Chapter 2 - They Grow Upon The Eyes
Jesus Christ, what a mess .” Inspector Isabelle Cannon emerged from the main entrance to the workshop, a pack of Regal King Size in hand. “I’ve not seen anything like this since the Cheadle Hulme double suicide in 1999.”
Constable Wilkins nodded, “Yes, Ma’am,” and continued to stand guard at the end of the corridor.
“Got a light?” Isabelle extracted a cigarette from its packet and tapped it on the palm of her hand.
“No, Ma’am.”
Isabelle gave the officer a friendly pat on the shoulder and walked back into the brick building where the bodies of Judy Harrington and Jerry London lay.
She stood over Jerry's body, cigarette unlit, hands in her trouser pockets, while the forensic team combed the site for clues.
Sergeant Warner caught Isabelle’s eye and she nodded to him. She looked him up and down as he walked over to join her; he was quite a lush for a thirty-year old. She often joked that they should hook up together as she’d always wanted a toy boy. But she knew better; it would be unprofessional. They flirted nonetheless, without it getting serious.
Warner produced the lighter he always carried, despite having given up smoking years ago and offered the flame to his superior. Isabelle took a long drag on her cigarette and breathed the smoke towards him. “What’ve we got, Sergeant?”
“Two dead. The first is a Jerry London of Atherton Drive Northwich. He has a National Insurance card, a donor card, three credit cards, drives a blue Vauxhall Astra and works stocking shelves at the local hypermarket."
"How do you know all this?"
"His wallet was in his coat pocket along with his car keys, house keys and twenty six pence, all in coppers and fives."
"Any real cash?"
"Thirty quid.”
Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "Not after the money then. So, who's the other poor sap?"
"Name is, or was,” Warner consulted his clipboard, “Judy Harrington, live-in partner of Jerry London. She worked at Securinet which, interestingly enough, is the company that looks after the security of this very building.”
“That is interesting.” Isabelle took another quick drag on her cigarette.
Warner referred to the clipboard once more. “The Canal Company used to police it themselves but contracted it out in 1997."
"Have you had a chat with forensics?"
"Two."
"Didn't you make a note first time? Are you carrying a torch for someone on the forensic team, Sergeant?"
"They don’t have your enigmatic smile, Ma’am."
Isabelle remained stony-faced. "I never smile, Sergeant, except at funerals."
Warner walked across to the body of Judy Harrington and flipped the paper over on his clipboard to reveal the next page. "Forensic's initial guess is that the bodies have been here for forty-five days at least. Death seems to be natural causes, except for four small lesions around the neck. They could be puncture wounds. We'll need to wait for the autopsy to know for sure.
They’re completely dried-out, that’s how they worked out how long the bodies have been holed up in this place."
"Who found them?"
"Kids bunking off school."
"Eighty percent of all murder inquiries start with a man walking his dog or kids being where they're not supposed to be,” said Isabelle. “So, tell me, Sergeant, why did you have to check the details twice?"
"You won’t believe it. Judy Harrington was at work yesterday.”
“I’m sorry?” Isabelle rarely showed surprise, but could not conceal her reaction.
“I checked. Securinet had Judy Harrington down as sick today, but she never phoned in. Hardly surprising, if she’s dead."
"But you've just told me forensics said she's been dead for a month and a half."
"Exactly. I've asked Division to run checks on their movements, credit card usage, friends and family."
Isabelle knelt down beside the body and glanced into Judy’s glazed, lifeless eyes. The skin on her face was taut around the bones, her teeth on display as if someone had attempted to stretch her face over the back of her head. A couple of fingers protruded from the sleeve of her winter coat, deep grey and skeletal. Isabelle tested the body with a pen. Solid. When she gently tapped the corpse’s head, a hollow sound emitted from the dead woman's features. There was no immediate evidence of decomposition; no maggots or decaying odours. Isabelle drew her own conclusions. If Warner was right about Judy Harrington being alive the day before, then somehow she had lost all her bodily fluid overnight. It was a frightening thought. And Jerry London’s corpse lay in a similar condition on the other side of the derelict room.
Isabelle turned to Warner. "What have you picked up?"
The Sergeant scanned his clipboard again. "An interesting haul; a gas stove, three candles, one small Maglite, two notepads, pair of pliers and the pièces de résistances, a digital camera,
Dictaphone and night vision camcorder."
"Ghost hunters." Isabelle took the clipboard from Warner and checked the list. “Two years ago, a couple in Delamere Forest were killed by an escaped mental patient. It turned out they were on a forty eight hour ghost watch and were - what shall I say – unlucky?"
"The wrong place at the wrong time."
"Twenty stab wounds each was more than unlucky." The Inspector handed the clipboard back to Warner and took a deep breath. "The finds? Are they on their way back to the station?"
"They should already be there."
"Call me if you find anything else. If what you've said is true, we have one of two things to worry about." Isabelle strode towards the workshop door.
"And they might be?"
Isabelle stopped and turned slowly. "A murderer or an epidemic."
Read 'They Grow Upon The Eyes' Chapter 1 here
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"I love thrillers with a twist, so if you do this is definitely for you."
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