Mersey Murder Mysteries Collection - Books 4-6

Chapter 7-1

Paul Ferris had been delighted to welcome his new assistant. Katrina Bellamy expressed herself as being "over the moon" to be appointed as an administrative assistant on the Murder Investigation Team, whose reputation ran before it as a shining beacon of professionalism and success. Standing only just over five feet in height, with a thin but attractive face and auburn hair cut short but stylishly to just above her collar, she"d quickly familiarised herself with Ferris"s way of working, and impressed Ferris in the process.

“You"ll fit in fine, Katrina,” Ferris said as she placed a cup of coffee down on his desk.

“I hope so,” she smiled in return. “I was so pleased to get this job, Sergeant Ferris. When I saw there was an opening to work on the team, I hardly dared hope I"d get it.”

“Well, your experience in the Chief"s office must have helped, and please, call me Paul. I"ve hardly got used to the "sergeant" tag yet.”

“Oh right, and you can call me Kat. Everyone does. I meant to tell D.I. Ross before he introduced me this morning. And yes, working for the Chief Constable"s staff was interesting, but not half as exciting as this might be.”

“Well, you could be right about that, at least,” Ferris replied. “Now, let"s get on with sending these requests to the Spanish and the Portuguese for the passport photos of our phantom scientists.”

“I thought they were doctors?”

“They are, but from the scant information I was able to find on the internet, they all seem to be research based rather than anything directly referring to patient care, so I would refer to them as scientists rather than doctors, which could confuse people into thinking of them as being involved with patients, if you get my meaning.”

“Of course, I see. I can tell there"s a lot I have to learn about the actual police investigative process and the way of looking at things now I"m here.”

“You"ll soon catch on to my ways of thinking, Kat. Same with the others too. D.I. Ross is a good boss to work for. Just be sure and listen when he tells you stuff, though. He hates having to repeat himself.”

“Thanks for that, Paul. I"ll remember your advice.”

* * *

Across at the other side of the squad room, Detective Constable Keith Burton was also settling in. After being introduced to the team at the morning briefing, Burton had been put under the wing of Derek McLennan, now one of Ross"s senior team members. McLennan had spent an hour introducing the new man to the intricacies of the team"s filing system, before briefing him on the latest case. He explained to Burton that he would work with him as the next pair to be ferried out to the Alexandra Rose to take over the security and integrity of the crime scene.

“First day on the job and I get overtime, too,” Burton joked after being given the news.

“The boss didn"t mention whether you were married or not, Keith,” McLennan said with a questioning air in his voice.

“Engaged actually, Derek. My fiancée, Dianne, works at the airport, on the check-in desks. We"re both used to working unusual hours.”

“Ah, well, I suppose that"s good,” said McLennan, “But doesn"t it make it a bit difficult to maintain a relationship when you get so little time together.”

“Not at all, Derek. In fact, it"s made us closer. You know, makes us appreciate the time we do get to spend together even more.”

“Right, yes, I can see that could happen,” Derek replied.

“I take it there"s no one special in your life, then Derek?”

“No, there isn"t. Not yet anyway.”

“So what time do we sail?” Burton asked.

“I"ll go and check what time the others are due back. We"ll need to be at the Pier Head in good time to meet the launch.”

“Sounds good to me,” Keith Burton smiled at McLennan as , set against the far wall of Autopsy Room Two at the city mortuary.

Drake"s husband, Peter Foster had greeted his wife and her boss warmly after he"d buzzed them in to the mortuary building, and provided the necessary visitor badges before pressing another button that opened the interior access to the main complex and the autopsy suites.

For now though, Izzie, like Ross was concerned primarily with whatever Doctor Nugent could tell them.

“Please tell me you have something helpful for me, Doc,” Ross inquired as he watched Nugent begin the task of closing the gaping maw where the man"s internal organs had once resided.

“Och, well now, that depends on your definition of the word "helpful" I suppose, Inspector Ross.”

“Please don"t talk in riddles, Doc. I have little enough to go on as it is.”

“Well, first of all, I can confirm that the man was still alive when the pillow was put over his face. There are significant amounts of lint matching the material of the pillow case in the man"s nostrils and air passages to confirm that. The mark on his arm, here,” he indicated the tiny pinprick, just visible to the n***d eye on Gaspar"s arm, “is conversant with the man having been given an injection, of what, I do not know.”

“You mean you don"t know if he was poisoned or not?” Ross asked, as irritation and frustration began to grow within him.

“I"m pretty sure he was poisoned,” Nugent replied, “but as of yet, I cannae confirm what with. I"ve asked for the toxicology report to be handled urgently by the lab. I"m hoping that"ll reveal something to us.”

