Body on a fell

Teenagers out on a ramble decide to take shelter in a partially collapsed barn, to eat their lunch. As they sit with their sandwiches, a rat runs across the barn, disappearing into a pile of old timber. One of the boys goes to investigate, pulls some timber away, and finds the body of an old man.......

The Setting of Beacon Fell

Beacon Fell is a prominent hill known for its natural beauty and panoramic views. Located in a rural area, it has long attracted hikers, nature lovers, and those seeking solitude. The landscape is marked by woodland, open moorland, and winding trails. Its remote nature makes it a peaceful retreat, but also a place where unusual events can go unnoticed for some time.

The discovery of a body in such a location is unusual and raises immediate concerns about safety and security in what is typically a tranquil setting.

Body on a Fell

DC Alfy Morrow drank his coffee and contemplated the puzzle in front of him. The clue was ‘material dug back from the ground’. The answer was obviously ‘denim’, but the clue was wrong. It didn’t sound right. He would have preferred ‘material dug out backwards’. Alfy was about to rewrite the clue when his DS appeared.

‘Body on Beacon Fell. Let’s get going’

‘Right Sarge. Any idea of cause of death?’

‘Not obviously. But who knows? There doesn’t appear to be any blood and the body seems to be untouched. We’ll see when we get there.’

DS Matlock grabbed the keys to a pool car, and tossed them to Alfy, who would have to drive. Alfy eased the car out of the car park and headed onto Garstang Road and then the A6. Turning off the main road he headed up through the back roads to the Longridge side of Beacon Fell, and then down the small country lane where the body had been found. Before they arrived, a couple of other cars could be seen parked by a lane leading up to a small barn, only partially roofed. Alfy pulled in next to these, and they got out.

Tape had already been put up where the concrete track met the road. There were several tyre marks in the mud either side of the track here. More tape ran up both sides of the track and in front of the barn. The crime scene had been secured by a constable, who had had the forethought to tape off the lane, and got a thank you from DS Matlock.

They walked up the middle of the track to the area outside the Barn. Again, there were tyre tracks, and these displayed a pattern you would expect from a car doing a three-point turn to reverse direction.

‘That’s a good job of securing the scene. She’s done her best to preserve any trace in the muddier parts at the edge of the track,’ said Alfy as they walked.

‘She has. I’ll mention it to her sergeant when we get back to the station, replied DS Matlock.

‘Did you collar her number then, Sarge?’ asked Alfy mischievously.

‘Yes. HT356. Oh, very funny Alfy.’

They showed their warrant cards and signed the attendance register, and then walked on into the barn after putting on a white forensic suit and plastic overshoes. There were several bright lights illuminating the scene. The photographer was taking photos of a body next to a pile of decaying wood.

‘Has the pathologist been informed?’ DS Matlock asked of a uniformed sergeant.

‘Yes sir. He should be here shortly. Apparently, he wasn’t busy and was just waiting around for a call. Unusual that, they’re usually rushed off their feet.

‘That might have been sarcasm, Sarge,’ said Alfy.

The sergeant just looked blankly at Alfy, not being strong on nuance.

The SOCO were just finishing up when the pathologist, Abraham Sanders, arrived.

‘Right then. Let’s get to it,’ he said not waiting for introductions. He put his bag down next to the body and knelt down. The body had been partially covered with the old timber when the police had arrived, but this had been cleared away. Abraham, usually called Abe, checked the SOCOs had photographed the body in situ.  He looked over the body, asking one of the SOCOs to take a scrape of a sample of dried substance around, and another of a sticky liquid in the mouth. Then carefully turned the body over. He checked the back, and then asked the rear of the body to be photographed.

‘IC1 male. Dead for more than a day, possibly two. Or three. There are no signs of blunt force or other trauma. He has not been strangled. He has been sick. His mouth is full of it. Could you SOCO guys bag the head and hands. We’ll get the body moved back to the mortuary and the post mortem will be this afternoon. Thank you.’ With that Abe got up, nodded to the detectives and walked out.

‘I’m assuming that was the pathologist,’ said Alfy dryly.

‘Oh yes. Abe Sanders. You don’t get much from him at the scene. It’s a different story when he does a pm’.

