The body was undisturbed. Hales had no intention of disturbing him either, not until the doctor and forensics had been. If he wanted to impress the ACC he needed to do everything by the book. Now was not the time for cutting corners or making mistakes.
Hales bent down to get a good look at the victim. He screwed his face up at the state of him; his features were broken, eyes swollen shut, nose smashed, jaw shattered. His hair was matted with frozen blood. Whoever had killed him had been relentless in their attack. This was a vicious crime and Hales could not be more pleased.
‘Faith, find out who runs the nightclub. I want CCTV footage and I want to know what time they were open until last night and whether they had any trouble. Also, there’s a car park across the road, I want CCTV from that too and check with the City Hall. I want to know what show was on and the time it finished and, again, CCTV from the front and back of the building. Get uniform to help you.’
‘Yes sir.’ She turned quickly almost hitting Sian in the face with her ponytail.
‘This shouldn’t be too difficult,’ Hales said to Sian. He smiled. ‘We’re slap bang in the middle of the city centre surrounded by nightclubs and a big concert venue. CCTV should solve this before lunch if we’re lucky. A badly beaten-up male outside a nightclub; no prizes for guessing where he’d come from.’
Sian had her arms wrapped around her and held herself rigid with the cold. She frowned at her boss.
‘We’ll wait until forensics have been, run his prints and if he’s not on the system I want you to have a look through missing persons. Also, give the station a call; ask if anyone has reported anyone missing in the last day or so.’
‘It’s a bit early for that isn’t it?’ Sian asked, teeth chattering.
‘Time is of the essence Sian. By the way, I’d invest in a decent winter coat if I was you.’
Sian turned away. An energetic Acting DCI Hales was unsettling to watch. He was usually monosyllabic and rigid. Where had his sudden animation come from?
A deep red Vauxhall Astra pulled up and out stepped the pathologist, Dr Adele Kean. They made eye contact straight away.
‘Morning Sian, bloody freezing isn’t it?’ she said, quickly taking off her coat and opening the boot to find a blue protective suit.
‘On days like these you just want to wrap yourself in the duvet and forget about work.’
Adele smiled. ‘What have you got for me then?’
‘A dead male, beaten to death by the looks of him. I hope you’ve not had a fry-up for breakfast as you’ll be bringing it straight back up.’
‘I’m a good girl; Greek yogurt and blueberries for me.’
‘Really?’
‘No chance. It’s two coffees and a slice of toast. I’m never in the mood to eat first thing but I have to choke something down. I can’t leave the house on an empty stomach.’
‘My husband’s the same. He’d throw up in the car if he didn’t have breakfast.’
‘Who’s in charge?’
‘Acting DCI Hales,’ Sian said with the emphasis on acting.
‘Did you see Matilda yesterday?’
‘Yes briefly. It’s good to have her back. Pity she’s not back in charge of the murder team. It would have been nice to see her take this on.’
‘Well, it’s not for long. You’ll have her back with you soon.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Not a fan of your current leader?’ she asked as she was struggling into a blue forensics suit and a pair of plastic overshoes.
‘I don’t know what’s got into him this morning but he’s bouncing around like a five-year-old.’
‘Oh great that’s all we need.’
Adele grabbed her case from the boot and went over to Hales, who was still standing at the edge of the alleyway looking down at the body.
‘Good morning,’ she said in her usual cheerful manner.
He was startled from his thoughts and quickly turned around. ‘Oh, good morning Adele. You were quick.’
‘The call came through while I was on my way in so I detoured.’
‘Well prepare yourself for a nasty one. All I can tell you is that he’s male. I can’t give you an age range or a description, he’s been roughed up pretty badly.’
‘If you want to come with me you’ll need to suit up. Sian,’ she called over to the waiting, and shivering DS, ‘can you bring some footplates from the back of my car?’
‘I’m guessing whoever designed these suits were the same people who created maternity clothing,’ Sian said as she approached the pathologist and handed over the aluminium footplates.
Adele dotted them around the alleyway, finishing directly in front of the victim.
‘Stick to the plates, please,’ she said as Hales, now suited up, entered the mouth of the alley.
She then stepped forward, surveying the surrounding area before looking down at the victim. She took a deep breath and then pulled the mask up over her mouth and nose. Hales was not kidding; he looked like he’d been through a blender.
‘I think it’s safe to say he was killed here,’ she said, pointing at the frozen globules of blood on the walls. She lifted up the left hand and had a good look at the fingernails. ‘They’re nice and neat so he took care of himself. There are some good pieces of skin under here too, whether they belong to him or the attacker I don’t know but we’ll definitely be able to get a match from them.’
‘Excellent,’ Hales said to himself. ‘Time of death?’
‘That’s not going to be easy seeing as it was bloody cold last night. I don’t think it got above freezing all day. He could have been here since ten o’clock last night or just an hour.’
‘Can’t you be more accurate?’
‘Not right now. Rigor mortis has been given a helping hand by the weather. I’ll take temperature readings but he’s stone cold.’ She shivered. The thin plastic suit she had over her clothes was not designed to withstand such cold temperatures. She couldn’t wait to get into her office and turn on the heater. ‘I’ve got my assistant coming. She’ll take some photographs, we’ll get him bagged, then back to the lab and we’ll take some samples. Give me a couple of hours and come by for the PM.’
‘Thank you, Adele.’
Hales turned his back on the crime scene and headed for the Audi. He tried to suppress his grin but this could not have worked out better. Last night he had hardly slept. Lying next to his snoring wife his mind had been a whirl of what was going to happen to him and his career now Matilda Darke was back. He’d had the creeping feeling he’d get a phone call over breakfast from the ACC telling him to return to the CID incident room, but now he could relax, for the time being. This was a fresh murder scene, and, judging by the gossip that had been doing the rounds at the station yesterday, Matilda was in no fit state to lead one. This would be his. All his. And, fingers crossed, so would every other suspicious death that happened within the South Yorkshire boundary.
Matilda woke with a vodka-induced headache and had to force herself out of bed.