The Body Dealer (A DI Erica Swift Thriller Book 5) Read online

  The Body Dealer

  A DI Erica Swift Thriller

  Book Five

  ***

  M K Farrar

  ***

  Warwick House Press

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE BODY DEALER

  First edition. January 6, 2021.

  Copyright © 2021 M K Farrar.

  Written by M K Farrar.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  The Body Dealer (A DI Erica Swift Thriller, #5)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

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  Chapter One

  “Hurry up, will you, Max?” Leah Fairbank told the little terrier at her side. “You’re going to make me late.”

  The dog stopped to sniff at a patch of grass, apparently finding something of particular interest. She needed him to do his business so they could go home, and she could finish getting ready for work.

  The canal path was quiet this early in the morning. She came across the occasional jogger or other dog walker, but that was about it. To her left, set at a higher level than the canal and beyond a graffitied wall, loomed large red-brick-and black-metal warehouses. On the opposite side of the canal, those same style of buildings had been converted to expensive flats. She doubted it would be long before the industrial structures went the same way.

  Leah felt bad that she wanted to cut the walk short—especially when she’d be leaving Max alone all day—but she really was going to be late. Maybe it was her fault, and she should get up earlier to give him a bigger walk, but the alarm going off at six a.m. was already a struggle. She’d considered paying a dog walker to stop by after lunchtime and get him out again, but she was normally home by four and it didn’t seem worth it. Besides, those dog walkers charged a fortune.

  Max finished sniffing and trotted off again, pulling on the lead. He glanced back at her as though to say, ‘what are you waiting for?’ She sighed and kept going, putting more distance between herself and her flat. She’d bought the place after receiving an inheritance from her grandmother, so she didn’t have any landlord to tell her she wasn’t allowed pets, but on mornings like this, she found herself wishing she’d at least purchased a garden flat so she could just let Max out while she got ready. She would have appreciated the extra hour in bed.

  She was fully aware the dog was her baby substitute. At thirty-two, and without even a long-term boyfriend, never mind a husband, on the horizon, she was starting to feel like time was running out. With every one of her friends already married or popping out babies, she was being left behind. They’d used to want to go out clubbing, dancing until the sun came up, but now all they wanted was to stay home and watch Netflix with their other halves, while she was left on dating apps, desperately trying to find a stranger to spend her Saturday night with.

  Max pulled on the lead to some scent that he could detect but she couldn’t, and she followed along behind him, hoping whatever had caught his attention would be the signal for him to evacuate his bowels so they could go home again.

  Leah caught a whiff of something herself, and she frowned and lifted her nose to the air. She felt like the dog, sniffing around.

  What was the smell? It reminded her of a barbecue, though why someone would be cooking outside this early in the morning, she had no idea. Or perhaps it was still smouldering from the previous night. It wasn’t getting dark until almost eleven now and was light again by four. She thought it would be unlikely that someone was still barbequing until the early hours of the morning, but she wouldn’t put it past people. She remembered being in her twenties and rarely leaving a club before it was daylight outside, but those days were few and far between recently. Now, she was more likely to be found on her sofa with a glass of wine, something decent on the television, and Max tucked up beside her.

  Whatever it was the dog had smelled hadn’t done the trick, and he set off along the empty canal path. Leah let out a groan and kept going. She was going to be stupidly late if she didn’t head back soon, but she knew if she shut Max back in the flat before he’d done his business, she’d be worrying all day about what she’d end up coming home to.

  Ahead, a spiral of grey smoke curled into the air. Alarm jolted through her. That looked far bigger than a leftover barbecue. Was something on fire?

  Leah picked up her pace, dragging Max along behind her. It was still early, and if someone’s house was on fire, the family inside might be asleep and unaware. Or perhaps it was a business that was burning, or even one of the canal boats. People lived on those boats, too. Yes, from the direction of the smoke, it seemed to her that it wouldn’t be a house—they were set too far back from the water. And it couldn’t be a car fire because cars couldn’t drive down the canal path.

  Max appeared happy at this unexpected burst of energy and broke into a run beside her, tongue hanging out, short legs scurrying to keep up.

  She rounded the corner and drew to a halt. Max didn’t stop, however, and the lead slipped from her fingers.

  “Max!” she cried.

  The dog kept going for a few more steps then stopped as well, though it had nothing to do with Leah calling his name. He let out a whimper and backed up a few steps.

  Something was burning in the middle of the path.