The detectives were at the mortuary punctually to see the post mortem, and waited for it to start. Although Alfy had attended several post-mortems, the smell of the morgue still rankled in his nose. He thought it must be psychosomatic as it was a smell of heavy antiseptic and cleaner rather than putrid mortification. However, he knew it would change when he was nearer the body.

Eventually Abe was ready to start. He checked the microphone suspended above the table and started. ‘This is the body of an IC1 male, approximately 60 years old. He has some arthritis, as shown in his finger joints, and some eczema as shown by these patches on his arms and legs. There are some marks on his face which may have come from a gag, and also spider nevus. More important though is that his mouth is full of what appears to be vomit. We will investigate this further. There is some material under a couple of nails, which might be skin. If so we will get DNA from it. You will notice here on the wrists, marks, ligature marks. These are consistent with 5mm cable ties.’

Abe carried on, and cut the body open. He weighed the organs and checked the lungs and liver. The former had vomit in them, and the latter showed signs of cirrhosis. Next the stomach was opened, but was only partially full. Blood samples were taken, as where samples of the vomit from the mouth and lungs. The stomach contents were also checked, and these showed some, but not large traces of alcohol.

The result of the PM was death from asphyxiation caused by inhalation of vomit. This may have been an accidental death, but the marks around the face which could have been caused by a gag, and the place in which the body was found suggested otherwise. He had been dead for three to four days. When the toxicology screen came back it showed traces of toxic alkaloids found in poisonous mushrooms. Again, accident or malice?

The stomach contents showed no signs of ingestion of any mushroom, which would have explained how the man had been poisoned. The toxicology screen of the stomach contents had shown high quantities of muscimol and ibotenic acid, its neurotoxic precursor. As did the scrapings and sample of the liquid in the mouth. These alkaloids were found in the Fly Agaric mushroom. Rarely fatal if eaten, but could cause vomiting and worse, especially if concentrated.

The coroner in summing up the evidence stated the cause of death as unlawful, death by asphyxiation of vomit. Mainly on the grounds that the dead man had shown no interest in mycology, and the pathologist’s opinion that the concentration of alkaloids in the stomach was far higher than normally seen in accidental ingestion. Also, the lack of any pieces of fungi in his stomach.

Following the coroner’s verdict an investigation into murder was started. A team was pulled together and the victim came under microscopic examination. His name was Stanley Buggins, and lived in Darwen. He had been seen last, leaving a pub on a short walk home at 9pm. His usual route was through a street bordered on both sides by derelict industrial units to a new build estate where he lived with his wife, who had reported him missing the day after he was abducted.

Alfy, alongside his DS, were tasked to ask in the pub where Mr. Buggins had been drinking, for any information, and then to check the route home. They had managed to get a photo from his wife at their home which was a head and shoulders passport photo. Although many of the regular drinkers recognised the photo, they were unable to give the police much information. Most did not know his name other than ‘Stan’, and apparently Stanley kept himself to himself. The considered opinion was that he had left the pub at about 9.00pm that night, after about two, possibly three, pints of bitter.

When they got out of the pub, they checked the likely routes home and began to walk, noting CCTV on the route. When there was a choice of streets they split up. There was a traffic camera on the opposite side of the road to Cedar Avenue, about 25metres away, pointing towards the street. They got to the road that led directly to Stanleys housing estate having found nothing extraordinary. Alfy was following the gutter on one side of the road and he noticed a piece of paper, somewhat wet, but still showing some writing. After photographing it in situ he put on a glove and picked the paper up. One visible word was ‘cosh’.

‘Sarge, have a look at this. There appears to be a list on this paper, but I don’t want to unbend it as it might tear’, said Alfy.

‘Bag it and forensics can unravel it,’ replied the DS.

Alfy did so and they continued, walking into the estate and up to Stanleys door. There was nothing else that looked interesting. The piece of paper and the information from the pub was all they took back with them.

The forensics team was able to dry out and unravel the notepaper, and some more words were visible. Cosh, rope and plastic were clearly visible, as well as partial words, one being reasonably short beginning with ‘t’. Another followed plastic, ending in ‘ng’. They were also able to lift a partial fingerprint from a smudge, but this was too messy to get a hit on the database.

