The Ties That Bind

Thursday, 5pm

Laura Turner had been watching the kettle boil for what seemed like an eternity. She followed the steam with her gaze as it finally began to rise from the spout, its swirling motion leaving damp trails across the kitchen window. Sighing, she poured the water into her waiting mug, the scent of jasmine tea filling her nostrils as she did so. She let the sensation overwhelm her briefly, breathing in the calming, Oriental aroma as she surveyed her surroundings. There were boxes everywhere she looked, piled in all corners of the room, each neatly labelled in marker pen, informing her of their contents – saucepans, crockery, cooking utensils, all waiting to be unpacked, to be found places in her new kitchen, in her new house. God, she hated the thought of going through it all almost as much as she had hated packing her life up in the first place. Still, she thought bitterly, she hadn't really had a choice in the matter. He had taken that choice away when he'd had the affair. Fourteen years of marriage destroyed in a heartbeat. She felt her own heart constrict at the thought, at the thought of some other woman now living with him in what had been their house but she forced the feeling down into her stomach. Damn him. She had wanted to get as far away from him, from them, as possible. A new city, a new life...disruption for our children. Guilt welled within her as she thought about his final words to her but the emotion was quickly replaced by anger. How dare he lecture me on disruption for our children when he's the root cause of it all?! She took a deep breath and a sip of hot tea, willing herself to calm down. I swore I wouldn't get like this, I swore...

"Mum!"

Laura was startled from her reverie at the sound of her son's excited voice as he came running into the kitchen from the garden, his blond hair ruffled, his face flushed. With considerable effort, she forced her thoughts away from her ex-husband and smiled at her son, shaking her head. "Charlie, what have I told you about coming in here with shoes on?"

"Mum, Benny's found something in the garden!" The seven year old was tugging at her hand. "Come and see!"

She sighed, gesturing to the disarray around her. "Oh, Charlie, I've got loads to do here..."

"But it's bones, Mum! You've got to come and see!"

Laura looked at her son fondly, his enthusiasm for their dog's find warming her heart. "Benny's always digging up bones, Charlie. Don't you remember in the old house? He was always digging up cat's bones, other dog's bones..."

Charlie shook his head insistently. "These are real bones, Mum, people bones! There's a skull and everything! Come and see!"

Oh my God. Laura felt her blood turn to ice at his words and, slipping her shoes on, followed Charlie into the garden hurriedly, her heart thumping, all of her previous concerns forgotten. Their German Shepherd, Benny, was scratching enthusiastically at the earth at the end of the small patch of grass, his eager nose sniffing the ground, his attention focussed on his finding. Laura grabbed his collar, pulling the dog towards her, her other hand covering her mouth as her eyes fell on the diminutive human skeleton, which he had uncovered.

"Oh my God..." She breathed, momentarily transfixed by the gruesome sight, bile rising from her stomach and into her throat as her mind struggled to process what she was seeing. She felt her throat tighten as realisation struck her. Jesus Christ, it's a child...

"What should we do, Mum?"

It was Jen, her thirteen year old who had spoken, her elfin face pale as Laura turned to look at her, her features creased with worry. Laura took a shaky breath.

"Get me the phone, love. I need to ring the Police."

Friday, 7.15am

Grace Foley slipped out of her dressing gown and under the hot water of her shower, the powerful jets hitting her skin. She closed her eyes, running her hands through her short, dark blond hair as the water began to refresh her tired body, preparing her mind for the day ahead. Grace reached for her shampoo, the fresh lemon-grass and coconut scents subtly emanating forth as she opened the bottle. She massaged the fragrant fluid into her scalp, smoothing it through the sodden strands of her hair, revelling in the sensation of cleansing her body from the strains of the previous day.

The shrill sound of her telephone ringing made Grace jump sharply and she braced herself against the shower tiles briefly to regain her composure. Shit, she thought, pushing the perspex door open and grabbing her towel from its heated rail, pulling it about her dripping body as she padded across the landing and down the stairs to her telephone table. The phone was still ringing incessantly as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" She said, hoping she had successfully concealed her slight breathlessness.

