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Authors: Declan Conner
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to the Hetherington’s
farmstead over at Claymore. It’s the last appointment yesterday the vet made on
call out. Ask what they talked about. Insist on taking a look at their dogs.
See if any of them look as though they’ve had surgery. I want to know what
breed they are. And try to find out if they have anyone at the farm helping
them. Then find out what time she left and if she mentioned where she was
going. When you get back, I want you to organize a Rota between yourselves to
guard the property. For now, wait here at the front. I may need a hand with the
body. I’ll take Frank to his vehicle and when he returns you can go.”
“Okay.”
Shaw pondered for a while. It would have been better for him
to be asking questions over at Claymore. But he knew that had questions of his
own he needed to ask when he arrived in LA. He also felt a need to pay his
respects at Cath’s graveside. Thinking about Cath stopped his thoughts in their
tracks.
“Amy?” He retrieved his cell phone and dialed Amy’s number.
It went straight to voice mail. “Listen, Amy, its Dad. I need you to be
careful. There could be a dangerous animal on the loose. Make sure Ted’s with
you. Don’t go wondering off alone. I have to go to LA. I’ll be back some time
on Saturday. If you get a signal, call me. Love you.”
He looked over at the pathway. Frank had already rolled out
the sheeting over the tracks and had foraged some stones from a rockery to hold
it down.
“She’ll be okay,” Frank said. “I saw them drive off in
convoy. The boys are all adept with a rifle.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Frank, do me a favor, when you and Jim work out a Rota,
make sure the property is guarded at all times. But can you work in one of you
driving over to Breakers Lake in the morning and making sure Amy is okay.
There’s no chance of a cell phone signal over there.”
“I understand.”
Frank disappeared into the back of the burger van with some
sheeting, then he returned after a few minutes.
“That’s it, we’re ready,” Frank said.
Shaw grabbed his camera from his box in his car. They walked
around to the front door with Frank carrying the body bag.
“Stop!” Shaw said. “We need to find you some protective
clothing.”
“It’s a vet’s surgery, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Improvisation. Let’s see what we can find.”
Jim stepped aside, and Shaw followed Frank through reception
and into the surgery. Frank looked around.
“There we are; gossamer gloves in that box dispenser.” Frank
pulled out a pair and put them on his hands. “I just need something for my feet
and legs now.” Frank rummaged on a shelf. “Here, give me a hand to fasten
these,” he said, and took three garbage bin liners from a packet.
He looked a sight once the liners were fastened over his
legs. The other liner, he fashioned with holes and slipped it over his head to
cover his body. Shaw walked ahead through the holding room and into the
corridor.
“This is not going to be easy,” Shaw said.
There was no way around the body without he would have to
walk on some of the bloodstains to get to her head. He thought the sight of her
would elicit some emotional response. It didn’t. Instead, he floated as if in
another dimension, looking on dispassionately. This was serious business. There
was a job to be done. Shaw took pictures of the body and the blood splatters.
He zoomed in on the neck wound, and took pictures from different angles. The
top of her vertebrae was visible and crushed. His mind flashed back to the
Bullmastiff back in LA. The injuries were not dissimilar. He lifted her
nightdress. There were no wounds to the lower body, no bruises to her groin area.
But there was some bruising on her upper chest area, and raking claw marks. He
took a final picture, and then pulled down her nightdress to preserve her
dignity.
He put his camera away, took out the chalk and marked around
the body.
“We’ve got a problem,” Shaw said. “I’m worried
farmstead over at Claymore. It’s the last appointment yesterday the vet made on
call out. Ask what they talked about. Insist on taking a look at their dogs.
See if any of them look as though they’ve had surgery. I want to know what
breed they are. And try to find out if they have anyone at the farm helping
them. Then find out what time she left and if she mentioned where she was
going. When you get back, I want you to organize a Rota between yourselves to
guard the property. For now, wait here at the front. I may need a hand with the
body. I’ll take Frank to his vehicle and when he returns you can go.”
“Okay.”
Shaw pondered for a while. It would have been better for him
to be asking questions over at Claymore. But he knew that had questions of his
own he needed to ask when he arrived in LA. He also felt a need to pay his
respects at Cath’s graveside. Thinking about Cath stopped his thoughts in their
tracks.
“Amy?” He retrieved his cell phone and dialed Amy’s number.
It went straight to voice mail. “Listen, Amy, its Dad. I need you to be
careful. There could be a dangerous animal on the loose. Make sure Ted’s with
you. Don’t go wondering off alone. I have to go to LA. I’ll be back some time
on Saturday. If you get a signal, call me. Love you.”
He looked over at the pathway. Frank had already rolled out
the sheeting over the tracks and had foraged some stones from a rockery to hold
it down.
“She’ll be okay,” Frank said. “I saw them drive off in
convoy. The boys are all adept with a rifle.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Frank, do me a favor, when you and Jim work out a Rota,
make sure the property is guarded at all times. But can you work in one of you
driving over to Breakers Lake in the morning and making sure Amy is okay.
There’s no chance of a cell phone signal over there.”
“I understand.”
Frank disappeared into the back of the burger van with some
sheeting, then he returned after a few minutes.
“That’s it, we’re ready,” Frank said.
Shaw grabbed his camera from his box in his car. They walked
around to the front door with Frank carrying the body bag.
“Stop!” Shaw said. “We need to find you some protective
clothing.”
“It’s a vet’s surgery, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Improvisation. Let’s see what we can find.”
Jim stepped aside, and Shaw followed Frank through reception
and into the surgery. Frank looked around.
“There we are; gossamer gloves in that box dispenser.” Frank
pulled out a pair and put them on his hands. “I just need something for my feet
and legs now.” Frank rummaged on a shelf. “Here, give me a hand to fasten
these,” he said, and took three garbage bin liners from a packet.
He looked a sight once the liners were fastened over his
legs. The other liner, he fashioned with holes and slipped it over his head to
cover his body. Shaw walked ahead through the holding room and into the
corridor.
“This is not going to be easy,” Shaw said.
There was no way around the body without he would have to
walk on some of the bloodstains to get to her head. He thought the sight of her
would elicit some emotional response. It didn’t. Instead, he floated as if in
another dimension, looking on dispassionately. This was serious business. There
was a job to be done. Shaw took pictures of the body and the blood splatters.
He zoomed in on the neck wound, and took pictures from different angles. The
top of her vertebrae was visible and crushed. His mind flashed back to the
Bullmastiff back in LA. The injuries were not dissimilar. He lifted her
nightdress. There were no wounds to the lower body, no bruises to her groin area.
But there was some bruising on her upper chest area, and raking claw marks. He
took a final picture, and then pulled down her nightdress to preserve her
dignity.
He put his camera away, took out the chalk and marked around
the body.
“We’ve got a problem,” Shaw said. “I’m worried
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