It looked like a horror film: one of those slasher films that’s all blood and gore. It was horrible and smelled really bad as well. I saw Daniel straightaway on the bed. I saw his head. It didn’t look as if it was attached to his body. Then I saw Ruby. She’s only eight years old, bless her. My legs felt wobbly and I had to lean against the wall. I didn’t know it was covered in blood, and I got it all over me too. I felt sick. They’re my family. I don’t have anyone else.
I went downstairs, and Thomas was sitting at the bottom. I went into the kitchen and dialled 999. Then I went back to Thomas and put my arm around him. We waited until the police arrived.
The case appeared to be open and shut. There was no evidence of a break-in. None of the windows had been tampered with. Thomas’s fingerprints were all over his parents’ bedroom. There were no other foreign prints anywhere else in the house. However, there was one very important aspect missing from the case – a confession. Thomas vehemently denied killing his family. He stuck to his story, and it never varied no matter how many times he said it. Throughout the trial he maintained his innocence. There was absolutely no evidence to prove Thomas Hartley didn’t kill his family. A negative could not be proven.
What was Thomas’s motive for killing his family in such a disturbing and shocking way? Nobody knew. Almost three years later and still nobody knew.
Matilda turned away from the computer and looked out of the window. The clouds were gathering over the Steel City. She had heard on the radio that a storm was due later in the week. By the thickness and colour of the clouds it looked as if it had arrived. It was only early afternoon yet appeared to be late evening.
Matilda’s mind was full of questions. The case against Thomas Hartley was flimsy at best. There was no sign of a disturbance or break-in, but that didn’t mean Daniel Hartley hadn’t let his killer into the house; a killer who then let himself out afterwards. That was never followed up. And what about the sister? Debbie Hartley was home alone and didn’t have an alibi. Again, it seemed the police took her word for it. There was no mention of a murder weapon either. Had one been found? As far as Matilda was concerned the Senior Investigating Officer liked Thomas Hartley for the killings, and as there was no evidence to the contrary he didn’t bother looking too deeply.
Maybe that was true but all Matilda could think was that Thomas Hartley was innocent.
This had nothing to do with Matilda or South Yorkshire Police. The murders were committed in Manchester. She had no reason to investigate, no reason to stick her nose into a closed case apart from a gut feeling. She leaned back in her chair, a pensive look etched on her face. She picked up her phone and dialled.
‘Rory, have you been sent all the case files for the inmates?’
‘Yes. I’m going through them now.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Are you OK?’ she asked, noticing his less than cheerful voice.
‘Yes, fine. It’s just, well, it’s not exactly light reading, is it?’
‘No. I suppose not.’
‘Ma’am, about these boys, I was wondering … ’
‘I’ll talk to you about it later, Rory.’
She ended the called without saying goodbye. None of it was light reading. These boys were murderers; their crimes were shocking and deplorable. They were in Starling House until they were old enough to be moved to an adult prison. They had accepted their fate. Yet Thomas Hartley didn’t seem to be coping very well living among killers. Why was that?
Matilda was glad of the phone call from Adele Kean and a reminder that the post-mortem on Ryan Asher was due to take place. She had tried to concentrate on the case but the thought of an innocent young man being held at Starling House and the difficulty of trying to prove it kept distracting her. She closed down her computer and grabbed her coat. She couldn’t leave the station fast enough, even if it was to attend an autopsy.
‘I didn’t think you’d be doing the PM this quickly,’ Matilda said.
‘I’ve been asked very kindly by your ACC to bump him up to the front of the queue,’ Adele said. She did not look happy about having received a phone call from Valerie Masterson, who had obviously thrown her weight around. However, for a quiet life, Adele had acquiesced.
The door to the autopsy suite opened and in walked Claire Alexander, a small woman with a neat hair style cut into a short bob.
Adele immediately dropped her voice. ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Claire about Valerie getting on the phone. She doesn’t like being told how to do her job.’
‘Matilda, nice to see you again,’ Claire Alexander said, a wide smile on her blemish-free face.
Claire Alexander was the senior radiologist at the Medico Legal Centre. Claire had been instrumental in bringing Digital Autopsy to Sheffield and was proud to be a trailblazer in her field. At first, Claire thought the police were sceptical of Digital Autopsy as it wasn’t something they readily accepted. It was only after a quiet word with Matilda that she realized it was all down to budget.
‘And you, Claire. I like your new haircut.’ Matilda smiled.
‘Thank you,’ she said, running her fingers through it. Claire looked at Matilda, clearly trying to return the compliment, but nothing had changed in the month or so since they’d last met. ‘So, shall we begin?’ was all she said.
Ryan Asher, still in a sealed and padlocked body bag, was lying on the bed of the scanner in the main section of the Digital Autopsy Suite. As a sign of respect, and the unspoken knowledge that a teenage boy was inside that bag, the atmosphere upon entering the room changed immediately. Yes, he was a two-time killer, but he was still just a teenager.
As Matilda, Adele, and Claire made their way to the control room, the two uniform police officers standing guard over the body followed them, making the cramped office seem even smaller.
‘At least you’ve got the air con on this time,’ Matilda said as an aside to Adele.
‘It can get very warm in here,’ she agreed.
‘Tell me about it. Last time I was in here I’m sure I lost five pounds through sweating alone.’
‘It doesn’t help when you have such burly coppers.’ Adele nodded to the two large uniform officers standing at the back of the narrow room.
‘I’m just waiting for us all to be ready before I begin,’ Claire said loudly.
Matilda and Adele exchanged glances.
Claire Alexander was an acutely professional woman. She was all for office banter and gossip but her body language told Matilda she thought there was a time and a place for that, and it was not in the Digital Autopsy Suite. She pressed a few keys on the keyboard and the scanning of Ryan Asher began. It took minutes. Eventually, an X-ray image of the fifteen-year-old killer came up on the large computer screen. Claire looked at it briefly before selecting the trunk of the body and rescanned it to get a closer look at the areas where he was stabbed.
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