  The barbecue smell grew even stronger, and Leah covered her nose and mouth with the back of her hand. She crouched and scooped the end of Max’s lead back up, not wanting him to run any closer to whatever it was that was burning.

  What was that?

  Leah reached into her pocket for her phone. She needed to call the fire brigade. She couldn’t just ignore it. The warehouses adjacent to the canal path might have flammable items or explosives stored inside. Maybe explosives were unlikely, but certainly flammables.

  The smell was overwhelming. What was it about the smell that made her stomach turn so badly? Saliva filled her mouth, and she turned and gagged. She needed to keep it together. She couldn’t make a phone call to the emergency services while she was throwing up.

  She swiped the screen to dial and pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Emergen
cy,” a female despatcher answered. “Which service?”

  “Umm, fire, but they’re probably going to want to bring the police as well.”

  “One moment, I’m connecting you. Are you okay to hold? You’re not in any immediate danger?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Immediate danger? Was she in any danger? She looked around, behind her, up into the buildings adjacent to the canal path. Was whoever had done this still here? She didn’t even know exactly what was happening yet.

  The call connected. “Hello, fire service.”

  “Hello, something’s on fire on the canal path.”

  “Can you give me your location?”

  Her mind whirred, trying to place herself on a map. How far had she walked? What road was she near? “I’m in Limehouse, near Morris Road, I think. But I’m down on the canal path.”

  “And can you describe what’s on fire?

  “I-I’m not sure.”

  “A building? A car?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  What was burning?

  With the phone still pressed to her ear and her other hand covering her mouth—Max’s lead hooked around her wrist—she took a couple of steps closer. Was it some kind of animal? A really big dog? She hoped not—she liked dogs and hated to think that someone would do this to an innocent animal. But there were gangs of youths around who didn’t seem to have an ounce of empathy between them, and they probably had it in them to hurt an animal in such a way.

  Her eyes sought the details between the smoke and flames, a part of her not wanting to know, while the other part needed to make sense of what she saw. Was the distinct tang of burning hair due to the animal’s fur? But no, that wasn’t fur that was on fire, it looked more like fabric.

  Why would an animal be wearing clothes? Had someone wrapped it in a blanket before setting fire to it?

  Those weren’t paws, those were fingers.

  Oh God. The truth of what was in front of her hit her. That was no dog.

  Leah staggered back, her hand clutched to her mouth. She suddenly became aware that there was still a call handler on the phone.

  “Hello? Is everything okay? Are you still there?”

  “The-the-thing burning,” she stuttered. “I think it’s a person.”

  “A person?”

  “I think a woman is on fire.”

  The nausea she’d been fighting ever since she’d caught the first hint of smoke on the air—perhaps some primal part of her understanding the smell was human flesh burning—took over. She folded in half and lost the tea and toast she’d had for breakfast to the canal path.

  Chapter Two

  The narrow canal path was a hive of activity.

  Uniformed officers had been positioned at either end, securing the scene with an outer and inner cordon. The Marine Policing Unit had been called in to ensure canal boats couldn’t travel across the water. There were also arson investigators at the scene.

  A charcoaled lump smouldered in front of them.

  SOCO moved around the crime scene, photographing the remains of the body and anything else of interest, setting down markers and collecting anything that could be evidence and bagging it.

  DI Erica Swift could already tell this was going to be a difficult case, but she liked a challenge.

  It was still early—only just gone seven a.m.—but the morning had a warmth to it. The sky was a clear blue, and sharp spikes of sunlight glinted off the water. Erica wished she’d thought to grab her sunglasses from the car.

  She wrinkled her nose at the odour carried on the air.

  “It has a—” Shawn said from beside her, seeking the right word “—distinctive smell, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be looking forward to anything flame-grilled anytime soon.”

  Police Sergeant Diana Reynolds turned towards them as they approached. Tall, with spikey blonde hair, she had a commanding air about her. “DI Swift, DS Turner, sorry to get you out so early.”

  “Not at all,” Erica said. “What have we got?”

  “We’re not completely sure yet. We believe the body is female, but it’s impossible to say without a postmortem examination. Thirty-two-year-old Leah Fairbank was walking her dog first thing when she came across the body.”

  “It’s always the dog walkers,” Shawn commented.

  Erica pulled a face. “Puts me off wanting to get a dog.” Not that she’d ever have time for a pet.

  Reynolds continued. “She placed a triple-nine call from her mobile at six forty-four and said something was burning, but she didn’t know what. It wasn’t until she was talking to the call handler that she realised it was a body.”

