Sycamore Gap: A DCI Ryan Mystery(18)

He turned back to the room and stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“They’re running further tests on the body, to see what else flags up, but in the meantime it’s looking like there was some kind of violent struggle, resulting in massive head trauma.”

There were a few sympathetic murmurs around the room.

“Tom? What can you add to the forensic side of things?”

Faulkner fiddled with his notes before answering. He never enjoyed public speaking, even when the crowd was small and comprised solely of colleagues and friends.

“As predicted, we’ve found very little in the way of trace evidence. Due to the age of the body, as you can imagine, any prints or drag marks are long gone. We deconstructed the grassed area in a radius around the wall cavity to see if any items might be found underneath the first couple of layers of grass and soil. We’re analysing the soil to see if there’s a DNA match so that we can locate the site where she was killed.”

“What about inside the wall cavity?”

“There were no identifying markers on the body, other than a silver bracelet and the remains of the clothing she was wearing at the time she died. The clothes have deteriorated to the extent that we can only presume they were made from an organic fabric, cotton probably. We’re running the tests for prints and DNA – the lab boys are looking into it now, but it’ll be another twenty-four hours before we’ll have something more definitive.”

Ryan nodded his thanks.

“That’s good, fast work. Let’s look into the origins of that bracelet – Phillips, check the file or call her family to see if they reported any articles of jewellery missing. Maybe check with her old university housemate, too. It would be good to know if any of them recognise it, or could tell us who gave it to Amy. Failing that, let’s look at the jewellery shops. In the meantime, I’ve got another spanner to throw into the works.”

That re-captured the attention of the room.

“Amy Llewellyn is already known to the department,” he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “She went missing on 21st June, 2005 and it was reported the following day. Phillips will be going over her case file, but the basics are these: Amy was a medical student in her third year at Newcastle University, from a solid family background. She left the house she shared with another girl, without telling anyone where she was going, or who she was going to meet. Her mobile phone was never recovered. There were no financial leads, no family connection to give us cause for concern. She was twenty-one.”

“There was no physical evidence and no witnesses, so the investigation went cold,” Phillips added. “Amy just, sort of, ‘poofed’ into thin air.”

“‘Poofed’? Is that a technical term?” MacKenzie drawled.

“It is now,” he replied haughtily. “Anyhow, the original team initially put her disappearance down to suicide, on account of the fact she hadn’t been herself before she died.”

“We now have something that the original investigative team didn’t have, and that’s a body. They don’t call them ‘silent witnesses’ for nothing,” Ryan put in. “But that’s only the half of it. Amy was also known to us because her photograph was found amongst a collection recovered from Keir Edwards’ home, after his arrest last year.”

Instantly, an awkward silence descended on the room, which Ryan almost found funny. He could see the doubt in their minds and read the questions on their faces. Was he able to look at this dispassionately? Could he separate his own feelings on The Hacker, from the facts of this case?

He hoped so.

“You’re looking at Edwards? He confessed to five murders,” MacKenzie said, breaking the uneasy silence. “He was quite chatty about his exploits in general. Wouldn’t he have owned up to it, if he had killed her?”

“Aye, it’s worth remembering that he’s always been full of himself,” Phillips agreed. “Nothing he loves more than bragging about what a loony he is.”

MacKenzie’s lips broke into a smile, against her better judgement.

“It doesn’t seem like his style, to hide her away all these years, rather than displaying her for everyone to see his handiwork.”

Ryan had thought of that.

“I agree that it isn’t his usual style, but we’ve known others who changed their MO to avoid capture,” he leaned back against the desk at the front of the room and reached for his cup of lukewarm coffee. “It’s also relevant that Amy died back in 2005. Ten years can make a big difference to a budding serial killer. Who’s to say that she wasn’t one of his earlier efforts? Back then he was a young doctor, working in the hospital where she was a student. Their paths would have crossed; obviously did cross, for him to have such an intimate photograph.”