Body by the Docks: detectives investigate a baffling mystery Read online

  BODY BY THE DOCKS

  detectives investigate a baffling mystery

  DIANE M. DICKSON

  Published by

  THE BOOK FOLKS

  London, 2021

  © Diane M. Dickson

  Other novels by Diane Dickson published by The Book Folks:

  In this series:

  Body on the Shore (Book 1)

  Body out of Place (Book 3)

  Featuring DI Tanya Miller:

  BROKEN ANGEL (Book 1)

  BURNING GREED (Book 2)

  BRUTAL PURSUIT (Book 3)

  BRAZEN ESCAPE (Book 4)

  BLURRED LINES (Book 5)

  Thrillers and romance:

  LEAVING GEORGE

  WHO FOLLOWS

  LAYERS OF LIES

  PICTURES OF YOU

  YOU’RE DEAD

  THE GRAVE

  DEPTHS OF DECEPTION

  SINGLE TO EDINBURGH

  TWIST OF TRUTH

  TANGLED TRUTH

  BONE BABY

  Polite note to the reader

  This book is written in British English except where fidelity to other languages or accents is appropriate.

  You are invited to visit www.thebookfolks.com and sign up to our mailing list to hear about new releases, free book promotions and other special offers.

  We hope you enjoy the book.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  List of characters

  More in this series

  Other titles of interest

  Free books in your inbox

  Prologue

  The baby had been crying for over an hour. He was teething. His cheeks were bright red and every time Molly thought she’d soothed him, and his eyes began to close, something would disturb him. A door slamming nearby, noise in the street outside, cars or people just under the window, and off he’d go again. She was worn out, hadn’t had a decent sleep for over a week. That lad next door was going to get a piece of her mind. Just when Jakey began to feel heavy in her arms, just as his little fingers started to uncurl and his breathing deepened and slowed, stupid Mike revved up the bloody bike and Jakey began screaming again.

  Molly pulled the Thomas the Tank Engine curtains to one side and looked out of the window. It was still daylight and it was still warm. She smiled a little and shook her head. It wasn’t fair to blame Mike. What would a teenager know about teething babies? Ha! She did though. She was probably less than a year older than him herself, but there, she’d made her bed and she would lie in it.

  She jiggled her son gently in her arms. He was hot and sweaty. She took him down the narrow stairs and through the hall, intending to stand outside and maybe cool him down. The living room door was closed. “Mam, I’m going to stand in the front a bit. Mam. Mam.”

  There was no answer. She didn’t go into the room. There would be a huff and a tut and the look that said she was failing.

  Molly sighed. Her mother had been complaining about the baby. She’d been sulking a bit. “I’ve been through this already, four times. I brought you lot up and I didn’t think to be doing it again.” But Molly knew she didn’t mean anything, she was happy having her and little Jakey staying there. She hadn’t been well, that’s what it was. Her heart trouble was playing up and they were all worrying about the diabetes. There was always something niggling away, making her worry.

  She called through the door. “I’m sorry, Mam. I’ll take him out in the pram for a bit, give you a break.”

  Mam’s bag was on the hook by the door, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere without it. The kitchen was tidy, the worktops wiped, all the pots put away and Jakey’s high chair pushed back into the corner. “Mam,” she called out again but there was still no response. Oh well, she’d pour her a glass of sherry later and they’d have a bit of a laugh.

  Molly walked for an hour. Back and forth through the streets, there wasn’t much to pass for countryside in this part of Liverpool. It didn’t bother her, it was what she was used to, and she enjoyed it. There were still children playing out, people coming home from work and life to look at. Jakey lay back in his pram drooling over his plastic teething toy. Poor little thing. She’d put some gel on his gums when she got back and hope for the best. Maybe if he was still as bad next week she’d go and stay with their Sandra, give Mam a bit of peace. She had the appointment at the hospital on Monday, but Sandra was going with her, no point taking Jakey there.

  The lights were still out when she arrived back at their house. There was a small shiver of unease inside. She hadn’t checked her mother’s bedroom before she went out. What if she was ill, what if… no – she wouldn’t think that. By the time she had trundled the buggy into the silent hallway she felt a little panicked. Leaving the baby in the pram she ran up the stairs, stopped outside the bedroom door and took a breath. It was okay, it was all okay. She knocked once and walked in.

  The room was tidy, everything as it should be. The flowered dressing gown was thrown across the bed, her nightie folded on the pillow. Molly snorted out a little laugh. She was a daft cow. She pulled the door closed behind her and went back downstairs. Jakey had fallen asleep now. She’d leave him where he was. They could have a little drink and watch the TV for a bit.