"Grace, hi."

The deep, familiar voice on the other end of the line sounded remarkably alert considering the time of day.

"Boyd?" She asked, frowning. "Everything all right?"

Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd sighed audibly. "I've just had a call from the CID. A child's skeleton was discovered yesterday afternoon in a back garden in Kensington."

Grace winced. Despite her exhaustive experience as the psychological consultant for the Cold Case squad at the Metropolitan Police, she had never become completely comfortable with receiving such news. "God. And they want us to handle it?"

"Yeah. Their preliminary forensic assessment was that it's been in the ground for a while, so..."

"It's a cold case?"

"Apparently so." He paused briefly. "I'd like your initial thoughts, Grace. Can you meet us at the scene?"

"Of course, yeah, just...give me a few minutes to get dressed, eh?"

"You're not dressed?" He sounded amused as he spoke. Grace could imagine his expression.

She smiled. "You caught me in the shower, in fact."

He groaned deeply and she felt the vibrations against her ear. "Mind my blood pressure, Grace."

Grace felt herself flush unexpectedly at his comment but she recovered smoothly. " I won't be long." She said.

"See you in a bit."

She hung up the phone then, trying not to let her mind dwell on Boyd as she hurried up the stairs to her bedroom, pulling her towel more tightly about her rapidly chilling skin

The garden was a hive of activity when Grace arrived. A white evidence tent had been erected, she assumed by the first forensic teams on site, in order to protect the discovery in the ground from the elements and from scene contamination. At present, it was also partially concealing the huddled form of Dr. Frankie Wharton, clad in her customary protective suit, as she knelt to begin her examinations. Boyd was standing next to her, sipping coffee from a chipped blue mug.

"Hi." He opened as she approached.

"Hi." She replied before transferring her attention inside the tent. "Hi, Frankie."

"Morning, Grace." Frankie's throaty voice was muffled beneath her face mask.

Grace turned back to Boyd, adjusting her scarf to better protect her against the bitter chill of the winter air. "What's the story, then?"

Boyd took another draw from his drink before replying. "Mel and Spence are interviewing the woman and the kids now but the gist is that their dog uncovered the bones late yesterday afternoon. Woman calls the Police, uniforms call the CID, their forensics people take one look and estimate it's been in the ground..." He raised his voice into the tent. "How long did they say, Frankie?"

Frankie looked up from her work. "Well, purely on their initial estimates, they thought about thirty years. I actually think it's more like forty but I'll need to get it back to the lab to be sure."

"Why didn't they take it out of the ground?" Grace asked.

"It's taken a while but we've finally got the CID well trained." Frankie replied. "If they think something's even remotely related to a cold case, they leave the evidence where it is and turn it over to us."

Grace smiled and raised her eyebrows at Boyd. "Out of fear of retribution or words to that effect?"

Boyd grinned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Frankie rolled her eyes at his feigned innocence before continuing. "Anyway, there's some other stuff in here with the bones, Grace..."

"That's why I wanted you to take a look." Boyd said, holding the tent flap back to allow her access as Grace moved in to observe the remains.

She felt her chest tighten as she took in what she was seeing. The tiny skeleton was lying amidst various children's toys - tattered dolls, their clothes long ago degraded, lay next to the remains of a teddy bear and next to that were several books, decomposition having eaten away at the thin leaf pages, giving them a fragile appearance. Grace frowned as she collected her thoughts.

"Well," she said, eventually, "I'd say this child was buried with some care..."

Boyd shook his head as she had known he would. "You don't kill a child and bury them in your garden if you care about them, Grace, surely."

"First of all, we don't know if the person who killed this child is necessarily the same person who buried them or if they even lived here..."

"That wasn't really my point, was it."

"...and second of all, I thought you wanted me to tell you what I think."

Boyd sighed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, all right."

