade him several times to take over before his romance with Grit, Gary and Joe’s mother. Gary had known then that he would hate it. He had not changed his mind, but there was no one else suitable except perhaps for Mia Curlew.

At three p.m., all those involved either actively or potentially in the cannibalism drama  were assembled for a think-tank in the small conference room. Gary summarized what had happened at the priory and handed photos of the site to everyone.

It was clear that the HQ archives would have to be checked for similar events. Colin Peck, archivist and lawyer fascinated by the sheer number of case reports he had had to catalogue and digitalize, was sure he had not come across any such case. But he would do detailed searches if the think-tank would provide him with some keywords. . He did not think it would take long.

Chris had made further progress on the human remains found at the priory. He was processing bone marrow for DNA. Genetic testing could take some days, he explained. He would notify them as soon as he had results, but the analysis could take two weeks and could still be inconclusive.

“That’s one hell of a long time and a pessimistic outlook,” said Gary.

“The remains have been in the ground for a couple of years,” said Chris. “Even a list of missing persons might not get us any nearer the identity. The wait for a DNA test will definitely be shorter than the time that victim was waiting to be dug up.”

“It could be enough time for another victim to be devoured,” said Nigel.

“A gruesome thought,” said Colin.

“Has anyone any idea where we could start looking locally?” Gary asked no one in particular.

“That gay bar in Abbott Street is a dive of indescribable decadence,” said Nigel.

“I hope you don’t go there then,” said Gary.

“I did go there once out of curiosity, but I did not act obtrusively and I don’t keep company with such people,” said Nigel. “Not wanting a close relationship with a woman does not necessarily mean I want to keep company with such kinky guys.”

“Would you go there again on a mission?”

“No, Gary. I might be recognized. Send someone neutral who can be trusted. Colin, for instance.”

“Would you go there, Colin?” Gary asked.

“I can’t see why not, but I’ll take a friend with me.”

“Who?”

“I had a colleague in London. He won’t stand for nonsense, but is shrewd enough to read any signs. I could ask him.”

“At short notice?”

“Overnight if necessary. He studied criminal law and would jump at the chance to do some investigating of his own.”

“OK. Can you call him now?”

Colin got up from the table and went off into the corridor to phone his colleague. Five minutes later he was back with good news.

“He can stay with Julie and me,” Colin said. “He has no court case coming up until December. He’s on the rota for helping people who have no advocate or no money for one. He can take time off, and will be happy to spend a few days helping out in Middlethumpton.”

“Great. What’s his name, Colin? He’ll need insurance and I can see to that today,” said Gary.

“Dr James Wilson. You can give my address. Jim’s a bit of an egghead, but he’s is a great guy to have around.”

“We could meet tomorrow here at noon to discuss strategies, Colin. By then we may even have more idea of who we are looking for. It may be a wild goose chase at that notorious establishment, but we’ve got to start somewhere.”

Joe Butler, Gary’s twin in charge of “Cop’s Corner”, the HQ magazine intended for HQ employees, but ‘leaked’ to aid public intervention hen it was needed, was optimistic that his publication, due out in a day or two, would open people’s eyes to what was going on.”

“Don’t mention cannibalism, please, Joe,” said Gary. “I don’t want us accused of provoking heart attacks.”

“No mention of anything horrifying, I promise,” said Joe, “though the papers are full of horrific war stories and people play brutal wargames on their computers and watch terrible movies in cinemascope while they are eating their supper.” 

“Modern culture. People have seen or heard about so much horror that they are often immune to it,” said Mia, who had been listening quietly and making copious notes, as Nigel also had for the minutes of the meeting that he was expected to write.

“We’ll just ask people missing a friend or relative to come forward even if they have previously reported to the police,” said Joe.

“You make it sound as if we don’t follow up those missing person pleas,” said Gary.

“I’ll make it plain that we have new evidence to support our appeal. Do you have any sort of description I can use in my article, Chris?”

“Male, 5 foot 10, athletic figure, between 25 and 30, good teeth except that his wisdom teeth have been removed  for lack of space.”

“That sounds promising,” said Joe.

“Did you know that removing wisdom teeth is a common way of making sure the rest stay straight. Human jaws have not become narrower, but brains have grown bigger, so teeth often have too little room,” said Chris.

“Can I print that?” said Joe. “It’s splendid trivia! I’ll start a new column and welcome contributions. You get a coin for the suggestion, Chris.”

Joe handed Chris a pound coin, explaining that though it was a theatrical custom and symbolic, it would get people to make suggestions.

Chris was delighted with the idea.

“I can give you a few more items,” he said. “But I really don’t want a reward every time!”

“Back to business, please,” said Gary. “What about the national missing persons register, Nigel? Can you take that on?”

“Glad to, Boss,” said Nigel.

“I think that covers everything then. Thanks for coming and good hunting!”

