Death at Rainbow Cottage Jo Allen (digital book reader .TXT) 📖

He flicked the torch on his phone. A sensible shoe, flat, black and comfortable like all the nurses worse, appeared briefly in the light and disappeared again when he turned. Dark trousers, like the ones Becca wore for work. He felt in his pocket for his warrant card, swung it in an arc for anyone to see. ‘Police!’ he said for a third time. ‘Stand back!’

His heart slowed as he bent to the figure on the ground. ‘Do we know who—?’

‘No.’ Claud’s face wavered out of the darkness. ‘I’ve never seen her before.’

Jude snatched a look over his shoulder. Doddsy would take the burden from him, even Ashleigh, but he couldn’t let them. He had to see for himself. He lifted the coat and looked down.

His heart slowed again, this time in relief. Long hair glinted copper in the artificial light. The face that stared up at him, the eyes wide in shock, their emptiness exaggerated by the lights and the shadows, by the stark whiteness of the skin, was a stranger to him.

Thank God. Not Becca.

A touch on his sleeve. Ashleigh. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine.’ She’d seen his moment of weakness and an irrational fury overwhelmed him — with himself for still caring, with her for her ability to see into his soul and know that his first thoughts had been for someone else. He turned his back on her. ‘Let’s get on.’

Blue lights bounced, strobe-like, off the lights at either end of the churchyard. ‘I’ll deal with them,’ Doddsy said to him. ‘You take charge here.’ He headed down towards the ground on swift, light steps.

The bells had stopped. The door of the church opened and one of the PCs closed in on it. ‘Not that way, Sir. I’m afraid you can’t come through here. Use the other door.’

‘I’m on it, as well.’ Ashleigh turned away, then twisted back to him, her face all sympathy. That just made it worse. ‘Just as well we never got started on the drinks.’ She stepped away. ‘Okay. Everybody. Who saw what happened?’

Jude turned back to the body and the two people who stood by it. A cluttered, contaminated crime scene spread in front of him. Claud should have known better. ‘I thought I said not to move the body.’

‘I did tell him not to do that. I did.’ Claud wrung his hands.

‘I had to move her.’ A second figure emerged from the shadow. With a weird lack of surprise, Jude recognised him as Phil Garner, Tammy’s husband. ‘The poor woman was still alive when I got to her, but there was nothing I could do to save her. I’m afraid she’s gone. Stabbed. One wound only, I think. Straight to the heart.’

‘Do you recognise her?’

‘Why the hell would I?’

In the dim light from the churchyard lamps, Jude looked from him to Claud and back again. Both men’s hands and clothing were smeared with blood. ‘Of course. You did your best. Thank you.’

He’d tried to be neutral but Phil, always quick to take umbrage, bristled. ‘I don’t need you lecturing me about crime scenes. Tammy never lets up. But it’s like I always say to her. I’m a doctor. My first priority is to save life and I’m not going to leave someone to die because of your rules.’

What strange conversations the Garners must share over the breakfast table — a doctor, a policeman, a CSI. ‘Mine, too. But now she’s dead, it’s a crime scene. It’s for us to take over.’ He glanced over his shoulder. Ashleigh had marshalled the onlookers away from the scene and Doddsy was issuing instructions to the first uniformed officers on the scene, one of whom was already unrolling some tape and closing the churchyard off. Among them he recognised Tyrone, speaking quickly to Doddsy and immediately moving on to join Ashleigh in taking the names and addresses of witnesses.

‘Mr Blackwell. You found the body? Did you see anything? Anybody?’

‘No.’ Claud’s voice shook as Jude ushered the two of them away from the scene. ‘I just called 999. I called you. I shouted out for help and this gentleman came and went over to her. I told him what you’d said about not moving her but he didn’t listen. Jesus. Jesus, I feel ill.’

‘It’s okay.’ Jude steered him away, beyond the boundaries of the churchyard, where they couldn’t do any more damage to the scene. A quick gesture brought Ashleigh towards him.

‘Arc lights,’ Doddsy was saying to someone. ‘And for God’s sake get all these people away. And tell them all to be bloody careful where they put their feet.’

‘Tyrone’s taking charge of the witnesses,’ she said to Jude. ‘We’re going to put them in the church to get their preliminary statements.’

‘Not these two. I’ll speak to them myself. Mr Blackwell found the body, and this is Phil Garner. Tyrone’s dad. He’s a doctor. I’ll speak to both of them just now and then we’ll get someone to take them down to the station.’

‘What for?’ Claud’s voice quivered.

‘Routine,’ Ashleigh soothed him. ‘We need to take samples. As you were present at the scene we need to check for cross-contamination.’

‘I suppose. Yes. Oh, God.’

‘I’ll go and twiddle my thumbs until you’re done, then, shall I?’ Phil looked to Ashleigh for direction and she nodded him to the church. ‘I’m allowed to make a phone call, of course? I’d better let Tammy know what’s keeping me.’

He marched off, leaving Jude with Claud. ‘Okay. I just want you to run through what happened. Let’s go into the church and find you a seat.’

‘Claud?’ Another figure appeared, breaking through a gap that the uniformed officers had yet to seal off. Jude cursed. Natalie, on her way back from her latest run, had once more stumbled on the scene of a crime.

‘Don’t come any