There were no cameras up by the barn, so no evidence from CCTV. The taped off area on the track up to the barn had revealed various tyre tracks and all had been photographed. The forensic team were working on these tracks to identify the vehicles that had been on the track. The evidence so far, was the toxicology screen, the route home from the pub, the tyre tracks and the list. The coroner had found the death to be aspiration asphyxiation following ingestion of poisons and not accidental. Investigation into the victim had given no leads so far.

‘Sarge, I wonder if it’s worth checking the immediate area around where we found the list? There is a possibility that there may be more tyre tracks.’

‘Mmmm. I agree it’s a small possibility. But we might as well take a look.’

They drove back to Walton-le-Dale, parked at the end of the street, and got out to look.

‘I found the list just here,’ said Alfy. ‘And look. There is a clear portion of a tyre print a couple of feet away.

‘Right. I’ll get onto SOCO and get them out here to process this area.’

While they waited for SOCO, the two detectives walked up and down the street a couple of times to see if they could find any more potential evidence. They were unlucky, so they radioed for some uniforms, and then blocked the street with crime scene tape. Until the uniforms came, they had to deal with a few unhappy residents. But most knew Mr. Buggins as a genial old man, and begrudgingly waited for SOCO to arrive and to finish.

SOCO checked the area for blood splashes though none could be found, secured photos of the tyre track, bagged a few bits of paper, but did not find anything else. One piece of good fortune came from SOCO. The partial tyre track from Darwen matched one of the tracks from the lane at the barn.

DS Matlock summed up what they knew. ‘It is safe to say that Mr. Buggins did not get home that night. He had only been drinking ale, and we have found no evidence that he got anything to eat on the way home. Therefore, the questions are: where did he imbibe the poison and who gave it to him? The other thing to consider is how he got to the barn and was he dead when he got there?’

‘I think he was kidnapped where we found the list, Sarge. The traffic camera has him arriving at Cedar Avenue about 9.40pm. After that we lose him. So once kidnapped he was taken somewhere and poisoned, his body being dumped at the barn. I think Sarge we need to check the CCTV at the street again, for cars going into and out. See what comes up. Then we need to check the recordings of the nearest traffic cameras to the barn, and cross ref them.’

DS Matlock agreed with Alfy and so various DCs were tasked with the work of checking CCTV. Alfy included. There were few cars arriving into the street on the night Mr. Muggins was last seen. And only one of those left the street before 6am the following morning. This was a blue Edge iA5, registration XX23***.

I

Some weeks earlier……He always liked to play God, to have the power of life and death over a living soul, and had had that power several times. Twice he had murdered people, and twice he had successfully raped women. He had not been caught. And now he felt he was over all that. He was a cured person.

That changed when he saw a programme about fungi, and the toxins produced by the Fly Agaric. He thought that if he could get hold of the toxin, and find a victim, he could feed the victim until he died. It would be a slow death.

Having the beginnings of a plan, he needed to refine details. He knew you could not buy the toxins, but having some knowledge of biology, knew he could produce a drink. There were several woods where he had walked, and spied on women from the bushes, and sometimes he jumped out and assaulted them. He knew he would find the right mushrooms there, it was only a question of time.

The next day he drove to the woods and parked up, walking around until he found a stand of birch trees. It was only a few moments before he found Fly Agaric fungi, and within half an hour had collected a decent quantity.

He drove home, mashed the fungi in a pestle and mortar into a gloopy liquid and added this to an old saucepan. To this was added added a small measuring jug of vodka to help dissolve out the toxins. After heating the saucepan gently, for ten minutes he had to open a window, the smell was atrocious. After a half hour he was left with a mushy liquid which he felt was enough. This he diluted with neat vodka.

He next drove to Walton-le-Dale, to assess out the feasibility of kidnapping someone there. The convenient thing with Walton-le-Dale was that he had arranged with some bloke on-line to purchase a rare original pressing of the Beatles white album. He knew this would cost him, but he wanted this for his collection.

