Taste of Blood

Chapter Thirty

Angelica Martinez was coming out of the bakery in the row of shops below her flat. Jane had parked across the street, having already been to the care home. When she did not see her exit at two o’clock, she had called from a phone booth and was told she had already left. Now she was waiting to have a conversation that she knew was going to cause Angelica terrible distress.

She locked the car and headed across the street as Angelica started up the staircase leading to her flat. ‘Miss Martinez,’ Jane called out.

Angelica turned with a warm smile. ‘Oh, this is good timing. I have fresh pastries. Do come up.’

Jane followed her and stood back as she unlocked her front door. The bicycle was still chained up outside against the wall. Angelica ushered Jane into her sitting room, saying she would put the kettle on, but then stopped, looking perplexed.

‘You seem serious. Have you any news for me?’

Jane nodded. ‘Yes, I do. Please come and sit down. We can perhaps have tea later.’

Angelica put her bag of pastries on the arm of a chair.

Jane took a deep breath. ‘I am sorry to tell you, but we have discovered remains that may be Sebastian’s.’

Angelica gasped, but then seemed to steady herself. ‘But you are not certain?’

‘Not until we have Sebastian’s dental records to determine if we have a match.’

‘I will need to see him.’

‘I am afraid that is not possible, not until we have confirmation. Do you have Sebastian’s dental records?’

‘No, I don’t have them. He never went to a dentist in England. My husband did take him to have a brace fitted in Berlin when he was very young. It was a plastic thing but he hardly ever used it and then lost it.’ She laughed lightly, shaking her head. ‘I think he lost it on purpose because he hated it.’

‘Would you mind if I contacted your husband?’

‘No, no, please do, or do you want me to call him now for you?’

Jane stood up. ‘That won’t be necessary. I have his contact numbers.’

‘No tea or pastry? I can put the kettle on.’

‘Thank you, but I really should go.’

‘Yes, but what happens if you cannot get my son’s dental records? What else can you do? Because you are not sure that you have found my son, are you?’

Angelica started pacing the room, clasping her hands together.

‘You have to tell me where you found him. I have to know. You cannot expect me to understand what you mean by his “remains”. What do you know?’

Jane kept her voice calm and controlled as she reached out to take Angelica’s hands, holding them tightly.

‘Angelica, listen to me. Try and stay calm. We have the remains of someone. We think it is a young adult; we do not know if it is male or female. We will only be able to tell by getting a forensic dentist to examine the teeth, and if we can have Sebastian’s dental records, we will be able to confirm if it is your son or not. It’s possible we may also be able to do DNA tests.’

Angelica looked perplexed, but Jane decided not to try and explain it to her. She recalled from Paul Lawrence’s lecture that she would need samples of Angelica’s hair and saliva but at this moment it did not seem appropriate to ask. Angelica cupped her hands under her chin. ‘I’m sorry, my heart is breaking, but I appreciate that you have taken the time to be here and not sent someone else. I will pray and ask God to be sure my son is still safe.’

Jane gave Angelica a hug, but as they parted, she saw a look of such anguish in her eyes that she felt a painful guilt. She was certain they had found the remains of her beloved son but was unable to be honest with her.

‘I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,’ Jane said. ‘Is there anyone you can ask to be with you?’

‘No, I will go and see Vera for comfort. She has always been there for me.’

Jane sat in her car, letting her emotions settle. She felt she had done the right thing, even if she had not been truthful. How could she tell Angelica that her son had been decapitated?

When Jane got back to the station, she found that the searches of the Larsson and Boon properties were already underway, with officers from the station accompanied by four forensic officers, while DCI Hutton had dealt with complaints from various lawyers.

Having come back empty-handed from Angelica Martinez, Jane placed a call to Victor Hoffman. He didn’t pick up so she left a message to call her back urgently. Jane went over to the board to check what new information had been gathered and Stanley joined her.

‘I made some progress on tracing the digger. I was just going to mark it up on the board.’

‘Really?’

‘I called Mrs Caplan, and she found some papers on her husband’s desk. She found a cash receipt for a Mr McGregor, who did the new tarmacking.’

‘That’s good. Have you contacted him?’

‘Yep, he also laid the original tarmac in the courtyard. But his business ran into difficulties, so he started a new company with his nephew.’

Stanley watched her closely, but she gave no sign of being nervous.

‘The digger in question was never used by his team as they required a bigger model, but he reckoned a few of his competitors may have had access to a similar machine. If he found anyone that might be in the frame, he’d tip us off.’

‘Good. Anything else?’

