The Valley of Longing 5

‘How can you be so certain the lady you found was murdered?’ Mitchell asked; he was suspicious of the way the stranger talked so casually about murder, and how long he thought the body had been there. ‘And how did you find her?’ He had to lengthen his stride to keep up with the younger man. ‘This isn’t the sort of place people come without a good reason. Even the local fishermen use the other side of the Dorpie. The last person I can recall that came out this way was a Historian we had in the Dorpie last autumn, and he only came out here because of the old Watchtower, that one up on the hill.’ He gestured to the ruined structure not too far away. ‘He seemed to think it’s French, reckoned there’s an Old French fort around here somewhere.’ ‘I was out jogging, that’s how I found her,’ Jack said. ‘I was heading along the other bank from the Bar, saw something out of place, got curious, and waded across. Wish I’d ignored it and gone on jogging. I wished that before I was even sure what I’d found; wading the river wasn’t my brightest idea. ‘As for how I know she was murdered, there she is.’ He indicated with a nod of his head. ‘You’ll understand when you see her.’ ‘Bloody Hell!’ The oath escaped Mitchell’s lips the moment he got within a dozen feet of the girl Jack Wild had stumbled on. There was no question about her being dead, or about her having been murdered. He swallowed convulsively against the urge to throw up. ‘You’d better stay back, Melissa, you don’t need to see this,’ he said when he had himself under control. ‘Oh God!” The warning came too late for Melissa, who turned away from the body on the ground, disgusted by the sight of what had once been a young lady, dropped to her knees, and vomited. She heaved until there was nothing left in her stomach, and only when she was finished did she realize that she had done so all over the feet of the man she had only recently met. ‘Sorry,’ she apologized in a weak an miserable voice. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jack said unconcernedly. Kicking off his running shoes, he took them to the river so he could wash them and his feet off. ‘No, I’m sorry, they must be ruined now. Let me know how much they cost and I’ll pay you back.’ ‘There’s no need to do that,’ Jack told her. ‘I was thinking about getting myself some new running shoes, now I’ve got the perfect excuse to do so, I should be thanking you.’ Mitchell ignored both Melissa and Jack Wild as he moved closer to the body on the ground. His first glimpse of the girl had been bad enough, the sight got worse as he drew closer, though. Her face was such a mess that it was all but impossible to tell that she was a girl from it, let alone who she was, but that was nothing compared to the rest of her; it looked to Mitchell as though there wasn’t an inch of her body that wasn’t either bruised or covered in blood, if she hadn’t been naked, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to tell her sex. The worst was her abdomen, as if the injuries done to the rest of her body weren’t enough, the person who had killed her had taken a knife - he assumed it was a knife - and carved letters into her stomach. It was the letters that made Mitchell feel as though he was going to empty his stomach, as Melissa had. Try though he did, he simply could not imagine why someone would have done that, it was an act of evil beyond his comprehension. ‘Is it Lynne?’ he asked of the doctor, who was at his elbow. Doctor Kelvin, the Dorpie’s only doctor, studied the face of the lady on the ground dispassionately for several long moments. He was not as affected by what he was seeing as the two police officers - had had seen plenty of horrible things during his career as a medical professional - but was not unaffected; he was more saddened. Finally, he shook his head. ‘At a guess, I’d say it’s Lynne, but I wouldn’t want to be held to that. It could be just about anyone, If I’m honest.’ Mitchell frowned at that. ‘Why can’t you be sure it’s her?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been treating Lynne since she was a baby, you must have some idea whether it’s her or not.’ ‘The face is too badly damaged to say for definite who it might be. Lynne has a mole in that position,’ Kelvin said, indicating that growth near the lady’s left armpit. ‘But I wouldn’t want to base an identification on it. You’re good friends with the family, you’ve probably seen more of Lynne over the years than me, can’t you say if it’s her?’ Reluctantly, Mitchell was forced to admit that he couldn’t. ‘I don’t think I could be certain, If I thought I was looking at my own daughter,’ he said unhappily. ‘Could it be Lily Potgieter, rather than Lynne Hendricks?’ ‘My gut feeling,’ Kelvin said. ‘Is that this is Lynne, but I think you’re going to have to rely on blood tests or dental records to be certain. Sorry, I wish I could be more help.’ Mitchell clapped the doctor on the shoulder. ‘No need for you to be sorry. If I can’t be sure who she is, I can’t expect you to be. Can you give me any idea how she was killed?’ he asked. ‘Obviously, she was beaten, severely, but was that enough…’ Before he could finish, the phone in his pocket began ringing. He quickly excused himself so he could answer it, though he was sure, even without looking, that he knew who was trying to get hold of him. Kelvin used the excuse of giving Mitchell privacy for his call to get away from the body. He moved to where Melissa was standing with the village’s newcomer and found them in conversation. ‘Why do you say I’ll be lucky if I don’t see more murders like this?’ Melissa’s face was ashen and her voice trebled in a way that made Kelvin worry she was suffering from shock. “Because a murder like this is often only a beginning.’ Jack told her. ‘It’s usually the result of someone bottling up frustration and anger until something or someone pushes them over the edge and they explode. When that happens, they generally react in one of three ways; they either immediately commit suicide out of remorse, hand themselves in to the police, or they go back to bottling things up until they explode again. If they do that then each explosion is likely to be worse than the one before. Not only that, but there’s a risk they’ll have enjoyed killing the girl, and will actively want to duplicate the thrills. If that’s the case, you’re in real trouble.’ Mitchell moved away from the body on the ground as he took his phone from his pocket. He preferred not to look at the young lady any more than necessary, and he was going to have to pay enough attention to her while investigating what had happened to her. ‘Inspector,’ he answered the phone. ‘I wondered how long it would be before you called.’ ‘Paul said he received a phone call from our new resident, Wild, saying he found the body of a murdered lady, it that true?’ Marvin Stevens, who commanded Doring Draad’s small police force asked in a concerned voice. ‘Yes,’ Mitchell said. The bloody mess that had been made of the young lady’s stomach sickened him but he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to it repeatedly, despite him dragging them away every time it happened. ‘I’m at the scene now. There’s no doubt about it, I’m afraid … she’s been murdered.’ ‘Jesus!’ Stevens swore. ‘Paul also said Lily Potgieter had been reported missing by her mother. Is it …’ His voice faltered, and it was a moment before he regained it.’ Is it Lily or ….or Lynne?’ ‘I can’t say for sure,’ Mitchell admitted. ‘She’s quite a mess, she’s been pretty badly worked over. It’s hard enough to tell she’s a lady from the district, her face is in, without trying to work out who she is, if you push me, I’d say it’s Lynne; the girl has dark hair, and the last time I saw Lily, which was only yesterday or the day before, she had blonde hair. Not only that, but Lily was only reported missing yesterday, and I’m pretty sure the - the body had been here for at least a couple of days, not that I’m an expert or anything.’ ‘What’s Kelvin got to say?’ ‘He’s as unsure as I am,’ Mitchell said. ‘There’s a mole he recognizes, but he doesn’t want to hang his Hat on it.’ He could hardly blame the doctor for that.’ He said it’s probably going to take a blood test or dental records to be sure if we’ve found Lynne or someone else.’ ‘What about her parents?’ Stevens asked. ‘Can’t Billy or Felicity make an identification? Surely they’re best suited to say one way or another if the girl you’ve found is Lynne.’ Mitchell didn’t answer that straight away, instead he thought back to his last visit to the Hendricks. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘They’re not coping with things very well, Felicity especially, and the body isn’t very recognizable. Lynne, if it is her, must have gone through Hell; her killer - he left her bruised and battered all over by the looks of it, especially her face, and something was ….something was carved into her stomach - words, I couldn’t make out what because of all the blood. I don’t think either Billy or Felicity would have much luck identifying her, and even if I thought they could, I wouldn’t want to put them through it. ‘I’m sure it will be a simple enough job for that pathologist to identify her from dental records or medical records or something.’ ‘Okay, that’s your decision, Mitchell.’ Stevens changed the subject then. ‘I know you haven’t long got there, and this is your first time dealing with a murder, but have you got any idea who could be responsible? I find it hard to believe that it could be anyone we know.’ ‘I wish I had a clue,’ Mitchell said. ‘I don’t, though. Like you, I can’t believe anyone in the village, anyone we know, could be responsible for this, but that only leaves Mr Wild.’ He dropped his voice as he said that, not wanting the person in question to hear him. ‘I’ve never met the guy before today, so I don’t have a clue what he might be capable of, though, to be honest, I can’t see why he would tell us about the body if he’s responsible for it. Especially since, if it is Lynne, she’s been here for up to a week without being found. ‘Chances are, she would have remained here almost indefinitely without us knowing she was here.’ Stevens was silent for a few moments. ‘I know what you’re going to say; it doesn’t make sense, at least to us,’ he said eventually. ‘But you do hear of people who commit crimes and then almost dare the police to catch them. I can’t say I understand why anyone would do that, but they do; like the parents who go on TV to make an appeal for the return of a missing child, when they’re responsible for the child’s disappearance. Maybe Mr Wild is one of those kinds of people.’ He sighed, unhappy with the thought that someone like that might have moved to Doring Draad. ‘There is another possibility,’ he said, his mind racing as he sought alternatives to the unpalatable thought that someone he knew was a murderer. ‘What’s that?’ Mitchell asked. He couldn’t think of a single other possibility - he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that there had been a murder in his quiet little Dorpie. ‘Someone from outside the Dorpie could be responsible,’ Stevens said. ‘It might even be that the lady is neither Lynne nor Lily, but someone from town, or even elsewhere. I realise it’s pretty unlikely, but it is something we have to consider.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ Mitchell had his doubts about his superior’s suggestion, but chose not to mention them. ‘While I’ve got you, I need you to arrange a few things for me. I need a coroner and a forensics team, Mike to come out here and keep an eye on the body until they can get here, and I need to know if you’re going to get a detective to come in and handle the investigation.’ ‘I think that’s something we should discuss when we get to the station.’ ‘…don’t you drive that green Land Rover I’ve seen around the Dorpie?’ Jack had to laugh at the question from the young constable, though he quickly stopped when he remembered they were at the scene of a murder. ‘You mean, how can I afford such a vehicle on a detective Inspector’s salary, especially when I’m not one anymore.’ Melissa flushed but didn’t deny that - that was the question she really wanted to ask. Before she could get an answer, however, Mitchell interrupted. ‘You were a detective inspector?’ he asked, more than a little surprised, not just because Jack Wild looked too young to have reached inspector’s rank, but also because, like Melissa, he couldn’t work out how he could own a car that had to be a bit pricy. ‘I was, now I’m an author?’ Jack said. He might have elaborated on his answer if she was still talking to just Constable James and the doctor, he sensed the sergeant’s dislike of him, however, and was reluctant to reveal too much of himself to the man. Barefoot, his soiled trainers in a carrier bag found in the boot of Mitchell’s car, Jack followed the two police officers up the stairs at the front of the police station. He felt eyes on him as he did so and looking around he found himself an object of interest for those Dorpie citizens who were out and about. Based on the suspicion and anger in the looks being directed at him, he could only conclude that news of his discovery had already made it around the village, and that he was being fitted for the role of murderer in the eyes of the Dorpies citizens. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, a Small Dorpie wasn’t like a town or city, where it was rare for a person to know more than two or three of their neighbours; in Doring Draad, everyone was likely to be related to, or at least know, everyone else. The only person for whom that wasn’t true was him. The anger and suspicion of his fellow residents disappeared from Jack’s mind the moment the entered the police station. His feet were knocked out from under him by an elderly woman who was energetically mopping the reception area. ‘Sorry,’ she apologized unconvincingly, without even a pause in her mopping for a pretence at helping him to his feet. ‘That’s alright,’ Jack dismissed the apology, while thinking that perhaps he had been wrong and angry looks were not all he could expect. He got quickly to his feet, and bent to retrieve the carrier bag holding his trainers. ‘Are you alright, Mr Wild?’ Melissa asked, coming back to help him, though he was already back on his feet by the time she reached his side. ‘It’s through here, Mr Wild,’ Mitchell said, speaking before the author could answer his colleague’s question. He made no effort to conceal his dislike of the friendly air that seemed to be developing between Melissa and Jack Wild. ‘Thank You, Sergeant,’ Jack said, ignoring the obvious lack of concern over his tumble. ‘I’m fine,’ he said to Melissa. ‘It’s nothing paying more attention to my surroundings won’t help.’ With an unpleasant wet feeling on his feet, Jack followed Sergeant Mitchell through to the station’s sole interview room, which didn’t look big enough for the four people it was supposed to accommodate. ‘We’ll begin the interview just as soon as I’ve taken care of a few things, Mr Wild,’ Mitchell said before disappearing from the doorway without giving his interviewee a chance to say anything. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ Melissa asked. Unlike her sergeant, she hadn’t taken an instant dislike to Jack Wild - if anything, she had taken an instant liking to him, in part, mostly, because he was attractive. Jock nodded, ‘Thanks. My water bottle’s just about out.’ “Tea, coffee?’ ‘Tea, white, no sugar.’ ‘Be right back…’