The road that lead to the address of the man selling who the vinyl began at a junction to a secondary shopping street, takeaways, bookies and the like. The first two hundred metres of the street, Cedar Avenue, ran between two old industrial units. The walls were of brick, and dirty. There were no lampposts down this part of the street. As far as he could tell there was no CCTV either. Satisfied he had found an area that would not be overlooked, and dark with no lighting, he went home.

On the night he was due to collect the White Album he drove to Walton-le-Dale and entered Cedar Avenue parking up in the darkest place about one hundred feet in. It was 9.39pm, the seller of the vinyl did not get home until about 9.15pm from his shift. This was another factor working in his favour. He got out after and opened the boot fractionally. Inside there was a plastic sheet covering the base of the boot, with enough for an to wrap a body.

II

Walking home from his usual evening in the pub, an oldish man turned the corner into the street, at 9.47pm. He was short, reasonably over weight and was a bit unsteady on his feet. As the man approached the car, he became aware of another person standing next to it, in the dark. As he passed this man and processing his presence there, he suddenly felt a swift movement and a wad of thickly smelling material was forced over his mouth. The man who had grabbed him applied more pressure, and he felt himself falling into unconsciousness. He was unaware of being bundled into the boot, the sheeting wrapped around him, and the car driving off.

When he started coming out of his unconscious state, he was aware of a violent headache and feeling very sick. Much worse than he normally felt after his customary five pints of Waterindale Bitter. As he thought about this, he realised he was not at home, but in a darkened and dank room, lying on a rough mattress. He could also feel metal around his wrists, which were held above his head. As he tried to move his wrists he found he could only move it a couple of inches, and he felt a metal hook. He was cuffed to this.

Suddenly a light in the ceiling went on and although he was temporarily blinded, he heard a scraping noise in the ceiling. Looking up, he was dimly aware of movement. A ladder was put down and a man descended, momentarily blocking the direct light.

‘Who are you. What do you want.’

‘Oh, good you are awake. I have some medicine to help your sick feeling and headache. I sure you will like that.’ With that the shape approached him with a metal vessel, and held it to the man’s lips. It smelt horrible and tasted so, but he was forced swallow it. He started to feel sick, but was not, and the ‘shape’ fixed a  gaffer tape gag about his mouth.

‘Can’t have you making a noise and waking the neighbours.’ With that the shape left. The man waited a few minutes, feeling very nauseous. He tried to stand up, but the movement made him more sickly, and he waited until the feeling had ebbed away a bit.

Once he was able, he stood up and managed to move the handcuffs off the hook. Next, he tried to remove the gag, and was partially successful, but he vomited. Most came out around the gag, but enough did not, and this burnt the man’s throat. He sat down but could not remove the gag totally. Having his hands free, though still cuffed, he was able to feel around his cell. He felt a bucket, and spat as much of the sick into this as he could. He also needed to pee, so did so into the bucket.

All this movement made him sick again, and he vomited mostly into the bucket, but a significant amount stayed behind the gag. He could not get rid of it and was suddenly fearful of death. He was sick again, and it was then he realised he was going to drown in his own vomit. He felt consciousness slipping away to be replaced by a dwindling light. His last thought was ‘God forgive me’. And he died, a vomit soaked, slightly inebriated little man, all dignity of life stripped away.

Some days later…..

Forensics proved that both tyre tracks could have been made by an Edge iA5, and this was enough. The number plate was easily read from the cameras in Walton-le-Dale and the registered keeper identified. Alfy and DS Matlock drove to the address in Ingol, a converted barn, and parked in the drive outside the front door. To the right was a blue Edge iA5, standing in front of a separate double garage.

Ds Matlock rang the bell at the front door, and while they waited for it to be answered, Alfy strolled over to the blue car and had a look through the side windows. The interior of the car looked clean, there was no rubbish, papers or sweet wrappers. Alfy walked around to the boot and looked through the back window. As he bent down, he got a whiff of bleach. Sniffing again, he could definitely smell chlorine.

Straightening up he walked back to DS Matlock, and just as he got there the door opened to reveal a slightly overweight man of around 50 years.

‘Mr. Duncan Jeffries?’ asked DS Matlock showing his warrant card.