  The television wasn’t on, the lights were out, and the room was empty.

  Chapter 1

  Detective Inspector Jordan Carr stood up and flexed his legs. He’d been crouching over the grim remains too long. He rubbed at his thighs to ease the tension, pulled off the blue nitrile gloves and tucked them into his pocket and walked back along the safe route which had been marked out with stepping plates. The paper scene suit rustled as he moved, it’d be good to get it off. “That’s nasty.” He half turned to address Terry Denn who was following, and struggling to remove h
is own protective clothing.

  “Very grim, boss. Going to be a horrible job trying to identify it.”

  “Yeah. That’s probably the whole point of the burning. Well, part of the reason. I think plenty of people now believe it’ll destroy evidence – prints obviously but DNA as well.”

  “That’s a shame, given how much we rely on it.”

  “I don’t think it’s true though. From what I’ve read it can still be detected even after exposure to heat. Anyway, Phil Grant’ll be able to tell us and you can bet if there’s something there she’ll find it.”

  They turned to look behind them to where the slender shape of the medical examiner could be seen as a moving shadow on the plastic walls of the crime scene tent.

  “We know it was a woman,” Jordan said, “from the unburned parts, I’d say she wasn’t young. They weren’t a young woman’s shoes. The skirt was dark-coloured as well, what was left of it. It was long and pleated and just not fashionable.”

  “Unless it was someone cross-dressing or transgender,” Terry muttered.

  “It’s always possible I suppose, and as with everything else we must keep it in mind. Okay, let’s just say the unburned parts of the legs appeared to be a woman.” Jordan stopped speaking and looked around at the backs of the houses and the debris scattered across the abandoned building site. “No point speculating too much right now, anyway. We’ll find out when Dr Grant gets her back to the mortuary. For now, we’ll just get on with the door knocking and have a word with the youngsters who found her.”

  “Two boys and a girl,” Terry told him, “I reckon they were probably out here for a smoke. It’s well known they use the old shed.” He pointed to a dilapidated hut that was somehow managing to stay upright despite the loss of one wall and part of the roof. “The patrol guys said it’s been a problem ever since the building company went bust. Why are kids always drawn to such grotty places?”

  “Well, weren’t you? I know I was. It’s precisely because they’re horrible – they assume no adults will come near. They’re probably right most of the time. I don’t reckon she’s been here too long though. Maybe just today at the most, it’s term time so the kids would be in school, college, whatever.”

  “Aye, the ones who weren’t skiving off,” Terry said.

  “True. They’re old enough for us to speak to them without an adult, unless things start looking dodgy. If there’s any reason to suspect the witnesses didn’t just come across the poor thing by chance, then we back off and go through the motions. Take them back to the station, contact the parents or a responsible adult and what have you. Where are they now?”

  “They’ve taken them away, to wait outside the gates. Did try and persuade them into a car but they weren’t having it, full of nonsense about being carted off.”

  “So, they’re not too broken up about finding a part burned body, at night, in the middle of a field?” Jordan said.

  “Apparently not, just a bit excited. They’d been taking pictures and the uniforms had a hell of a time stopping them uploading to social media. Might not have stopped them in time, to be honest, though they say not. Christ, fancy scrolling through TikTok or Twitter and seeing a picture of your mother or sister in that state.”

  Chapter 2

  DCI Richard Cross had a polystyrene box on his desk. As Jordan stood across from him the stink of curry was nauseating; that and the smear of orange sauce across the senior detective’s chin.

  “I can come back later, sir,” Jordan said.

  “No, you’re fine. I’ve been in meetings all day. All I’ve had are sandwiches and biscuits. Don’t know when I’m supposed to get something proper to eat.”

  Jordan looked at the uniform jacket straining across his boss’s belly and wondered if a couple of missed meals would actually be such a bad thing.

  “So, what have you got?” Cross asked through a mouthful of chicken and rice.

  “A part burned body. Found on an abandoned building site. Female, not young we don’t think. No cause of death yet and no ID. We’re going through the Misper list at the moment. She wasn’t a kid so that might help to narrow it down a bit. It was fairly grim, the hair mostly gone, the eyes and lips. Upper torso, arms, hands pretty much destroyed – just blackened remains really. Cinders.”

  With a groan the DCI closed the top of the curry box and wiped his mouth with a little paper napkin.

  “Bloody hell, Carr. I didn’t need that right now.”

