Chapter 9
829 Words
9
The scene at Little Walgrave was much calmer when Jack Culverhouse and Wendy Knight returned later that morning. The sun had started to rise and the scale of the devastation was now starting to become clear.
‘It’s round the back,’ the fire officer said, beckoning them to follow him. ‘We’ve not moved him. Fortunately the fire never properly reached the back of the house, so we were able to leave him in situ.’
‘And it was the fall that did it?’ Wendy asked.
‘You tell me. Not my area of expertise I’m afraid, but it certainly didn’t do him any good judging by the mess he made. Looks to me as if he was trying to jump into the pool. There’s a pair of french windows on one of the upper floors that were open. Some of the other windows had blown out, but those look like they were physically opened. Again, it’s not my place to say, but if you ask me I reckon that’s where he jumped from. It’s two floors up, so missing and hitting the concrete would probably have done the job.’
Wendy shook her head as she imagined the scene. Would she rather burn to death in a fire or die from trying — and failing — to escape it?
The back of the house was even more impressive than the front, being set within sprawling grounds that couldn’t realistically be called a garden. The pool was huge, and the water rippled gently in the rising light, as if oblivious to what had happened here only recently.
‘Bloody hell, you don’t hang about do you?’ Culverhouse called over to Dr Janet Grey, the pathologist, who was talking to a fully white-suited forensics officer outside the huge white tent that had been erected over the body.
‘Always preferable to having your trained chimps trampling all over my evidence, Detective Chief Inspector. And good morning to you too.’
The friendly banter between Culverhouse and Grey had been going on for a number of years. Culverhouse occasionally fancied that he could see himself getting on well with a woman like Grey outside of work, but it wasn’t a possibility he ever seriously entertained.
‘Our evidence, Dr Grey. You’ll have to learn to share. What’ve we got?’
‘You already know what we’ve got, which is why you’re here. Deceased male in his late sixties — identity known to you, I believe — death appears to have been caused by multiple heavy trauma. Probably from jumping out of there,’ she said, pointing to the second-floor balcony. ‘I’m sure the post mortem will find smoke in his lungs, but that’s to be expected.’
‘Any chance he didn’t jump voluntarily?’ Culverhouse asked.
‘Well, if he didn’t his assailant will be a shoe-in for the hammer throw at the Olympics. He’s cleared a fair lateral distance for someone who just fell. Or was pushed. But either way I don’t suppose it matters. If he was jumping because of the fire and the fire was caused by arson, someone else is responsible for his death either way. It’ll be another black mark on his rap sheet when you catch him.’
‘Or her.’
‘Oh no,’ the pathologist replied, smiling sweetly at Culverhouse. ‘Ladies would never do such a thing. We’re all tucked up in bed at that time of night after a long day cleaning and ironing, aren’t we Detective Sergeant Knight?’
‘Perhaps I might be tempted. If I owned an iron,’ Wendy joked.
‘Any other signs of anything?’ Culverhouse asked, ignoring their jibes.
‘Bit early to say just yet, but I can’t see any other signs of trauma. I think we can probably rule out a fight or any sort of altercation. His eyes were open when he hit the deck so he was probably conscious at the time. Again, we’ll be able to confirm all that during the post mortem, as well as checking for any sort of chemical foul play. Why, what other signs are you looking for?’
Jack exchanged a glance with Wendy before he spoke. ‘Well, let’s just say I don’t think anything would surprise me. The bloke you’ve got in there,’ he said, jabbing a finger towards the tent, ‘didn’t exactly spend his life making friends. I can imagine one or two people might’ve wanted to make sure he’d gone to meet his maker — whichever sort of sick bastard would want to make someone like him.’
‘Arson would be a bit risky, though, wouldn’t it?’ Dr Grey said. ‘I mean, if you want someone dead there are much better ways. Especially considering the time of night the fire happened, and the fact it was started at the front door, quite a long way away from the bedroom he jumped out of. Seems like sheer luck that he missed the pool and died.’
‘Maybe they weren’t trying to kill him,’ Wendy offered. ‘Maybe they just wanted to burn his house down and cause him some damage. A warning, perhaps.’
‘Some f*****g warning,’ Culverhouse remarked, looking up at the charred remains of the once-impressive building.
‘Yeah, well, maybe things just got out of hand. Can’t always predict what fire’s going to do.’
‘Either way, it’s irrelevant at the moment. What we do know is that someone deliberately set fire to this house and that Freddie Galloway died as a result. We’re looking at aggravated arson and manslaughter. Minimum.’
‘Do you want to see the body?’ Janet Grey asked.
‘No thanks. Not had my breakfast yet. Email me the photos later. Should perk my afternoon right up.’
- Writer