‘Er, yes. I’m Duncan Jeffries. How can I help?’

‘Good afternoon sir. I’m DS Matlock and this is DC Morrow. We wish to ask you some questions about a gentleman who went missing. Is it possible to come in and have a quick chat?’

‘Yes. Of course. Come on in. I don’t know how I’ll be able to help you. In here please.’

They were shown into a spacious living room, with several windows and were gestured towards a settee, which turned out to be very comfortable. The thought that it was getting a bit cosy, ran through Alfy’s head, but he pushed it to one side and concentrated on Duncan Jeffries. DS Matlock took the lead, Alfy made notes.

‘We are investigating a man who went missing in Darwen. We have trawled through CCTV, and seen that your car enters and leaves the street in which we think this man was kidnapped.’ DS Matlock stopped, and waited for Mr. Jeffries to answer.

‘Well, I have been to Darwen recently.’

‘For what reason? If you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I went five days ago to pick up an original pressing of the Beatles White Album. I wanted to check it was original before I bought it. It cost me enough, but I’m happy with it.’ Alfy noted that this timing fell in with the disappearance of Mr. Muggins.

Ds Matlock, guessing what the answer to his next question would be, asked: ‘When and where was that?’

‘The address was at the end of the street. Cedar Avenue, Number 35. Mr. Nuttall.’

Alfy wrote this down, knowing that the name of the street they were interested in had not been mentioned. Whether he was just being up front, or had not realised what he had said and dropped himself in it did not matter. They would check all these details. He had obviously been to this house, and bought this record. Alfy, was a little bit jealous, as he loved vinyl and did not have The White album, of any pressing.

‘And after you had picked up this album from W\alton-le-Dale what did you do then.’

‘We chatted for a few minutes about vinyls and our collections. I checked the record and handed over the cash. Mr. Nuttall counted it and was happy, and so I took the record and left. Do you want to see it.’

‘No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.’

‘Mr. Jeffries, I’ve not seen an Edge iA5 before, so I took the liberty of a quick glance at the car. It certainly looks a lovely piece. I did notice though a smell of bleach coming from the boot area.’ Alfy left it at that, and looked at Mr. Jeffries. As did DS Matlock.

Mr. Jeffries did not answer immediately. ‘I’d, I’d made a real mess taking some garden rubbish to the tip. Some of the plastic trimming was stained, so I took some bleach to it. Luckily it came off without damaging the trim.’

‘Do you know what had stained the trim Mr. Jeffries?’ asked Alfy.

‘No, I’m not sure, but there was some rotten compost. God knows what that had in it.’

‘Yes. That’s probably the case.’

‘Well, thank you Mr. Jeffries for your help. We’ll go now, but can I have a telephone number in case we have to contact you again.’

This was duly given and the two detectives left. Once back in the car, they drove off and then talked about the information that Mr. Jeffries had given them.

‘Well, that little chat was interesting. He obviously had a story ready, which is easily checkable. I thought his reaction when you mentioned the bleach was a bit hesitant. Okay, so the plan of action now. I want us to split up. When we get back to the station, I want you to contact this Mr. Nuttall. A phone call will suffice at the moment. I am going to check with the DI and see if we have enough evidence to get a search warrant. At the very least to get forensics to check that car boot over.’

‘Okies. I’ll do that. But I think we need to check the CCTV at the tip, which checking on the map is only two miles from the address, on Tom Benson Way. There are a couple of others so I’ll get those checked, as well. It maybe that I can just check the number plates recorded. It may even show him tipping stuff into the garden waste skip. That might be quicker.’

‘Good point Alfy. Find out how long Jeffries was at Mr. Nuttall’s. It must have been some conversation to fill the gap between the car entering and leaving the street.’

‘Yes, that would be worth asking. Also why was there a tyre print in leaf mould in the gutter. He didn’t offer any information that might have given us an idea why that print was there. He obviously doesn’t know about the tyre print, but I’ll bet the story will be that he stopped to have a good look at his new vinyl. I know I would. Something that rare is like the holy grail of vinyl. Especially if in excellent condition. It’s the Faberge of grooved sophistication.’

