The Darkness Within by Graeme Hampton

Author:Graeme Hampton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hera
Published: 2021-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

It had rained heavily the night before, bringing a splash of freshness to the morning air. It was still drizzly when daylight broke, and some early commuters could be seen scurrying along pavements beneath umbrellas, or wearing anoraks with the hoods up.

Denning was standing in a car park behind a sports centre in Bethnal Green, dressed in protective overalls and booties. Deep puddles had formed on the tarmacked surface. One was the size of a small pond, and Denning suspected there was a blocked drain somewhere. Another significant spell of rain, and the whole car park would be partly submerged.

‘A dog walker found the body this morning,’ Gorton said, her mask tucked under her chin. ‘Apparently she uses this as a short cut to get to a nearby park. Well, to be more accurate, the dog found it. The walker merely established it was a body and phoned 999.’ Denning was never sure how to take Gorton’s sense of humour. On the one hand it always seemed inappropriate, but on the other hand, if it helped her cope with the demands of the job, who was he to grumble.

‘Don’t suppose you’d care to have a guess at an approximate time of death?’

‘Probably at around the same time she was murdered.’ A wry smile played on her lips. ‘Sorry. I’m not a morning person, as you’ve doubtless already twigged.’ She clutched at her mask, unhooking it from behind her left ear. ‘The body’s still relatively fresh. There’s no sign of any insect activity and I’d say it’s still in a state of autolysis, so a good estimate would be less than twelve hours ago. Once she’s on the slab they’ll be able to give you a more accurate assessment, but she hasn’t been dead long.’

‘And killed here?’ Denning asked, looking at the body.

The victim was lying on her side, blood pooling around her head. The lower half of her left arm was lying in a puddle, and the sleeve of her jacket was soaked with bloodied water. She was a fairly young woman, probably late thirties, maybe slightly older. Her hair and face were wet with rain; glassy eyes staring at her wet sleeve.

‘Carotid arteries have been severed.’ Gorton pointed at a gaping raw gash that ran along the victim’s throat. There was a soggy piece of brown masking tape hanging half across her mouth. Just like Buckfield. ‘The rain will have inevitably washed away a lot of evidence, which always makes our job harder.’ Gorton was kneeling now. She gently turned the victim’s head with a gloved hand. ‘Judging by the amount of blood still present around the body, and allowing for the level of rainfall we had last night, I’d say she was very probably killed right here.’

Denning glanced over at the SOCOs in their rain-spattered suits. One of them was carefully videoing the crime scene, just in case any further evidence was lost.

‘Where’s the dog walker now?’ he asked.

Gorton got back to her feet and pointed to a woman in her fifties sitting on a bench under a canopy by the entrance to the sports centre.

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