  Erica stepped closer to get a better view. They’d already pulled on protective gear when they’d passed through the outer cordon.

  She exhaled a sigh of frustration at the amount of water that had been sprayed over the scene. “I know the fire brigade were just doing their job, but all that water will have destroyed any evidence.”

  “I’m not sure we’d have got much off the body anyway,” Shawn said. “The fire would have taken care of most of it.”

  “I’m going to assume that was the point in burning it.” Erica looked around. “How did the body get here?” Access wasn’t great. They wouldn’t have been able to get a vehicle down here. The fire brigade had been forced to put out the flames via the adjacent wall.

  “We’re not sure yet,” Reynolds said. “There are steps leading down to the canal path, but the nearest ones are still some distance away. I don’t know why the body would end up here.”

  Shawn shielded his eyes from the sun and peered up at the warehouses. “Could it have come from one of the buildings? Jumped off the top, or pushed out of one of the windows?”

  The police sergeant joined him. “It’s a possibility, yes, though we’ll know more once the postmortem examination has been done. If what remains of the body has numerous broken bones, that’ll definitely be a line of enquiry to consider.”

  “What about CCTV?” Shawn asked.

  Reynolds pointed to the warehouses. “There’s cameras on the buildings over there, so we’ll request footage. Hopefully, they’ll have caught something.”

  CCTV always made their job easier. “What about witnesses?”

  “Other than the woman who called in the body, there are a number of canal boats moored farther down the canal. I’ve got officers interviewing the people living in them, see if they heard or saw anything. They’ll be knocking on the doors of the flats opposite, too.”

  “Good.” Erica approved. “Are we assuming someone did this to the body rather than them doing it to themselves?”

  She shrugged. “We can’t say for sure at this moment.”

  “Did the first witness hear any sign of a struggle before finding the body?”

  Reynolds huffed air out of her nose. “She says not, but she’s only been interviewed by one of my uniformed officers so far. She’s been taken down to the station for you to speak to. She was in a bit of a state by the time we turned up.”

  “Is that her vomit over there?” Erica nodded to a marker next to a pile of sick. Someone had clearly lost their stomach.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Great.” Erica rolled her eyes. “More contamination of the scene.”

  “Can’t say I blame her,” Shawn said. “That’s a smell you’re not going to forget quickly.”

  Erica considered what she’d learned so far. “I think if the victim had done this to themselves, it would have been unlikely they’d have been quiet enough not to be heard.”

  “Same thing goes for them still being alive if someone else set fire to them,” Reynolds pointed out.

  Shawn gestured to the canal. “And if the victim was still alive when they were set on fire, wouldn’t they have just jumped into the water to put out the flames?”

  “Not if they were too badly hurt, or unconscious,” Erica said.

  Shawn nodded thoughtfully. “Whi
ch still points towards someone else having done this to them.”

  Reynolds jerked her chin towards the adjacent warehouses. “Hopefully, the CCTV will give us a better idea.”

  “Why this spot?” Erica looked around, trying to get into the mind of whoever was responsible for the charred corpse. “Why choose this place to set fire to the body?”

  “Secluded,” Shawn suggested. “No passing traffic.”

  “Possibly. They must have realised it was near impossible for the fire service to get down here, so it gave the body more of a chance to burn and destroy any evidence.” She turned her attention back to the body. “Can we tell anything from the victim, from what we have left?”

  “It’s going to be on the pathologist to scrape together what they can,” Reynolds said. “The witness said during the emergency call that she thought it was a woman.”

  Erica shot the police sergeant a look. “The body was still recognisable at that point?”

  “Yes, though by the time the fire brigade got here and figured out the access situation, seventeen minutes had passed, and the body had burned down to what you can see now.”

  Erica let out a long sigh. “It’s going to be a struggle to get much information out of it, especially after the water damage.”

  “Yes,” Reynolds concurred. “The teeth might be intact enough to get a match, but cause of death is going to be almost impossible, assuming she wasn’t burned to death.”

  Erica turned back to Shawn. “We’re not going to know any more until we get the postmortem examination reports and SOCO reports back. I suggest we go down to the station and have a chat with the witness.”

  “Agreed,” Shawn said, slipping his sunglasses out of his pocket and putting them on his face. He gestured at her still squinting in the sunlight. “Missing something?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “A good friend would lend me his.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not that good a friend.”

  AN HOUR LATER, THEY were back at headquarters. Before Erica could head to the interview room where she’d been told Leah Fairbank was waiting, one of her detective constables, Hannah Rudd, hurried up to her.