Gary could not decide if the meeting had been fortuitous. There were so many unanswered questions that he was glad to spend the afternoon doing routine administrative jobs and constructing the minutes with Nigel. They were duly saved in the report file, printed because you never knew when everything digital would disappear and a copy mailed to Cleo so that she could look through it before the nightcap discussion that often led to speculation, but just as often showed the way forward and invariably ended….well, it was often close on midnight by then.

***

“More coffee, or something stronger,” Cleo invited.

“I don’t know how you do it,” said Gary.

“Do what?”

“Cope with all our kids for hours on end.”

“I don’t crawl around the cottage giving piggyback rides, Gary. Do you want Irish coffee or not?”

“Why not? I need something to obliterate the memory of that poor guy’s skeleton.”

“So you did go down to the lab, I assume.”

“For three minutes. I felt I had to.”

“It’s a pity Mr Sloane was not present,” Cleo’s said.

“The meeting was internal, Cleo. I can’t ask strangers to attend. Gisela and Henry were there, but said nothing. Gisela was shocked and Henry was half sloshed. He should never have come back to work. Nigel copes beautifully and that auditor woman keeps tabs on things.”

“And you make the decisions.”

“Someone has to.”

***

At this point, Cleo went into the kitchen to make Irish coffee, which required whipped cream so Gary followed her. The cream was his job. The chat continued.

***

“Middlethumpton is only a small market town, Cleo. Our HQ is a rose by any other name. It doesn’t need a mammoth governing body on the third floor. Henry only came back because his sick leave ended on October 31^st and he won’t last a week. Gisela was muttering something about taking her mother to the seaside to live. I’m sure she’ll go with her.”

“So there’ll just be you left.”

“The budget will be bigger with two fewer managers to pay.”

“I’m surprised those two guys appeared at all,” said Cleo.

“I only invited them out of courtesy and they were there out of curiosity. Neither of them can join in such a discussion. They’ll get the report. I can’t remember ever being invited to one of their meetings, though I should have been. I’m not even sure if there were any.”

”They’re nervous about your new way of doing things,” said Cleo.

”I’m sure they are. Roger was keen on keeping things low-key. In the end it did not help him, and he knew it, but he could not change anything once he had been indicted for the murder his wife had perpetrated. He got off, of course, but that was really the end for him. He pestered me to take over the job after that.”

“None of it would have happened if he hadn’t carried on with that Shirley Temple woman,” said Cleo.

“I expect she made sure he did, and that was literally the death of her.”

After a thoughtful pause, Gary thought he had better get that topic out of the way.

“She was rather gorgeous, actually. I fell for her wiles, too. All she fell for was her career and how to further it. It didn’t take her long to decide that Roger had more to offer.”

“And Eleanor Stone literally finished her off.”

“She did not want Roger, but she did not want to be without hm. Status and respectability were valuable to Eleanor, so she got rid of the person she decided was her rival.”

“That’s no good to her now, Gary. She was sent down for life, And Roger got a divorce, so Shirley had done the damage even if she wasn’t there to enjoy the spoils.”

“The business with Eleanor was over before he met my mother, of course,” said Gary. “I think Roger was trying to find a way to get divorced without having to continue to support Eleanor’s lifestyle.“

“She did him a favour then,” said Cleo above the noise of the cream being whipped.

“And that conjunction is a blessing,” Gary continued.. “Roger and my mother are a perfect match.”

“It may be fashionable for older men to marry women young enough to be their grandchildren, but the women invariably have an axe to grind, Gary, so it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other. Apart from that, old men like have young women around because it revives their egos,” said Cleo as she prepared the Irish coffee.

“Don’t you mean libido?” said Gary. “I think I whipped the cream too long.”

“There’s another carton in the fridge. Leave it liquid. It’ll fit better.”

“I like it frothy.”

“That’s not frothy, Gary. It’s solid!”

“When we are old, are you going to ditch me for someone younger than your daughter, Gary?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet. What about you getting a toy-boy? Eleanor’s lovers were getting younger. I think that’s why keeping up appearances was so important to her.”

“I’ll go a step further and pinch her boyfriend if he’s young enough!”

“That’s an idea. Partners on a plate!”

“Can we change the subject now?” said Cleo, leading the way back to the sofa.

“I think we’d better.”

***

“Sloane rang and said he would be digging at the crack of dawn tomorrow.”

“He won’t. Chris is in charge and it’s the scene of a crime,” said Gary.

“Didn’t Chris comment on Sloane at the meeting?”

“Chris is careful what he says in Henry’s presence since he’s always having to ask for more cash to buy equipment. Henry still thinks a bottle of ink for fingerprints now and again covers forensic needs.”

“Henry should have been put out to graze years ago,” said Cleo. “He’s way behind the times. Poor Chris having to beg for the tools of his trade.”

“Henry has succeeded in putting himself out to graze” said Gary. “I got the impression that Chris was focussed on the DNA identity. He’s had enough dig.”

“So have I, to be truthful,” said Cleo.

***