‘Yeah, just to be sure, I checked out McGregor and his nephew’s whereabouts on the night in question, and they were both at a party with a shedload of witnesses. So personally, I think we don’t waste any more time trying to track these blokes down. They’ll be long gone, and I would say the digger has probably gone walkabout by now as well, after what they uncovered. You never know, though, we might get lucky and McGregor tips us off.’

‘Well, thanks for all that. I appreciate you sorting it out.’

Stanley gave her one of his hooded smiles, but she just nodded in return, giving nothing away, even though she knew he was covering for her. It felt good to know he had her back. Her desk phone rang, and she hurried over to answer it.

Mr Hoffman was as abrasive as ever, and at first refused to discuss his son’s dental history. To get him to be more cooperative, Jane was forced to tell him about the discovery of the head. He quickly became emotional and agreed to look in some old diaries as he could not recall the dentist’s name.

As the day went on, Jane waited for reports from the searches, but the news was disappointing. The teams had found no items of clothing that might have belonged to Sebastian, and no luggage or shoes. The search of Martin Boon’s property had proved a little more productive, as he seemed to have been a keen mountaineer and rock climber in his younger days, and they found some small axes and lengths of rope. They also found some sacking in his garden shed for protecting plants in the winter.

The forensic teams were still working, but by the end of the first day they had found no bloodstains or blood spatter, even though they had been diligent examining bathroom tiles and pulling back carpets to examine old floorboards. The following day they would begin to search both rear garden patios.

It was almost six when a call came in from Mr Chadra to say he had completed his report. He apologised for the delay, but he had been waiting on a forensic expert to examine the edge of the bone where the head had been severed. He sounded very pleased with himself when he announced he was now certain a very unusual Gigli saw had been used.

Jane was surprised that she had never heard of it.

‘It was widely used for amputation in the First World War and even at times in the Second,’ he explained. ‘It is basically a small chain with two handles or rings at either end. The action of drawing it from side to side cuts quickly and strongly, which you need for amputations.’

‘That’s very interesting,’ Jane said.

‘I’m also arranging for a plaster cast of the face to be made, from the impressions on the duct tape. I’ll contact you as soon as it is completed. I must say it has been a fascinating and unusual post-mortem, and an imprint of the victim’s face is something quite unique in my experience — although as far as identification is concerned it would still not be as reliable as a facial reconstruction.’

‘I understand,’ Jane said. ‘Thank you again.’ She pushed her chair back and called over to Stanley, who was just getting his coat out of the cupboard.

‘Have you ever heard of a Gigli saw? I just had the pathologist on the phone, and he was certain that is what was used to sever the head.’

‘Never heard of it. Is it unusual?’

Jane repeated Chadra’s description, and Stanley suggested they ask one of the forensic officers who were in the boardroom. ‘They’ve got a load of evidence to be bagged up and stored for the night, so they might have found one, you never know.’

Jane was about to leave with Stanley when her desk phone rang. Reception had a Victor Hoffman calling. Jane asked for him to be put through straightaway, telling Stanley to go ahead into the boardroom.

‘Mr Hoffman, thank you for calling.’

‘I am afraid it is not good news; the dental surgery has been closed for over two years, and I have been unable to trace his address.’

‘Thank you for trying, but can you give me his name?’

‘It is a very common name, but he was Mr Felix Schneider. He was, as I recall, quite elderly.’

‘Thank you very much. I will obviously contact you if I have any further news.’

Hoffman hung up and Jane tried to think how she could trace Felix Schneider. Standing up, she asked the room if there was anyone who spoke German.

Meryl the young probationer raised her hand.

‘Great, can you come over to my desk? I need you to do a trace for me on a dentist who had a practice in Berlin, possibly retired or may even be deceased. His name is Felix Schneider. See what you can do tonight, and tomorrow morning we’ll contact London’s Interpol office, who can help us with contacts in Germany.’

Meryl sat down at Jane’s desk, opening her notebook. ‘If I trace him, do you want me to explain why we need to speak to him?’

‘Just say it is with regard to a patient named Sebastian Hoffman. Stress that it is very important. I’ll talk to him.’

Jane went into the boardroom. Two forensic officers were making out labels and bagging items for storage. The entire table was covered with stacks of photo albums, clothing, string and coils of rope, along with bits of sacking and numerous tools removed from Martin Boon’s garden shed, including a small, wooden-handled axe. The four paintings she had requested were placed in a line, one behind the other. Jane pulled on a pair of protective gloves as she examined the paintings. She held up her hand.

‘These two were removed from the Larssons’ property, correct?’

‘Yes, ma’am, the top two are from Martin Boon’s drawing room,’ one of the officers said.

