The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) Emmy Ellis (notion reading list TXT) đ
- Author: Emmy Ellis
Book online «The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) Emmy Ellis (notion reading list TXT) đ». Author Emmy Ellis
Gary winced. Evanâs blasĂ© way of describing things always unnerved him, but the man had seen all sorts of horrors at scenes and on his post-mortem table. He was probably desensitised, had to be to remain sane. Gary was sort of the same, although he had become jaded from seeing so much destruction so wasnât as jolly as the pathologist.
âBut back to Codderidge,â Evan said. âIt appears several sharp implements at once entered not only her face but the top of her headâthose in the skull are in a uniform pattern.â
Garyâs stomach muscles tightened. Fuck it. âLike barbed wire?â
âNo, that would make an altogether different messâand I said uniform, donât forget. Think of a scrubbing brush, except instead of bristles, you have pointedâŠnails maybe, or something of that nature. Theyâre long.â
A homemade weapon? Like Cassieâs whip?
Gary always read The Life but had never done owt about what was written in the flyers, because there seemed to be hidden messages between the lines that only the civvy residents of the Barrington knew how to interpret. Of course, there was outright admittance of things, like the barbed wire whip, but unless Cassie was caught with it in her possession, the carrying of a weapon with intent to harm, or they suspected someone had been barbed by her, he couldnât very well walk up to her and demand to see it. No one whoâd been barbed had come forward, and he reckoned they couldnâtâthey were most likely bloody dead. Over the years, officers at the station had either expressed their feelings or shown it on their faces when it came to dealing with things on the Barringtonâno thanks, Iâll stay away from there, let Lenny or Cassie deal with it.
Lenny had carved it in stone, the way things went, and while it was wrong for coppers to have let himâand now Cassieâgo on their merry way, the Graftons were so canny, Gary doubted theyâd be able to pin owt on them anyroad.
A waste of time and the publicâs money to drag them in for an interview.
Heâd have to speak to Francis in a bit, about the possibility Cassie had made a second weapon.
Shit.
Evan glanced his way then back to the victim. âSheâs still warmish.â
Garyâs tummy churned. âThat marries with what the man said about the time he found them.â
One Dennis Abraham, a skinny young bloke, had come outside for a âcheekyâ cigarette âinnitâ after the murders, texting his girlfriend while smoking and pacing, and heâd ventured as far as the wheelie bins, tripping on Codderidgeâs outstretched leg. Heâd stumbled and righted himself by the time heâd met with a dead KnightââIt was nowt but a lump, like, cos it was dark.ââand used his phone torch see what was ahead of him, then flashed it at Codderidge. One vomit session later, quite the splashback from several lagers and a plate of cheesy chips, his cigarette thrown in panic, Dennis had run to the back door, digested what heâd seen, and phoned the police.
No one else had witnessed a thing.
Good.
âSo, about Gorley?â Gary held his breath. Fuck knows what Evan has to say. Please let it just be a fire.
âIâm afraid the weapon used on these two was probably also used on Gorleyânot the bat, you understand, the other one.â
Garyâs body turned frozen, so, so cold. âHow can you tell? From what I saw, all his skin was charred.â
âDamage to the lower jaw bone and piercings in the gum and the flesh, the bones in his neck, striations caused by something like what I described, the nail scrubbing brush. He had three teeth missing, swallowing two, and they had to have been during an attack as the gums showed evidence of recent tooth removal.â
He wasnât burnt enough, God, he wasnât fucking burnt enough.
âOkay, so were the teeth removed by another implement, say pliers during torture, or because of the weapon?â
âOnce I get the chance to have another look, Iâll be saying itâs the weapon in my report. As you can imagine, the police deaths here, plus Gorley dead using the same tool, for want of a better word, and Bob missing⊠Four officers. Someoneâs out there picking you all off?â
I donât need this. âI bloody hope not.â
âMe, too. I quite like you, and tending to your dead body isnât something I want to be doing.â Evan rose and faced Gary. âKeep as safe as you can, pal. There are many nutters out there.â
Donât I know it, and two are called Francis and Cassie. âIâll do my best.â
Gary swivelled to find his DS, Kath Lowry, who stood by the pub door, bending to examine the handle for some reason. Bloody hell, what now?
âIâll catch you later, Ev.â He left the evidence step, the crunch of grit beneath his shoes a crackle in the quiet.
âYep, Iâll be here for a while. Oh, and neither victim fought back, going by their fingernails, but that opinion may change once I scrape them. The attack was probably too quick for them to think of scratching the assailant.â
âCheers.â Gary walked to Kath, imagining the fear his dead colleagues had experienced, hating himself for being prepared to cover owt up.
Another officer had joined Kath, one of the forensic lot, difficult to tell who as Gary didnât recognise their eyes above the mask.
âWhatâs going on here then?â he asked. All he needed was to have added âHello, hello, helloâ at the start to become a complete clichĂ©, what with his home troubles, his need for a few scotches after work, and his defection of duty. He was a walking thriller novel detective, riddled with demons.
âI think something was used to force the handle up so it didnât come down.â
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