Condemned, R.C. Bridgestock [most romantic novels TXT] 📗

then maybe we wouldn’t have found out who was responsible for it,’ she said turning to face him briefly, before pushing through the door to see a windowless corridor. They walked past the management offices with their closed doors in silence, their conversation on the subject clearly over.

Mike followed a hurrying Charley through the Incident Room into her office. ‘I get the impression that won’t be our only visit to Raglan’s estate agency.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. It’d be nice to find something to get under his skin so we could rattle his cage. Let’s face it, his going to the house to challenge the Dixons about the rent seems highly improbable. He’s unlikely to intimidate anyone, let alone a couple of armed robbers. They’d eat him alive!’

‘Unless he had something, or someone with him to intimidate, or frighten them?’ suggested Mike.

‘Or he was carrying a gun?’

Inside Charley’s office there were papers and documents piled up on the SIO’s desk ready for her signature. Charley gave priority relating to items that Forensics had examined; then there was a visit to the mortuary to arrange to see what else could be gleaned from the sets of human remains.

Charley was drawn to the formal report on the pagan dagger, and her instinct told her that it would be naive not to research more about the present-day local pagan following. Charley was well aware of the district’s annual Imbolc Gaelic festival, which marked St Brigid’s Day and the end of winter. The traditional event took place between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. When she was younger and had lived in the area, she had always enjoyed the community celebration, while being in awe of the fire-eaters and fire-dancers. The memory of being frightened by the sculptures when walking through the woods near the Standedge Tunnel made her smile. The festival embraced the turning of the year and celebrated the first stirrings of spring, and was imbued with the idea of growth and renewal.

When she had policed the event as a young uniformed officer, she had taken a different viewpoint. Issues concerning health and safety were paramount at the event. Charley was conditioned to be an unbeliever, primarily because of her job, unless evidence was ever to prove otherwise. However, as she had been brought up by folklorists, she also tried to keep an open mind, as she had read too much compelling evidence that could not be explained rationally.

The spell was broken by the arrival of a message on her screen, and her mind instantly switched to thoughts of Lily Pritchard, at St Anne’s Church. She wondered what she might know of local pagan history. She was intrigued to know what the church records might reveal, but with her eye on the clock, and the mortuary to visit, she knew that that line of enquiry would have to wait. Whilst murder investigations required energy, drive, passion and determination, they also needed a vast amount of patience.

She hoped the examination of the bones and remnants of flesh that she was about to witness would reveal more to help them find the killers.

And although the victims had died years apart, Charley had no idea if they were related or not. The DNA analysis would confirm it either way.

Chapter 17

The post-mortem examination of the female skeleton confirmed much of what the police already knew. ‘We’re very lucky, Inspector, to have the skeletal remains intact.’

‘Why’s that?’ said Charley, coffee mug in hand in the anteroom at the mortuary, as Professor Davis Chevelle prepared for the theatre.

‘The osseous labyrinth inside the petrous temporal bone has higher amounts of endogenous DNA than any other skeletal element. A minimally invasive cranial-base drilling method, called C.B.D.M, will enable us to access this area of the temporal bone, from the basal region of a complete skull without, you’ll be pleased to hear, causing damage to the anthropologically important cranial features.’

‘Sounds costly. In simple terms, tell me if I’m wrong, but, am I right in thinking that you intend to drill a small hole carefully, at the rear of the skull?’

‘Isn’t everything costly these days, Inspector?!’ replied the professor.

‘HQ will no doubt be on to me about expenditure, especially in these times of cutbacks, but how can you put a price tag on a murder investigation?’

Annie was at Charley’s side, glad she was distanced from the odour associated with the dissection of bodies by the walls and the pane of glass of the viewing room.

‘There’s a suggestion that there was some discussion about the woman having stabbed herself,’ Charley said.

Professor Chevelle’s eyes found hers. ‘Certainly not. It’s more likely that stabbing yourself in the chest would result in a small, moderately painful wound, minor blood loss, and possible infection, but that’s all.’

Annie stood and demonstrated the action. ‘Even if she used both hands, with force, like this?’

‘It’s actually incredibly difficult to kill yourself by stabbing yourself in the chest hard enough and accurately enough, against your pain and reflexes, to do any real damage. Unless of course you happened to drop dead from the shock, in which case you might succeed.’

‘I guess even if it was possible, we’d have to ask ourselves who laid her out, and built the secondary wall to hide her remains, if it wasn’t the murderer.’ Annie turned to Charley. ‘An accomplice, maybe?’

‘If it was suicide there’d be no need for concealment,’ said Charley, ‘so I think we can safely say she was murdered, but by whom and why, that’s the question. Once we know who she is, then we might have possible suspects by association.’

‘Find out how she lived, and we’ll find out how she died?’ concluded Annie.

‘Exactly,’ said Charley.

‘I guess we can safely say that the murderer is dead by now too, judging by the estimated age of the corpse, so it would seem whoever the killer was, they lived their life without retribution,’ suggested Annie.

‘Maybe so, but it won’t stop us discovering who it was. I want a clean slate on my record. Undetected