  “Sorry, sir.” It was a struggle, but he managed to keep the grin at bay. “It’s a suspicious death obviously. I’ve got DC Denn organising things. Operation Roedeer. We’re sorting an incident room. I’d like some officers on the ground to do the house-to-house. It’s quite a densely populated area so there’s a chance someone will have seen something. The prospect they’ll talk to us is less, but you never know. The crime scene itself is a small piece of land. Used to be part of a farm but it was sold off some years ago. Building was started and then the builders went bust.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about troops for you. I can’t promise much but we’ve got a couple of new recruits with us, it’ll be a good exercise,” said Cross.

  “No experienced officers?”

  “Probably not. You know the situation we’re in. The government may have promised us more bobbies, but they can’t be produced by magic. Anyway, it’ll be good for you as well to take the new lads by the hand and show ’em how it’s done.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  As he walked back down the corridor it was a fight to keep the frustration at bay. A suspicious death, a poor burned woman and he was offered new recruits doing on-the-job training. He knew they all had to start somewhere, and it was true it was throwing them in at the deep end, which was great. But just once he’d like to feel as though he wasn’t being fobbed off by the boss. It was stupid, he had to convince himself it was nothing to do with him being an outsider, originally from London.

  He had reached the incident room and swung in through the open door. A small dark-haired woman turned to greet him. “Hiya, boss.”

  “Rosalind. Brilliant, are you with me?”

  “Seems so, if you want me.”

  “Yes, I want you. Of course, I want you. Are you fully fit now?”

  “As a flea, sir, passed my medical last week.”

  And suddenly the world was a better place. Rosalind had been new earlier in the year, coming to him as an untried detective and when push had come to shove she had put her body on the line and together they’d triumphed. So, okay he had newcomers, but at least they weren’t jaundiced and bitter. They’d be keen and fresh. He could work with that.

  Terry Denn finished the notes he was entering on the whiteboards and joined them. “I wouldn’t be too happy if I was you, Ros. You do know the weekend’s a write-off. I was going to the match, have to sell the ticket now, I suppose. Were you planning anything, boss? Do you go? To Anfield?”

  “No, never been. I’m not really into football,” Jordan said. “I know you probably find that odd, but we just didn’t. My dad used to take us to the cricket though. He loved his cricket. Anyway, it’s a shame about the weekend. My grandmother, Nana Gloria, is coming up from London. She wants to see the house and spend a bit of time with Harry. She hasn’t seen him for ages. Penny’s been cleaning and scrubbing and all that, but it was supposed to be down to me to do the cooking.”

  “You do that?” Terry said. “I can manage to heat up a tin of soup and that’s about it.”

  “Well, yes, it’s something I do, and she’ll be expecting it. Tomorrow is okay, I’m doing Jamaican oxtail stew. But that’s been all day already, in the slow cooker.”

  “Bloody hell – hidden talents or what?”

  “I learned to cook after my dad died. Mum taught me recipes from home, didn’t want us eating junk anymore. It was nice to have some of her attention all to myself to be honest. With two sisters and two brothers we had to fight for our rights.” He laughed. “Okay i
t wasn’t quite like that but one-on-one time with her in the kitchen was better than knocking about in the street or arguing with the others about what crap to watch on the TV. I’ll cook you something one of these days. I know – when your sergeant’s promotion comes through. We’ll have a get-together with some of the others. Would you be up for that DC Searle?

  “Yeah, you’re on. Shame about your weekend though,” Rosalind Searle said.

  “It is. I miss the family and Nana Gloria sort of saved me from myself when I was a kid. I was going off-piste a bit, running with the wrong crowd, and she sorted me out, brought me back onto the straight and narrow. Her and my mum. We don’t get back very often these days, but I guess it can’t be helped and this poor woman’s family will never be able to spend time with her again so, we should just count our blessings and prioritise this. We’ve got more weekends to look forward to, she hasn’t.”

  Chapter 3

  By now everyone in the area was fully aware of what was going on. Children on bikes, gangs of youths, phone cameras flashing, and a few old men leaning on the creaky fence in the fading light watching the action. Not that they could see much, everything was hidden by the plastic tent. But the word was out, and nobody wanted to miss the departure of the coroner’s van.

  Jordan was surrounded by a small group of uniformed policemen. It was true most of them were young. There were a couple of PCSOs but there were also a couple of older officers hovering around the edges of the group, hoping to avoid being singled out for anything too strenuous. A bit of overtime was welcome, especially if the other option was an empty house or a stool at the pub staring into your glass and wondering where the time had gone.

  “I’ve printed out a list of questions for those of you who haven’t done this before. You can either use it as a guide or, if it’s easier, just hand it over and ask them to read it. You might not always get it back though, so I’ve done a couple for each of you. We need to know if anybody saw this woman, alone or with someone else. Any odd activity on the field, any strange vehicles parked up. It’s all in there. Make notes with names and addresses and so on.”