“It"s not like you to be totally baffled, Doctor Nugent,” Drake said as the pathologist stood away from the table, removed his mask and walked across to where the two detectives stood.

“I know,” he said, and then, keeping his voice low, as though afraid he might be overheard, though only Lees was present in the room, he said, “but it"s possible we"re dealing with a previously unknown poison here, something deadly and obviously virtually undetectable. I say virtually because I"m hoping the tox screen will reveal something.”

“I didn"t know there was such a thing as an unknown poison nowadays,” Ross sounded mystified.

“And how can you tell he was poisoned without knowing how?” Drake added.

“The world is possibly filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of natural agents that we would deem poisonous,” Nugent explained. “These could be anything from poisons derived from plants, or the venom of some as yet unknown animal species, or from a genetically mutated animal, previously thought to be non-venomous. As for my assumption of poison in this case, you just need to look closely at the remains.”

“Er, no thanks Doctor, an explanation will do for me,” Drake said, not wanting to stand hovering over the corpse as suggested by Nugent.

“Aye, well, yon laddie"s been dead for over forty-eight hours by now and rigor mortis should have passed and left the body in a state of flaccidity. This man"s muscles appear to show no sign of flaccidity yet. It"s as though some fast-acting poison attacked his body, forcing his muscles to contract and lock, possibly causing arrested breathing at the same time. The big problem is, there"s no trace of it as far as I can see.”

“And the tox report?” Ross asked.

“Will hopefully show anything that might still be in his bloodstream. If not, we"re whistling in the dark, Inspector.”

Ross and Drake left the mortuary feeling worse than when they"d arrived. The case was going nowhere fast. Clues were non-existent and they couldn"t even be sure who the victim was. Thankfully, Nugent"s agreement to declare a quarantine order on the Alexandra Rose might buy them some time, but without the victim"s real name and with no hint of a motive for the murder, solving the killing of the man in cabin 6 was going to be difficult, to say the least.

Alexandra Rose* * *

On their return to headquarters, Ross and Drake checked in with Ferris, who gave them the bad news about his search for the three men named on Gaspar"s passports. Ready to go to his office and shout at the walls for a minute, Ross turned as Drake said one word,

“Sir?”

Ross was surprised to see D.C. I. Oscar Agostini walking into the squad room, accompanied by a police dog handler, and a medium sized white Staffordshire Bull Terrier with black patches on its body and a black "beauty spot" below its left eye.

The dog was wagging its tail furiously at the sight of so many people and Agostini smiled as he led the man and dog right up to where Ross and Drake stood, looking increasingly surprised.

“D.I. Ross, Sergeant Drake, meet Sergeant Eddie Morgan and Sasha.”

The dog wagged its tail even more at the mention of its name.

“Nice to meet you, Sergeant, you too Sasha,” Ross said as he bent down and stroked the dog, who responded with more tail wagging and a serious attempt to lick the skin from Ross"s hand.

Izzie Drake immediately went a step further than Ross, going down on one knee to pet the dog. Sasha responded in the way most family pets would, rolling over onto her back, legs in the air, while Izzie gave her an invigorating tummy rub that elicited even more tail wagging, even from her upside-down position.

The other team members laughed as they gathered round, eager to meet the new arrivals and discover the reason for their visit. Agostini quickly imparted the required information.

“Sasha is the best "sniffer dog" in the north of England,” he said. “I intend to send Sergeant Morgan and Sasha out to the Alexandra Rose. If there"s the remotest chance that our victim was killed by some kind of d**g and if there"s a minute trace of it left, hidden anywhere on that ship, Sasha will find it.”

Alexandra RoseRoss nodded, agreeing with the theory behind Agostini"s thinking. He had a point to make, however.

“That sounds great, sir, and we"re glad to have your help, Sergeant Morgan, but according to Doctor Nugent, it may be that Gaspar was killed using a d**g currently unknown to us. If that"s the case, I don"t see how Sasha can help us.”

More wagging and an attempt to wrap her front paws round Ross"s legs followed the mention of Sasha"s name.

“Whoa there, girl,” he said as he slowly peeled the dog"s paws from their embrace around his legs. Smiling, he turned to Morgan.

“I thought police dogs were evil, vicious beasts that would rip your arm off rather than try to love you to death.”

Eddie Morgan laughed and ordered Sasha to sit which she did instantaneously.

“Don"t confuse Sasha with the dogs you see on patrol at John Lennon or at football matches,” he replied, his John Lennon reference alluding to Liverpool"s airport, formerly Speke Airport, but renamed after the former Beatle in 2001, twenty-one years after his death. “They are trained to grab and hold on to fleeing suspects, but sniffer dogs are different. If we want Sasha, for example, to detect the presence of drugs on a suspect, it wouldn"t help if she tried to rip his or her arm off while she was doing it, would it?”