‘Do you know Alfy,’ DS Matlock raised one eyebrow, now knowing Alfy was an audiophile, ‘I agree. If we get a search warrant, the car and garages interest me. So, I’ll keep in touch and perhaps you can meet me back at Jeffries place. And then we will see what happens.’

When they got back to the station, Alfy found Mr. Nuttall’s telephone number on the system and rang him. The telephone rang a few times and then was answered by a male.

‘Hello.’

‘Hello is that Mr. Nuttall?’

‘Yes. Who is this?’

‘Hello Mr. Nuttall, I’m DC Morrow from Preston police station. I was hoping to ask you some questions about the other night. When Mr. Stubbins disappeared. I believe you had a visitor to purchase a copy of The Beatles White Album from you.’

‘Yes. That’s correct.’

‘Can you remember his name at all?’

‘Alex Jeffries I think. Why?’

‘We had his car on CCTV entering the street and leaving it. He said he had been to buy this album so I was just checking his story. What time did he get to your house?’

‘Well, it was quite late, about 10pm. I didn’t get home from work until just after 9pm that day, I work shifts. And he was anxious to get the vinyl, and couldn’t get to Walton-le-Dale until the following week, this week I guess.’

‘Did he hang about long?’

‘No. He came, we chatted about 5 minutes, he inspected the disc, paid me and went.’

‘So, he wasn’t with you for long then?’

‘No.’

‘Just one more question. When you came home did you see a car parked in the street?’

‘I didn’t come down the street. I got to the house from a path that goes to another main road, where the bus dropped me.’

‘Okay Mr. Nuttall, thanks for your time. That’s all for now. If we need anymore details we’ll get back to you.’ With that they said their goodbyes and Alfy hung up. Another interesting chat. DS Matlock was still waiting for his search warrant, and Alfy sought him out. He filled his DS in with the information from the call.

‘Mr. Nuttall said that Jeffries called around 10pm. He remembers this because he didn’t get in until after 9pm from work. He says that Jeffries only stopped long enough to have a quick chat about vinyl, check the record and pay in cash. Then he went. He wasn’t there very long. Certainly not as long as the period between the two CCTV sightings. Also, 10pm is at the end of that period. So, what had Jeffries been doing for the remainder of the time? I asked Mr. Nuttall if he had seen Jeffries car in the street leading to the houses. He said that he hadn’t because he had got to his house by a snicket which connects the houses to another main road. He caught the bus home to there.’

The telephone on DS Matlock’s desk rang. He picked it up and listened. ‘Thank you,’ was all he said as he put the receiver down. ‘We have the warrant. Let’s pick it up and go and see Jeffries.’

When they arrived they had to wait about fifteen minutes for the uniforms who would help do the search, and a forensic team. Again, DS Matlock knocked on the door. Jeffries opened it quickly and did not look happy.

‘Hello again Mr. Jeffries. You remember me? DS Matlock. I have here a warrant to search these premises.’

‘Oh well then. You had better come in. Resistance is futile I suppose?’

‘Quite so sir. Now if you will let us in and give us the keys to your car and to the garages, we’ll make this as quick as we possibly can. Thank you.’

Having got the keys, the forensics team unlocked the car and its boot. They then checked quickly for blood, using a dark torch. There were a few specks. The forensic officer found DS Matlock and told him, and it was decided to get the car taken to the police forensic depot. Meanwhile, constables searched the house where they bagged up Jeffries computer and mobile phone.

The garage was then searched. It had a car inspection pit in it. The bottom of this was covered with a single board. This was pulled up to reveal a trapdoor, which when opened, exposed a small cellar type room. This was barely seven by eight feet. There was a slightly sickly smell. When a torch was shined into the room it showed a rough blanket bed, in disarray, and a bucket.

Looking around the garage, a small ladder that would reach the bottom of the cellar was seen to be leaning against a wall. One of the constables hurried back to get DS Matlock, and he along with Alfy and Jeffries arrived in a couple of minutes. On being shown the cellar, DS Matlock instructed the forensic officers to go down and check the cellar over.

