Old Bones New Bones by Alex Scarrow

Old Bones New Bones by Alex Scarrow

Author:Alex Scarrow [Scarrow, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-14T07:00:00+00:00


29

Boyd assembled his team in the small conference room. The corridor outside was filled with the slamming and opening of doors, along with the disgruntled sighs and grumbles of Flack’s small team relocating themselves from the Incident Room. Yet again.

‘All right,’ Boyd said, looking around the room at Minter, Okeke, Warren and O’Neal. Sully was also there, sitting in and ready to share his opinions on the forensics so far. ‘We have an operation name – Weatherman.’

Boyd had Gratton’s case file in front of him, opened so that the pictures from Leon Martin’s macabre photo album were spread out across the conference table for all to see.

‘For those of you who’ve just been roped in, this is the sum of the investigation back in 2001. Our murderer was dubbed the Ken Doll Killer by the red tops because of these photographs. They were found at his farmhouse. He’d been posing his male victims like dolls, so to speak… hence the name, courtesy of the Sun. You’re all going to read the case file this afternoon, but I’ll give you a potted synopsis to start you off.’

Boyd proceeded to give his team the bare bones of Gratton’s work: Leon Martin’s background, from childhood to living alone on his parent’s farm, and then on to Kristy Clarke’s escape back in 2001. He went through Clarke’s account of his abduction from the streets and his week-long incarceration, before being driven across to North Wales to die alongside Leon.

He then briefly covered the interviews and aftermath, including the discovery of Leon Martin’s van with his clothes discarded on the passenger seat, the inspection of the farmhouse and surrounding outhouses by over a dozen uniformed officers, and only then – too late to preserve the integrity of the crime scene – the SOCOs.

Boyd paused to look round the table. For once there was no fidgeting or banter, and all eyes were firmly fixed on him.

Satisfied, he moved on to the body discovered in the A21 layby the week before, and the very recent victim found buried beside the A27, including the linking details about the carved figure and the flowers, and the message tag that had come with them. He closed the briefing with his interviews with delivery drivers Dave Mullen and Dave Webb and, of course, the interview with Kristy Clarke – the ‘one that got away’.

‘Both drivers were called Dave?’ said O’Neal, looking at Warren out of the corner of his eye.

‘Yes,’ replied Boyd. ‘Dave and Dave.’

‘I think it’s been a legal requirement since Brexit,’ said Sully. ‘Seriously, you’re not allowed into France with a truck unless you’re called Dave.’

Minter chuckled. ‘My dad’s called Dave,’ he said. ‘See, he could drive a truck quite legally.’

‘I’m a Dave,’ added Warren. ‘Middle name.’

‘I’m Dave,’ said Sully, ‘and so’s my wife.’

Boyd rolled his eyes.

‘Life of Brian, right?’ said Minter.

Sully nodded. ‘Well spotted, Dave.’

‘It’s David actually.’ Minter grinned. ‘Although I’ll let you call me Davey if you buy me some chips.’

Okeke sighed loudly. ‘Are we done… boys?’

Boyd pressed his lips together, supressing a smile.



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