Jane gently turned the first painting over. Under the glass the painting was glued to a piece of cardboard. It had no date or signature. She turned the other paintings over to check the back, and they seemed very similar — as if prepared by the same person. In the bottom right-hand corners of the paintings were the initials EB, who had to be Martin Boon’s wife Ellen.

Stanley walked in. Jane had been concentrating so hard she physically jumped.

‘Sorry, I’ve been on the blower. After a few enquiries about this saw, I got in touch with a retired pathologist who is going to fax over some pictures. Like Chadra said, it was mostly used by surgeons in the First World War, but is still used for some operations because it is very fast. Because it’s compact, it’s also often used by mountaineers and hikers to slice through wood to make fires. You can get one that — when it’s coiled together — is no bigger than a wallet. They can still be bought from stores that sell camping gear. And Martin Boon was into camping or climbing when he was younger,’ Stanley said.

They moved down the table to examine the items brought in from Martin Boon’s house. Numerous tools and an old, mouldy rucksack had already been examined and tagged by the officers.

‘I don’t suppose you guys found any rolls of duct tape?’

Stanley was just about to pull on surgical gloves when DC Burrows walked in with some faxed photographs showing different types of Gigli saw. Taking the pages, Stanley first showed them to Jane and then held them out for the two officers to look at.

‘See anything that resembles one of these?’

‘No, sir, and no duct tape,’ one of them replied. ‘But we are back searching tomorrow. We did find some old magazines in the pocket of the rucksack; they are bagged at the end of the table. We ran a test for blood traces but it came up negative. They are old trekking journals and mountaineering circulars. Judging by the state of them, I doubt the rucksack’s been used for years.’

Jane nodded. ‘Thank you. Stanley, can you just look over these paintings with me? I won’t say anything until you’ve finished.’

The two forensic officers continued working.

‘You want any tea or coffee brought in?’ Burrows asked.

Jane checked her watch. ‘I think you two guys can get off, as you’re on duty tomorrow. We’ll finish up here and lock up. What about you, Stanley?’

‘Canteen will be closed now. I’m not leaving.’

‘Surveillance teams have just switched over, so is it OK if I take off?’ Burrows asked, hovering by the door as the two forensic officers gratefully departed. They had been on call from six that morning.

‘You go on home, Bill. It’s been a long day,’ Jane said.

Stanley, who had now drawn on surgical gloves, finished examining the last painting. As the door closed behind Burrows, Stanley gestured to the first painting. ‘Right, the first two I remember were hanging in Martin Boon’s drawing room, and from the initials at the bottom corner they were done by his wife Ellen. They appear to be rather amateurish watercolours of the courtyard before any tarmacking was done. So, you have a cracked paved area, some plants growing in and around the Caplans’ old fences, and sections of their rose trees in their front garden. The second one shows more damage to the Caplans’ gates and sections of his fence broken. I presume these were done when the Hoffmans owned the property and clearly show neglect of the plants and the damaged courtyard, with bits of old cobblestones visible.’

Jane nodded as Stanley then gestured to the two paintings removed from the Larssons’. ‘I remember you remarked on these two being even more amateurish, which meant they were out of kilter with their quality decor, am I right so far?’

‘Yes, go on.’

‘Well, what we now have is still the same damaged gates and fences, and no flowers along the edges of the gates, just a dirt-filled ditch, and the dark-grey colour covering most of the courtyard. I presume this has to be the artist’s impression of the tarmac. I’m assuming the last painting was done around the same time, as it’s virtually identical, the same dark grey for the tarmac, but now she’s added two areas painted in a different sandy colour, one larger than the other.’

Stanley puffed out his cheeks, pointing to the larger pothole. ‘That’s where the head was buried. I don’t understand, is it a reminder of the location? So they know exactly where it is, if you needed to dig it up?’

‘If you’re right, then why hang the bloody thing on their wall?’

Stanley rubbed his chin. ‘Maybe it’s a threat, even blackmail. Whatever it is, it suggests that they are all in on it; that both couples knew what was buried under the courtyard.’

Jane nodded. ‘The question is, then, which of them committed the murder? I’m putting Martin Boon in the frame because of the way he has behaved. Now we know why he was adamant about not allowing the Caplans to erect their new wall and gates. He had to have known what could be found; the painting clearly shows that the head was buried just a short distance from the proposed work.’

‘Yeah, but what about the hysterics from Mrs Larsson about anyone parking in the courtyard? They are all in on it, Jane. But right now we still don’t know for sure who the victim was. It’s all supposition, even with the paintings.’

