‘Here’s something easier. Have you identified her — L4G#2?’ Lexi asked.
‘No,’ Kofi answered. ‘But it’s interesting that there’s an illegal trade in body parts. Do you know? There’s a lot of money to be made, trading organs like hearts and lungs. The displaced and bodies stolen from mortuaries are prime sources. Look at L4G#1. Unshaven and unkempt, missing some valuable organs. There’s a possible connection. Which brings me nicely to L4G#3. He’s not one of the displaced, but he’s your most extreme victim.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s a major and he’s missing a heart, lungs, eyes, liver and kidneys. On top of that …’ Theatrically, he waved an arm over the lower part of the body. From the withered stomach, L4G#3 was nearly flat. ‘Almost all the bones below his waist have been harvested. That’s why he’s two-dimensional down there.’
‘You mean,’ Troy struggled to say, ‘someone’s taken his bones out? Why …?’
‘Bones are useful for making dental implants. He’s been fairly thoroughly ransacked for anything useful. Note the missing right hand. And there’s no skin on his back. I imagine that went to a burns victim.’
‘But all this … surgery would have been done after he died, wouldn’t it?’ Troy said. ‘I hope so.’
Kofi nodded. ‘The police were wrong about the cause of death.’
Troy was puzzled. ‘The police know about him?’
‘Yes. We’ve identified him …’
Troy interrupted. ‘Let’s drop the code, then. Show him some respect and use his name.’
Taken aback by Troy’s vehemence, Kofi replied, ‘Er … Sure. He’s Dmitri Backhouse — thirty-eight years old — and he went missing six weeks ago, presumed suicide …’
‘Suicide?’ Lexi exclaimed.
‘According to his medical notes, he’d tried twice before and failed. He’d visited lots of suicide chat rooms. The police assumed he’d succeeded on the third attempt.’
‘But …’
With a grin, Kofi said, ‘I know. He’s the first suicide I’ve come across who’s slit his own throat — that’s how he died — and afterwards removed various body parts before burying himself.’
‘So,’ Troy replied, ‘we’re talking assisted suicide or something more …’
‘Murderous?’ Lexi offered.
‘Assisted suicide’s murder. No, I meant, a more ordinary killing.’
‘I’ll upload everything for you,’ Kofi told them. ‘You know, I envy you two, in a way.’
‘How come?’ Lexi asked.
‘It’s a remarkable case. You’re lucky to get it.’
‘We’ll see,’ Lexi muttered.
On the way out, Troy asked Kofi, ‘Have you ever had any bodies stolen from here? I’m thinking about stuff being bought and sold for transplants. Have you got first-hand experience?’
The pathologist shook his head. ‘I know about it, but I’m not part of it.’
SCENE 5
As the driverless car approached the area where Dmitri Backhouse and the other two victims had been abandoned, Troy glanced across at Lexi. ‘Are you asleep?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said, slowly opening her eyes. ‘I’m meditating. At least, I was.’
Troy knew perfectly well that outers did not sleep. Instead, they switched off for short regular periods. Teasing her, he said, ‘Meditating? That’s just a fancy word for thinking, isn’t it?’
‘No. It’s the opposite of thinking — and much deeper. It’s a sort of mental drifting. A way of de-stressing. It stops impulsive reactions to emotional events — like crime. Afterwards, thoughts are much clearer. Much sharper.’ She looked at Troy and added, ‘You know what everyone does when their computer goes wrong?’
‘Turn it off and back on again?’
‘That’s what outers do up here.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘When our brains get cluttered, we turn them off and turn them back on again fifteen minutes later. Hey presto. Works every time — unless we’re interrupted.’
‘Well, we’re arriving. You’d have to snap out of it anyway.’
They left the car and walked first to the home of the witness who’d reported seeing the body they now called L4G#1. Her small rustic cottage lay near to the water treatment office, but out of its sight.
The woman who answered the knocker was in her fifties and she appeared to be in good health. Surprised that she should have visitors, she looked at the two young detectives and muttered, ‘Yes?’
Troy introduced himself and his partner. ‘We just wanted to ask you a few questions about your recent … find in the wood.’
Reluctantly, she stood to one side. Sighing, she said, ‘Come in.’
The living room was at the rear of the property and there were no trees to obscure the view over Langhorn Reservoir. Curiously old-fashioned, there was a large black wood-burner in one corner and a bulky television in another. Some ancient music was playing on an out-dated music system that Troy and Lexi hardly recognized. Modern technology had passed by Avril Smallcross.
She turned off the music and ushered them towards a sofa. ‘Sit,’ she said, almost as if talking to a pet dog.
Lexi remained on her feet but Troy perched on the edge of the leather couch. ‘Do you live here on your own?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘It must be lonely.’
‘The young and the old want different things out of life. Maybe you like the buzz of a city. I prefer peace and quiet.’
‘Do you work?’
‘Retired.’
Troy nodded. ‘You were out collecting wood.’
‘I walk a lot,’ Avril told him. ‘Keeps me fit. It’s a waste not to pick up wood for the stove while I’m at it.’
‘Have you ever seen people digging in the clearing?’
She frowned. ‘Not that I recall.’
Lexi said, ‘Did you go up close to the body?’
‘No. But close enough, thank you. What happened to the poor man?’
Troy didn’t want to go into details. ‘We’re still looking into it,’ he replied. ‘Did you recognize him? Have you seen him round here before?’
‘I didn’t exactly study him, but …’ Avril shook her head.
‘Have you ever worked in health or got involved in medical operations?’
‘No. What a strange question. Why?’
‘We were wondering if you’ve had anything to do with transplants.’
‘Oh, I see. You’re thinking of the clinic down the road. No. Never been there. Is it relevant?’
Troy shrugged. ‘Probably not.’ In truth, the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic was his main priority for the day.
‘You wouldn’t know by looking at me now,’ she said, ‘but I used to be a lifeboat pilot.’
‘Exciting,’ Lexi replied. ‘I always fancied being a pilot. Of anything fast. Anyway, have you got the shoes you were wearing when you found the body?’
‘Er … That’d be my walking boots. Yes.’
‘I need to take a photo of the tread.’
‘Why?’
‘There were shoeprints in the clearing. I need to eliminate yours,’ Lexi explained. ‘The rest might belong to whoever dumped the body.’
‘I see. Wait. I’ll get them.’
By the time they left Avril’s cottage, Lexi had several images of the soles of Avril’s walking boots on her life-logger and Troy had his thoughts about the woman who had stumbled across the primitive burial ground.
Together, Troy and Lexi retraced Avril’s route to the crime scene. There, Lexi retrieved her data logger, complete with its precious information on temperature. Encircled by police ribbon, the clearing was still guarded by officers and the search team was nearing the end of its hunt for a weapon and other clues.