She gestured to the shallow grave. "You see how the objects have been placed in with the body? They weren't just thrown in, someone took some thought about how to arrange them...probably thought about what to put in as well. I doubt very much that these were random objects, they probably meant something."

"Okay...so, what are we looking at? A parent?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

He turned his attention to Frankie. "Anything you can get DNA from in there, Frankie?"

Frankie looked up as she gingerly placed one of the books into an evidence bag. "Hopefully I'll be able to get something from the teeth, maybe from the bones themselves. It just depends on how much decay there is."

"What about the objects?"

She shook her head and then blew a strand of chocolate hair from her eyes as it impeded her line of vision. "I wouldn't hold my breath, Boyd. This stuff's been in the ground for forty years, it's pretty badly decomposed."

"All right. Just get it back to the lab as quickly as you can."

"Yep. Will do."

Boyd turned back to Grace. "Let's go and see how Mel and Spence are getting on, shall we?"

Grace nodded, giving Frankie a quick smile before following him back up the garden and towards the house.

"How long have you lived here?"

Detective Sergeant Mel Silver stood in Laura Turner's kitchen, notebook in her hand as she surveyed the diminutive brunette standing in front of her, her features etched with a worried frown.

Laura sighed. "Just over a week. Hence, the state of the place." She gestured at her surroundings.

Mel smiled sympathetically before continuing. "Do you have any idea who the previous owners were?"

"Not off the top of my head, I'm afraid. I mean, I've got all the documentation from the estate agent and the solicitor but God knows where it is in this dump."

"Would you be able to find the paperwork and get it to us as soon as you can?" Detective Inspector Spencer Jordan asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Laura paused, looking from one officer to the other before speaking again. "Look, what do you think happened? I mean, am I living in a house where a child was murdered?"

Spence frowned. "Mrs. Turner, we're obviously at a very early point in our investigation so..."

Laura felt the emotion rise in her chest and knew it was obvious in her voice even as she tried to remain calm. "Inspector Jordan, my children found a child's remains in my back garden yesterday! Have you got any idea what that means for them?! For me?!"

She clamped a hand over her mouth and turned away as she felt tears threaten to overwhelm her, her shoulders shaking. Spence took a breath to answer but was eclipsed by Grace as she and Boyd entered through the back door.

"Mrs. Turner," she said, placing her hand lightly on the other woman's shoulder, "I know yesterday must have been an awful shock for you and your family but...we really will do everything we can to find out what happened here, all right?"

Laura took a deep breath. "I know. I'm sorry, it's just...we've all had a rough time of it over the past few months, what with the divorce, moving to a different area..." She trailed off, shrugging.

Grace smiled slightly. "I can understand that. How are the children coping?"

"Not bad, considering. I don't think they've quite grasped the magnitude of all this yet."

Boyd cleared his throat. "It was your son who first found the bones, is that right?"

Laura nodded. "I thought it was animal bones when he said the dog had found something. The bloody thing's always digging bones up."

"But you identified it as human remains?"

"Well, it was pretty obvious once my son had dragged me outside to have a look."

"All right." He paused. "Well, I think that's about it for now, Mrs. Turner. We'll just leave Dr. Wharton to finish up in the garden and then we'll be out of your hair."

Laura looked relieved, a ghost of a smile passing across her pale face. "All right."

Spence spoke up. "If you could get that documentation to us within the next few days..."

She nodded. "I will."

Spence gave the petite woman a polite smile before opening the back door to walk through to the garden, Mel at his heels.

"Thanks for your help, Mrs Turner." Grace said as she turned to follow the others, Boyd's palm flat against her lower back.

"We may need to contact you again…" He said.

Laura gave a resigned smile. "I understand, Superintendent."

Boyd gave a final nod before following Grace out of the door.

Friday, 1.15pm

Boyd strode into the Forensics Lab at the Cold Case Headquarters, pulling on a white overcoat as he did so. He turned his head briefly to check that his colleagues were following him before calling out to alert Frankie to his presence.

