Few domestic murders were ever planned meticulously in advance and from what he had seen of Niall himself, a man with a clearly volatile temper, and from what the neighbour had reported, this had all the hallmarks of a classic and tragic argument gone too far. If he had murdered his wife, Ashdown Forest would have been geographically perfect for Niall Paternoster. The internal police statistics on deposition sites showed that normally killers would drive their victim’s bodies a maximum of thirty miles from the crime scene, wanting as short a journey as possible for fear of either being stopped and searched or having a crash.
Ashdown Forest, with its mix of open heathland and dense woods, spread over a wide area, made it tricky to search, and Grace wanted this done quickly. With the current warm weather, a body would decompose rapidly, making the task of forensic examination increasingly hard. There was also the risk, in woodlands, of foraging animals carrying off body parts for food and clothing items for nests and lairs. If the killer was fortunate, a body in a shallow woodland grave could be completely gone in just a few weeks. And if the body was already dismembered, which is what this sounded like, that could happen much faster — in just days.
Grace went through a mental checklist, rattling off items to Branson. ‘After the POLSA has made the assessment, get the team to search the immediate area of the forest car park. Get the handlers to bring cadaver dogs. At the same time, put a drone up to do a wider sweep.’
Human bodies were heavy to carry, so if Eden had been buried intact, her body was likely to be close to the car park. But if it was only body parts he was carrying, Niall could have ventured much further away. ‘Deploy the volunteer search team — see if you can get them out today. And one other thing: we may well need the help of the pollen lady, depending on what’s found in the forest. If it’s what we expect, pollen evidence on the foot pedals of his car and on his shoes might help put him at the scene.’
‘All noted, boss. I don’t think your good buddy, the ACC, will be happy sanctioning the cost of the dive team and all this as well.’
Ever since Sussex Police’s own dive team, the Specialist Search Unit, had been dismantled, they now used the services of a private firm. They were highly effective but didn’t come cheaply.
‘No,’ Grace replied with a smile, so absorbed back in his work that he had momentarily forgotten the nightmare this day had become. ‘He won’t.’
44
It was over an hour after he had ended the call with Glenn Branson before the A&E consultant returned to give Roy and Cleo an update on Bruno. Adrian Burton looked more gravely serious than he had previously. Roy and Cleo were sitting together holding hands and comforting each other.
‘The report I have from the orthopaedic consultant who’s viewed the trauma CT scans is that Bruno has multiple fractures to his lower legs, rib cage, right hip and left shoulder. These are relatively easy fixes. He does also have, as we suspected, a ruptured spleen, and he is currently in theatre having an emergency splenectomy. That is a very straightforward process and people can make a full recovery with that, although they will be dependent on some medication on a permanent basis.’
Grace looked at him, sensing something more was to come. He could see it in Cleo’s face, too. ‘But?’ he asked, pushing the question out there.
Adrian Burton nodded solemnly. ‘I’m afraid there is a but, yes. Bruno’s head has suffered a massive trauma, and possibly a secondary one, consistent with hitting two hard surfaces — in my experience of such collision victims his head would have come into contact first with the vehicle’s windscreen and then with the road. He doesn’t have a fractured skull, which is a positive, but he’s not waking up, which is a concern. We’ll be doing an MRI scan after twenty-four hours.’
‘What is his potential brain injury, in layman’s language?’ Grace asked.
Cleo interjected. ‘Swelling.’
Burton nodded. ‘Because of his ruptured spleen and his dropped blood pressure, there’s been a further insult to his brain — which we call a secondary brain injury — hypoxia. The team are doing all they can to try to get Bruno’s numbers right and to extubate and stabilize him — and hopefully limit the hypoxia. He’s been given three sets of drugs — ketamine to sedate him, rocuronium, a paralysing agent, and alfentanil, an analgesic.’
‘So, in your opinion, doctor, what is his prognosis?’ Grace asked.
‘I’d be lying if I told you both it was good. It isn’t — but he’s got a strong heart and for the moment we’ve just got to hope for the best.’
‘And pray?’ Cleo asked.
Burton smiled thinly. His eyes signalled, Why not?
‘I know you’re giving him the best care you can,’ Grace said. ‘But is there anywhere — a neurological unit in some other hospital — London, perhaps — that has any facilities you don’t have here? I don’t mind what it costs — we’ll pay for a helicopter, or anything.’
At this moment, Grace thought, he would pay every penny he had in the world to save this boy. Even if it meant selling their house.
Burton shook his head. ‘We’re a regional major trauma centre, we’ve got a neuro ICU, and in this acute episode he’s better off here. If you were talking about rehab in the future, then we could look at that, but we are a long way off from that at the moment. Even if there was a better facility somewhere, he is so unstable at the moment that I honestly don’t think he would survive the journey.’
His words slammed into Roy’s stomach like a massive punch.
Dimly, he was aware of Cleo taking his hand.
‘Bruno’s being moved to the ICU — I’ll come back soon and take you up to see him,’ Burton said and left the room.
45
At 3 p.m., Jon Exton and Norman Potting returned to the Brighton custody centre to carry out their third interview with Niall Paternoster, in the presence of his solicitor.
Seated across the table in the interview room, after completing the formalities, Exton asked, ‘Can you tell us about your movements each day last week, Niall?’
Niall ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, thinking. ‘Yeah, Eden was at work all week and I did some taxi-driving. Early in the week I had a few airport runs from Heathrow and Gatwick, and in between those I tried to get out on my bike as much as possible and enjoy the weather. The second part of the week was quieter for me, mostly local pickups off the ranks.’
Exton continued, ‘Did you work every evening?’
‘Yes, except Thursday — such a glorious evening, we had a barbecue in the garden.’
Exton said, ‘Was the barbecue a success?’
Niall glanced at his solicitor, who frowned back. Then replied, ‘I’m not sure what you mean by a success?’
‘Simple,’ Exton replied. ‘Did you both enjoy it, have a nice, happy evening?’
‘Is this relevant?’ Rattigan asked.
‘It is, yes,’ Exton responded.
Niall replied, ‘Yes, it was a success, I think, we both enjoyed it — although we did have a minor disagreement over the smoke that was coming from the meat.’
‘A minor disagreement? Can you tell us about that?’ Exton asked.
Niall smiled, a little nervously. ‘Eden is a perfectionist and was giving me tips on how to cook the steaks. She was moaning that there was too much smoke. Although we had a few words it was good-natured, nothing nasty.’
‘OK,’ Exton said. ‘So the barbecue went well. How much had you both had to drink?’