Mersey Murder Mysteries Collection

Chapter 14

Izzie Drake stood before the mirror on the rear wall of the ladies washroom a few minutes after she and Ross returned from the mortuary. Unlike the smaller mirrors over the wash basins on the other side of the room, this one was a full-length version, thoughtfully provided by someone who"d had the foresight to realise that ladies, in particular, might want to check their overall appearance before venturing onto the streets to continue the fight against crime. In practice, it allowed uniformed officers to ensure nothing looked out of place and that their appearance was of the standard required of their position as representatives of Merseyside Police. Whatever the reason, Izzie was grateful for the chance to quickly take stock of herself after the day"s earlier activity.

For some reason, despite the mortuary being one of the most antiseptically clean places she"d even known, Drake always felt as if she needed a bath or at the very least a shower, after visiting the place. It just had that effect on her, as if being surrounded by the presence of death and decomposition somehow tainted her hair, her clothes, her entire being, and as much as she tried to talk herself into ignoring such irrational feelings, the damn place still affected her like this, every time.

Peering at herself in the mirror, she saw a moderately (she thought), pretty woman, still with a youthful look about her at the age of twenty nine, her shoulder-length hair a dark brunette with a lustrous sheen that needed no special shampoos or treatments to maintain its good looks. A quick wash in the morning and she was good to go, ready to face the day and whatever it may bring, even a visit to the morgue. Izzie considered herself lucky in that respect, and her trim figure was accentuated by the well-cut navy skirt suit she"d chosen for the day"s work. With the warmer weather she felt more comfortable in a skirt, though she"d be the first to admit there were times when trousers definitely proved a rather more practical option.

Satisfied with her appearance, and relieved to be back on the familiar grounds of the headquarters building, she made her way back to the C.I.D. section and in particular, the office of Andy Ross.

As she knocked and entered the D.I"s office, Izzie found Ross sitting behind his desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and a copy of Hannah Lewin"s preliminary report in the other. Lewin had worked fast in getting it typed up and faxed through to Ross in double-quick time.

The look on Ross"s face was one she"d seen before and knew only too well.

“You"ve got your worried look on your face, sir.”

“Very observant of you, Izzie. You"re right of course. Tell me, what did you make of Doctor Lewin and her conclusions?”

“Oh, she of the very beautiful face and shapely body, and…”

“Okay, Izzie, that"s enough,” Ross grinned. “Any chance you can be serious here, bearing in mind my worried look, you know, the one you seem so concerned about?”

Izzie grinned back at her boss; pleased she"d been able to levitate the moment into something a little less morose.

“Well yes, right you are, sir. I know she appears to be on the ball and a complete expert in her field, so I"ve no reason to doubt a word she said. But, that"s not what"s really on your mind is it, sir? It"s the bullet wounds to the kneecaps; the possible IRA connection isn"t it?”

Ross smiled an ironic smile. He knew his sergeant was familiar enough with his moods and expressions to be able to read him very well indeed, one of the traits that helped them work so well together.

“I can"t hide anything from you, can I, Izzie? And yes, you"re quite correct in your assumption. I remember the sixties only too well, growing up with the non-stop news of gradually escalating troubles over the water in Northern Ireland. I just hope we"re not walking into a potential minefield here, with political implications if we find evidence of an IRA or Provo killing having taken place here in the city. With the peace process well underway nowadays, the last thing the politicians will want is something like this. Then again we may find the murder has nothing at all to do with the Irish, and that would at least be a weight off my mind.”

“So, a nice domestic would do the trick, eh, sir?”

“No murder at all would be preferable, Sergeant, but, if we have to solve one, then yes, I"d rather it didn"t have connections with either political or terrorist activity.”

“So, what"s our next move?”

“We need to speak to the contractors who were working on the reclamation for a start. I know Hannah and Fat Willy Nugent are going to check the site out tomorrow, but there"s a chance the workmen who made the original discovery have knowledge or information they don"t even realise they"re in possession of.”

“Such as, sir?”

“If I knew that, we wouldn"t be wanting to speak to them, now would we, Izzie?”

“Very true. Anything else?

“You know as well as I do that identifying the victim has to be our first priority. We don"t have a lot to be going on with but at least Hannah Lewin has given us a couple of scraps that might help.”

“You mean like the broken leg, for example?”

“Exactly. Assuming our victim is local, it might help if we can start by getting local hospitals to check their records for all youngsters between, let"s say ten and fifteen to begin with, let"s say twenty five to thirty five years ago. Heck of a list probably I know, but we have to begin somewhere. Local kids would obviously be treated locally so let"s check all Liverpool and Birkenhead medical facilities first. It"s possible our lad came to school from Birkenhead through the tunnel. I know quite a few secondary pupils made that journey, even in my day.”

“You want me to take charge of that sir, or hand it to one of the team?”

“You do it, Izzie. I don"t want one of the junior officers taking it on and then not being as thorough as I know you will be. It is a pretty thankless task I know, but…”

“Say no more, sir. I know what you mean. I"ll get on it soon as we"ve finished here.”

“Good, thanks Izzie. While you"re doing that, I"m going to disappear for a while. I"m going to have a word with the boss, see if he has any contacts with anyone involved in the anti-terrorist people from back then. I want to know if there was any significant IRA or Loyalist activity going on in the early sixties that might have had any connection with the city. If anyone knows, the anti-terrorist squad will, I"m sure.

“We still don"t know if the body was dumped in the water before or after the warehouse facility and the wharf ceased operating, do we, sir? Who do you think should check that out?”

“Let"s give that to D.C. Ferris. He"s got great local knowledge. God knows why that man has never managed to pass his sergeant"s exams, he"s a first class officer but seems a bit devoid of ambition.”

“Maybe it"s got something to do with his son, sir? You know, not wanting to commit to the extra hours he"d have to put in if he got his stripes.”

Ross silently berated himself for forgetting an important part of one of his junior officer"s backgrounds.

“I"d forgotten he has a disabled child. You"re probably right, Izzie. Thanks for reminding me.”

“That"s okay, sir, and don"t go beating yourself up just because you can"t recall every aspect of every officer on the team"s home lives. How he manages sometimes, I don"t know. It must be awful trying to juggle his shifts with the need to make sure he or his wife can take the lad for his regular dialysis sessions and check-ups and everything.”

“Very true, Izzie. So, yes, Okay, put Ferris on checking up on the old warehouse. I want to know everything possible about the place. Exactly who owned it, when it closed, who worked there, the whole kit and caboodle.”

“I"ll put him on it before I start checking the hospitals, sir. Anything else for now?”

“No, I think that"s enough to get things moving in the right direction. So you go and do what you have to do while I go and have a word with D.C.I. Porteous.”

As Izzie Drake left the office and closed the door behind her, Ross rose from behind his desk, picked up the as yet quite thin case file, and quickly followed his sergeant out of the door, and made his way to the office of the Detective Chief Inspector. Things were starting to move, albeit slowly, but any progress was better than none at all, he mused as he walked, deep in thought, to instigate his next line of inquiry.