Whilst he was doing this Alfy was looking at a shelf of bottles and boxes. There was a box of coffee filters, oddly in a garage. Alfy had the SOCO officers photograph this, then bag it. Alfy saw a brown glass bottle, hidden at the back, which was marked Chloroform. Again this was logged by the forensics team. Alfy called the DS across, and showed him the bagged bottle.

In the back garden was an old brazier, used to burn twigs and leaves. In side were the remnants of some plastic sheeting. Alfy thought these might be pertinent as evidence, and so had these bagged. The forensic officer had found a length of material that could have been a gag. This too was added to the bagged items.

DS Matlock looked at Alfy and sighed. He turned to Jeffries and said to him.  ‘Mr. Duncan Jeffries, I am arresting you on the suspicion of the murder of Mr. Duncan Muggins, of number 14 Cedar Ave, Walton-le-Dale. At this time, I need to caution you that you do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’ With that Alfy applied handcuffs and Jeffries was led away to a police van.

When they got to the station, Jeffries was processed and put in a cell. The duty police doctor came and took a DNA swab sample, and Jeffries was left to stew for an hour or so while DS Matlock and Alfy got their facts in order.

‘Right Alfy. Run through the evidence for us will you please?’

‘Sarge. Firstly, we see Jeffries car going into the street at 9.12. This is before Mr. Muggins turns into the street at 9.23. That was the last time he was seen. Jeffries went to see a Mr. Nuttall, getting to his house at 9.57, bought the record and then left. His car is seen leaving the street at 10.03. There is an unaccounted 34 minutes for the car and Jeffries. Next, we have a partial tyre track on the street, and a more substantial one at the barn. Both sets are the same and could belong to an Edge iA5, as identified from the CCTV. We are awaiting a possible match between mud found in his tyres and the mud at the barn. At his home, we have found a secret cellar, with a makeshift blanket bed. There is material that might have formed a gag. DNA analysis should link this to our victim. Likewise, the bucket with what at first sight appeared to be urine and vomit. We have also found a bottle of chloroform. Messy, but could be used to subdue his victim. A box of coffee machine paper filters is an incongruous item to find in a garage. Maybe they were used to filter and concentrate the extract from the mushrooms. There was a smell of bleach, which Jeffries admitted using to clean his car, he says of garden rubbish. I cannot find any trace of his car going to any of the council recycling depots in the area, prior to the disappearance of Mr. Muggins. That is about it I think.’

‘Okay’, said DS Matlock, ‘let’s interview him’

Jeffries was brought to the interview room, reminded of his caution and asked if he wanted legal representation. So far he had not requested it, and to the surprise of the two detectives denied it now. Names were spoken out for the tape and the interview started.

DS Matlock outlined the evidence against Jeffries and asked for an explanation for this evidence. Why had there been a big gap between arriving in the street and getting to Mr. Nuttall’s door? Why were there tyre tracks which matched others found in the street. What was the cellar for? Why was there a bucket with urine and sick in? And the gag, why? At this point it was all circumstantial, as forensics had not corroborated anything. Jeffries declined to comment. He was led back to the cells, and it became a waiting game.

The forensic reports came back confirming that the mud in the tyre matched the mud at the barn, the DNA found in the vomit and urine from the cellar matched that of Mr. Stubbins. There was also matching DNA on the gag. The evidence that Jeffries was the murderer was overwhelming, and he was brought up against the magistrates the following morning to be charged and returned to prison on remand whilst he awaited his trial.

Jeffries had been careless. His DNA linked him to two other murders, and several sexual assaults in the area about Preston. These investigations, which had not been closed, were re-examined in the light of this evidence. Jeffries was going away for a long time.

The Superintendent, DCI and DI were delighted with the speedy conclusion to the murder inquiry. They were particularly pleased with DC Morrow, who they thought showed excellent progress and insight. It was suggested that he start to work towards his DS exams so that he could be promoted when a DS position became available. This he was happy to do.

Within three months he had completed his exams, passing with distinction. Because he wanted to stay at Preston, he was happy to wait for a position. And one did come up. DS Matlock transferred from Preston to Blackburn, joining the serious crime unit based there.

Alfy was duly promoted to Detective Sergeant, happily taking the praise from his colleagues, and eager to get stuck into the next case. It did not take long.