him?
Detective Sergeant Alison Dexter’s thought process was accelerating. Her mental curiosity demanded satisfaction. She trailed the van all the way back to Leyton then parked up at the end of Norlington Road and watched the brothers unload their new stock.
15.
Pathologist Roger Leach watched John Underwood eating a lunchtime sausage roll with obvious disdain.
‘How can you eat that muck?’ he asked. ‘It’s all ground up bone and fat. It’ll go straight to your heart.’
‘Thank you Doctor Leach,’ Underwood replied spraying pastry across his desk. ‘Your professional opinion is duly noted and duly ignored. Now, tell me about this Shaw character. How did you ID him?’
Leach opened his file. ‘We fingerprinted his remains after we’d brought them in from the railway. Farrell got a match. Leonard Shaw of Balehurst, Cambridgeshire. Farm worker. Convicted of ABH in 1992 after a punch up in a boozer.’
‘Interesting,’ Underwood observed. ‘A bit ofviolent previous. Cause of death?’
‘Not the train,’ Leach replied, knowing that was the critical fact that Underwood was awaiting. ‘He was dead when the train hit him.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Pattern of decay to brain tissue and heart muscles. Once you die and those areas are deprived of oxygenated blood they start to degenerate. My guess is that Shaw was dead at least an hour before he was mashed up by the train.’
‘Roger, you are a genius,’ Underwood said between mouthfuls. ‘How did he die then?’
‘The back of his head had been bashed in. Repeated blows with a heavy metal object. We found splinters of steel in his hair.’
‘Murder then?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Someone beat this bloke’s head in and dropped him onto a railway track.’ Underwood looked up; DI Mike Bevan was at the door. He waved him in. ‘Mike have a seat, I’m just finishing off with Roger.’
‘Anything interesting?’ Bevan asked, nodding a hello at the pathologist.
‘Murder. Farm worker with his head bashed in,’ Underwood explained.
‘Charming!’ said Bevan with a smile. ‘It’s like Dodge City up here. I had no idea that New Bolden was such a nest of evil.’
Underwood grinned and turned to Leach. ‘Good stuff, Roger. Anything else?’
‘Just one thing.’ Leach turned a page in his notes. ‘A portion of flesh was missing from the victim’s right arm.’
‘The train?’
‘I don’t think so. It looks more like a bite wound. A pretty savage one at that.’
‘What? From a dog?’ Underwood frowned in confusion.
‘Possibly. It’s hard to say at the moment. We’ll run some more checks. It looks like someone’s tried to rip off his tattoo. There’s half an eagle tattoo left on his upper arm.’
‘It’s an identifying mark,’ Bevan interjected. ‘Maybe whoever killed him didn’t want us to find out his name.’
Underwood checked his notes. ‘Good idea, mate, but we know his name already: Leonard Shaw.’
Bevan started slightly. ‘Leonard Shaw from Balehurst?’
Underwood and Leach exchanged surprised expressions. ‘The very same,’ Underwood replied. ‘Something you want to tell us, Mike?’
Bevan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a sheet of typed paper. ‘Remember I scoped out Woollard’s farm last week? I’ve been running DVLA checks on all the car licence plates I got thatnight. One belongs to a Mr Leonard Shaw of 3 Old Lane, Balehurst.’
‘Well, well!’ Underwood exclaimed, ‘what we have here gentlemen is a curious coincidence. Leonard Shaw, a convicted violent offender, attends an illegal dogfight at Woollard’s farm, then turns up murdered less than a week later. I suggest that we go and have a word with Bob Woollard.’
Bevan raised an admonishing hand. ‘John, if you’ll bear with me, I might have a better alternative.’
‘Let’s hear it then,’ Underwood instructed.
16.
At 5 p.m. that evening, DI Alison Dexter drove her Mondeo into the car park of New Bolden leisure centre. She was
Detective Sergeant Alison Dexter’s thought process was accelerating. Her mental curiosity demanded satisfaction. She trailed the van all the way back to Leyton then parked up at the end of Norlington Road and watched the brothers unload their new stock.
15.
Pathologist Roger Leach watched John Underwood eating a lunchtime sausage roll with obvious disdain.
‘How can you eat that muck?’ he asked. ‘It’s all ground up bone and fat. It’ll go straight to your heart.’
‘Thank you Doctor Leach,’ Underwood replied spraying pastry across his desk. ‘Your professional opinion is duly noted and duly ignored. Now, tell me about this Shaw character. How did you ID him?’
Leach opened his file. ‘We fingerprinted his remains after we’d brought them in from the railway. Farrell got a match. Leonard Shaw of Balehurst, Cambridgeshire. Farm worker. Convicted of ABH in 1992 after a punch up in a boozer.’
‘Interesting,’ Underwood observed. ‘A bit ofviolent previous. Cause of death?’
‘Not the train,’ Leach replied, knowing that was the critical fact that Underwood was awaiting. ‘He was dead when the train hit him.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Pattern of decay to brain tissue and heart muscles. Once you die and those areas are deprived of oxygenated blood they start to degenerate. My guess is that Shaw was dead at least an hour before he was mashed up by the train.’
‘Roger, you are a genius,’ Underwood said between mouthfuls. ‘How did he die then?’
‘The back of his head had been bashed in. Repeated blows with a heavy metal object. We found splinters of steel in his hair.’
‘Murder then?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Someone beat this bloke’s head in and dropped him onto a railway track.’ Underwood looked up; DI Mike Bevan was at the door. He waved him in. ‘Mike have a seat, I’m just finishing off with Roger.’
‘Anything interesting?’ Bevan asked, nodding a hello at the pathologist.
‘Murder. Farm worker with his head bashed in,’ Underwood explained.
‘Charming!’ said Bevan with a smile. ‘It’s like Dodge City up here. I had no idea that New Bolden was such a nest of evil.’
Underwood grinned and turned to Leach. ‘Good stuff, Roger. Anything else?’
‘Just one thing.’ Leach turned a page in his notes. ‘A portion of flesh was missing from the victim’s right arm.’
‘The train?’
‘I don’t think so. It looks more like a bite wound. A pretty savage one at that.’
‘What? From a dog?’ Underwood frowned in confusion.
‘Possibly. It’s hard to say at the moment. We’ll run some more checks. It looks like someone’s tried to rip off his tattoo. There’s half an eagle tattoo left on his upper arm.’
‘It’s an identifying mark,’ Bevan interjected. ‘Maybe whoever killed him didn’t want us to find out his name.’
Underwood checked his notes. ‘Good idea, mate, but we know his name already: Leonard Shaw.’
Bevan started slightly. ‘Leonard Shaw from Balehurst?’
Underwood and Leach exchanged surprised expressions. ‘The very same,’ Underwood replied. ‘Something you want to tell us, Mike?’
Bevan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a sheet of typed paper. ‘Remember I scoped out Woollard’s farm last week? I’ve been running DVLA checks on all the car licence plates I got thatnight. One belongs to a Mr Leonard Shaw of 3 Old Lane, Balehurst.’
‘Well, well!’ Underwood exclaimed, ‘what we have here gentlemen is a curious coincidence. Leonard Shaw, a convicted violent offender, attends an illegal dogfight at Woollard’s farm, then turns up murdered less than a week later. I suggest that we go and have a word with Bob Woollard.’
Bevan raised an admonishing hand. ‘John, if you’ll bear with me, I might have a better alternative.’
‘Let’s hear it then,’ Underwood instructed.
16.
At 5 p.m. that evening, DI Alison Dexter drove her Mondeo into the car park of New Bolden leisure centre. She was
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