Inspector,’ Reverend Partridge interrupted. ‘I thought the poor soul should be brought down.’
Pendragon placed a hand on the cleric’s upper arm ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Reverend, but the Police Pathologist will be here soon. We should let him deal with it.’ And he encouraged Reverend Partridge to turn away.
‘Quite right. I understand,’ the vicar replied woodenly as Pendragon walked across the grass, still with his hand on the older man’s shoulder. The vicar was clearly in shock. ‘I’ll, em … I’ll be in the vestry. Don’t hesitate …’
‘Thank you,’ Pendragon said, and watched the man walk slowly towards the sanctuary of his church.
A small crowd had gathered at the other side of the railings to the churchyard, twenty yards away from the crime-scene. As Pendragon watched them, a patrol car pulled up next to the ambulance, and behind that came a grey four-wheel drive with Dr Jones at the wheel.
Pendragon called Turner over and they strode across the grass towards the new arrivals. The DCI waved to Jones as the pathologist clambered from his car and started to make his way between a couple of gravestones towards the tree. Pendragon and Turner waited for two uniformed officers to emerge from the back of the squad car and for Inspector Grant to come round from the driver’s side. ‘You two, get that crowd cleared,’ the DCI told the uniforms, and indicated the gathering with a brief inclination of the head. ‘Grant, I want this place sealed off. I want a screen around that tree. I don’t want anyone without a valid reason for being there within a hundred yards of it. Turner, you come with me.’
They headed towards the ambulance. Sergeant Mackleby looked up as they approached and hopped down from the tailgate, her back straight.
‘Relax, Sergeant,’ Pendragon told her, and looked down at the young woman nursing her drink. She was staring at the ground. He glanced at Roz Mackleby, who raised her eyebrows. ‘Sally Burnside,’ she said quietly. ‘Found the … er … body on her morning run.’
Pendragon sat down beside the young woman. ‘Ms Burnside,’ he said.
‘Sally,’ the woman replied, looking up suddenly. Shebrushed a strand of blonde hair from her face and took a deep breath. ‘I’m okay now.’
‘Look, I think anyone would …’
‘No, really, I’m good.’
Pendragon paused for a beat and looked up at Turner who had his notebook out. ‘I’m DCI Jack Pendragon. I’m in charge of this case. This is Sergeant Turner.’
The woman glanced briefly at Jez and took another sip of her drink.
‘Do you feel up to re-telling us what happened?’
‘I told you, Chief Inspector, I’m fine.’ Then she burst into tears.
The police officers were silent, letting the young woman cry it out. After a few moments, Roz Mackleby leaned in with a tissue. Sally Burnside took it and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry …’ she began.
‘There’s absolutely no need to apologise,’ Pendragon said, and waited for her to gather her thoughts.
‘I was on my usual morning run. I almost always take the path through the churchyard.’
‘What time was this?’
‘Just before seven. I was a bit late this morning. I came round from there.’ She pointed back along the path to where it curved close to one corner of the church. ‘I saw this odd thing hanging in the tree. I couldn’t make it out. As I came closer, I still had no idea what it was. It looked like a tarpaulin to me.’ She paused for a second and took another couple of deep breaths. ‘Then I realised what it was.’
‘And you called 999 straight away?’
‘Yes, I had my mobile.’
‘The call was logged at four minutes past seven, sir,’ Turner commented.
‘Did you see anyone else in the vicinity?’
‘No, no one at all.’
‘Was that from the moment you ran into the churchyard? Think about it carefully, Sally.’
She shook her head. ‘No one. There were people out on the street, around Stepney Way.’
Pendragon placed a hand on the cleric’s upper arm ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Reverend, but the Police Pathologist will be here soon. We should let him deal with it.’ And he encouraged Reverend Partridge to turn away.
‘Quite right. I understand,’ the vicar replied woodenly as Pendragon walked across the grass, still with his hand on the older man’s shoulder. The vicar was clearly in shock. ‘I’ll, em … I’ll be in the vestry. Don’t hesitate …’
‘Thank you,’ Pendragon said, and watched the man walk slowly towards the sanctuary of his church.
A small crowd had gathered at the other side of the railings to the churchyard, twenty yards away from the crime-scene. As Pendragon watched them, a patrol car pulled up next to the ambulance, and behind that came a grey four-wheel drive with Dr Jones at the wheel.
Pendragon called Turner over and they strode across the grass towards the new arrivals. The DCI waved to Jones as the pathologist clambered from his car and started to make his way between a couple of gravestones towards the tree. Pendragon and Turner waited for two uniformed officers to emerge from the back of the squad car and for Inspector Grant to come round from the driver’s side. ‘You two, get that crowd cleared,’ the DCI told the uniforms, and indicated the gathering with a brief inclination of the head. ‘Grant, I want this place sealed off. I want a screen around that tree. I don’t want anyone without a valid reason for being there within a hundred yards of it. Turner, you come with me.’
They headed towards the ambulance. Sergeant Mackleby looked up as they approached and hopped down from the tailgate, her back straight.
‘Relax, Sergeant,’ Pendragon told her, and looked down at the young woman nursing her drink. She was staring at the ground. He glanced at Roz Mackleby, who raised her eyebrows. ‘Sally Burnside,’ she said quietly. ‘Found the … er … body on her morning run.’
Pendragon sat down beside the young woman. ‘Ms Burnside,’ he said.
‘Sally,’ the woman replied, looking up suddenly. Shebrushed a strand of blonde hair from her face and took a deep breath. ‘I’m okay now.’
‘Look, I think anyone would …’
‘No, really, I’m good.’
Pendragon paused for a beat and looked up at Turner who had his notebook out. ‘I’m DCI Jack Pendragon. I’m in charge of this case. This is Sergeant Turner.’
The woman glanced briefly at Jez and took another sip of her drink.
‘Do you feel up to re-telling us what happened?’
‘I told you, Chief Inspector, I’m fine.’ Then she burst into tears.
The police officers were silent, letting the young woman cry it out. After a few moments, Roz Mackleby leaned in with a tissue. Sally Burnside took it and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry …’ she began.
‘There’s absolutely no need to apologise,’ Pendragon said, and waited for her to gather her thoughts.
‘I was on my usual morning run. I almost always take the path through the churchyard.’
‘What time was this?’
‘Just before seven. I was a bit late this morning. I came round from there.’ She pointed back along the path to where it curved close to one corner of the church. ‘I saw this odd thing hanging in the tree. I couldn’t make it out. As I came closer, I still had no idea what it was. It looked like a tarpaulin to me.’ She paused for a second and took another couple of deep breaths. ‘Then I realised what it was.’
‘And you called 999 straight away?’
‘Yes, I had my mobile.’
‘The call was logged at four minutes past seven, sir,’ Turner commented.
‘Did you see anyone else in the vicinity?’
‘No, no one at all.’
‘Was that from the moment you ran into the churchyard? Think about it carefully, Sally.’
She shook her head. ‘No one. There were people out on the street, around Stepney Way.’
Similar Books