She nodded, moving down the table to examine some of the items brought from both suspects’ properties. She first opened the clear evidence bag containing the magazines removed from the rucksack, flicking through them and noting that they dated from 1979.

Stanley was searching the pockets of the rucksack. It smelled of mould and mildew. He withdrew a sticky strip of melted cough sweets. The tin foil had stuck to his gloved fingers. He shook his hand to get it off and then swore as it fell onto the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, he saw beneath the table was a big plastic container full of musical instruments, and a black guitar case.

‘What you doing?’ Jane said, looking down at Stanley. He was kneeling to draw out the instruments that had all been tagged as belonging to Martin Boon.

‘Looks like Mr Boon’s a bit of an amateur musician. With this lot he could have a full orchestra; there’s a mandolin, flutes, a squeeze box, a little saxophone, two flutes...’

Stanley reached further under the table to pull out the guitar case. He lifted it up and put it on the table.

Jane edged over beside him. The case looked cheap, the surface worn and in places peeling away. It had two clasps, both rusted. Stanley carefully turned it over to check for any labels. He could see patches with a residue of glue, suggesting they’d been removed.

‘OK, let’s open it up,’ he said.

Jane’s heart was pounding. If the guitar belonged to Sebastian Martinez, it would be the most incriminating piece of evidence they had discovered. Easing open the lid of the case, she saw the royal-blue velvet lining was torn, hanging in frayed edges. The guitar itself was covered in dust but it looked to be in perfect condition, with all the strings intact.

‘Should I take it out?’ Stanley asked. So far he had not touched it.

‘I think we wait for fingerprints, then we get Angelica Martinez to identify it,’ Jane said.

‘I agree, because if this has been left in the case for however many years, I doubt the strings would still be as taut as they look, so we might get the murderer’s prints as well as the victim’s.’

‘We have no prints for Sebastian Martinez,’ Jane said. ‘But I can see if his mother has anything of his. We will also need sets of prints from the Boons and the Larssons.’

‘You have been so certain for a long time, Jane. I’ve had my doubts, but you never budged. I respect that. However, we have to consider the possibility it might not be him. We could still find the rest of the body. Tomorrow the team will be checking out both back gardens, digging up their paved patios.’

Jane felt exhausted, too tired to really take on board what Stanley had said. There was nothing more to be done until tomorrow. She asked him to lock the boardroom to protect all the evidence and then left.

Walking along the corridor, Jane felt a black cloud of depression coming down like a dead weight. She went into the ladies’ room, taking deep breaths as she leaned against the cold edge of the sink.

She splashed cold water onto her face and pulled down the towel to pat it dry. Even if the guitar had belonged to Sebastian, there could be any number of reasons why it was found with Martin Boon’s collection of musical instruments. In a fit of temper, she pulled the roller towel down so harshly it almost came off the wall.

When she entered the incident room, most of the desks were empty. She paused in the doorway. Meryl was framed in a pool of light from an Anglepoise lamp, talking quietly on the phone in fluent German. Jane felt guilty, having completely forgotten about her. She must have been working since she left her at six o’clock.

‘Meryl?’

She turned towards Jane with a smile as she replaced the receiver. ‘I was just going to come and find you. I’ve traced Felix Schneider but I’m afraid he died two years ago.’

Jane sighed. For a moment she had thought there might be some positive news. She perched on the edge of the desk, which was littered with torn pages and lists of names and phone numbers.

‘But after a long round of calls, I found Mr Schneider’s daughter Erica. She is no longer using that surname as she is married and has her own dental practice. She was very helpful because she took over many of her father’s patients.’

Meryl thumbed through her notebook.

‘At first I didn’t think I would get a result, because we are looking at more than four years ago; in fact, it was even more than that, but as soon as I mentioned the name Hoffman...’

Jane closed her eyes. ‘Meryl, please tell me it’s good news.’

‘Yes, because when she took over the patients from her father’s surgery, there were a number of outstanding accounts, and one of the largest was for Sebastian Hoffman’s brace and retainer, along with Victor Hoffman’s outstanding bill for a root canal and a gold cap for a molar.’

‘Meryl, I am having palpitations. Does she have X-rays?’

‘Yes. She didn’t retain the plaster cast for her files, but she has the X-rays and accounts owing in her filing cabinet at her practice. I’m going to call first thing in the morning to arrange collection — I just wasn’t sure how to go about getting them sent over.’

Jane got up and wrapped her arms around Meryl. ‘Brilliant! You are a genius. Give me the details and I will organise the collection and get them on the first flight over to the UK.’

By the time Jane had everything she needed, her depression had lifted. Now we’ll see if it really is you, Sebastian, she thought to herself.