"What have you got then, Frankie?"

Frankie glanced up from the metallic gurney on which the recovered bones lay, arranged in their correct anatomical locations. She paused before replying as she waited for her team-mates to assume their customary positions around the evidence.

"Well," she opened, "the remains are those of a female child, approximately five years of age…"

"Cause of death?" Boyd interrupted.

"Best guess would be a massive blow to the head." Frankie replied, picking up the skull in a gloved hand to illustrate her point. "Several massive blows to the head actually. See how her parietal bone is almost completely smashed at the back there?"

"Any guesses about the implement?"

She shrugged, her dark eyes twinkling. "Your guess is as good as mine, Boyd."

"Come on, Frankie…"

Frankie gave a small laugh at his impatience, exchanging knowing smiles with Grace before sobering again. "All right. I'd say…something heavy and blunt."

Spence snorted. "Well, that narrows it down then."

She sighed. "Look, that's all I can say from the evidence that's here. She was killed by something heavy and blunt but it could be anything from a spade to a…rolling pin, for all I know."

Boyd frowned. "Rolling pins aren't that heavy."

Frankie held up her hands, exasperated. "Okay, okay, it was just an example..."

He grinned. "So, what are we looking for? An angry chef?"

Grace looked shocked. "Boyd!" She chastised. "This is a murdered child we're talking about here…"

Her reprimand brought a serious expression back to his face. "Yeah, all right."

Grace shook her head in his direction to show once more her disapproval at his lack of taste before addressing Frankie. "How long do you think the body was there for, Frankie?"

"Well, from the amount of decay…" She broke off and shrugged. "I'd stick with my first estimate. Approximately forty years, give or take a few months."

Boyd spoke again. "Did you manage to get any DNA?"

"Yep, I got lucky with the bones."

"Enough for a profile?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but don't even bother asking if I got a match to anything."

"No national DNA database forty years ago." Mel said, speaking for the first time since entering the Lab.

"Exactly." Frankie replied. "Not to mention the fact she was a child so would have been unlikely to have her DNA registered even if such a thing had existed back then."

"Okay." Said Boyd decisively, turning to address the junior officers. "Mel, Spence, I want you to go through the missing persons' records from about 1960 onwards, see if you can get a potential I.D."

"Right." Mel said, while Spence nodded his compliance.

"There is one other thing." Frankie said, picking up the fragile remains of a doll, which lay next to the bones on the gurney. "The fabric from this doll's clothes were pretty badly decomposed but I managed to run some tests on what I could. The material is saturated with lacrimal fluid…"

"Tears?" Grace asked.

She nodded. "And I managed to extract some DNA. It's a match to the victim's."

"So, the doll belonged to the little girl?"

"Presumably, yeah."

Boyd spoke again. "All right, Grace. See what you can come up with on that score – I want to know what kind of sick bastard kills a child and then buries her with her own toys."

Grace nodded silently, her intelligent mind already racing. Boyd turned to Frankie. "Anything else, Frankie?"

"Not for the moment. I might try examining the site of the wound under different wavelengths, see if I can detect any minute particles from the weapon."

He nodded his approval as he began to walk away from her. "Good. Excellent."

"I can't make any promises though, Boyd." She called after him.

"Just let us know, eh, Frankie?" he shouted back over his shoulder. "Quick as you can."

Frankie rolled her eyes at Grace as Boyd disappeared behind the sliding doors to the clean room. "Why can't he ever finish a conversation while still in the room?"

Grace shrugged. "Pass. Might be to do with his fidgety mind…"

"Ants in his pants?"

The older woman laughed and there were chuckles from Mel and Spence. "Oh, Frankie. You took the words right out of my mouth."

Frankie grinned. "I aim to please."

Grace smiled warmly. "See you later."

Frankie nodded as she returned her attention back to her work, only peripherally aware of the others' as they proceeded towards the exit.