5. A LOCKED DOOR

In the company of uniformed police officers from the local station Rosie visits the van in the woods.

Constable Danny Allsop was on the phone to his station, requesting a team of forensic officers to examine the caravan and its grisly contents. The he frowned and passed his phone to sergeant Green.

“Boss wants to talk to you,” he said, briefly.

Tony Green took the phone and listened. Then he shook his head and handed it back to Danny.

“It would seem,” he said, “that this isn’t the only situation that we’ve got and the boss wants to come and look for himself before anything gets done. He reckons that if the van and it’s occupant’s been here for years it can wait another few hours, but he’ll be here today.”

“That makes sense,” agreed Rosie.

“Trouble is, our pathologist is up to his armpits with bodies,” Tony told her, “there’s been a nasty RTA on the coast road and a double murder on the outskirts of town. And the boss reckons something fresh like that must take precedence over a skeleton in a disused caravan. Added to all that the time of the year and the officers on their annual holiday and we’ve got quite a shortage.”

“It’s likely to be the same in Brumpton if anything extra crops up,” nodded Rosie, who had quite an idea where the conversation might be leading. “Last time I was here I had to scarper back home on the second day to look at a blood-stained corpse! But would it help if we co-opted our own pathologist at Brumpton to come and take a look if Superintendent Flibbert agrees?”

“I heard about that case of yours,” said Tony quietly, “and maybe it might be a good idea to borrow your man if this turns out to be a simple case and we just need to establish a possible cause of death.”

“I’ll get in touch with them then,” said Rosie, “Anyway, what are we going to do now?”

“What would you do?” asked the sergeant.

“Well, I want to get the kids back to my van and away from anything that might scare them,” said Rosie. “They’re a bit young to be exposed to what might be lurking in that caravan. But I’ll stay here with them if you want to see if that door’s open. And if it is you might want to make quite sure that the bloke in there’s as dead as he seems to be. It would be just too bad if it turned out that he’s on his last legs and could be saved.”

“Not likely,” said the sergeant dubiously.

“I know that, and I’m sure whoever it is has been dead for decades at the least,” agreed Rosie, “but that’s guessing and I’ve never liked conducting an enquiry using too much guess-work even if the answer seems irrefutable.”

Tony Green looked at her with considerable respect on his face. “That’s my way too,” he said quietly. “If you hang back here at a safe distance with your two little sparklers I’ll see if the door’s open. But if it isn’t I won’t force it. There’ll be a forensic team here sooner or later and if it’s a crime scene we don’t want to introduce anything that might lead an investigation astray. And I’ll make my mind up about the state of health of your daughter’s skeleton anyway by looking as carefully as I can, even if it has to be from outside..”

“He’s dead, mister,” said Jack, convinced.

“I’m sure you’re right, sonny,” said the sergeant, “but like your mum said, we’ve got to do the job properly.”

“And it might be an idea to check the area where the number plate was,” put in Rosie, “because if someone’s been here and taken it so soon after the twins found it then there’s someone too close for comfort showing excessive interest in it, someone who reckons they need to hide the identity of the van’s owner.”

“I’ll do that too,” promised the sergeant.

He waved his constable forwards and together they approached the caravan and carefully took hold of the door handle. The door was locked as they’d guessed it would be, and Tony was careful not to disturb any finger prints that might be on its corroded surface.

“Fast shut,” he called back.

Then he went up to the rear window through which the twins had seen the skeleton sitting in a chair. He stared long and hard and it was clear that he was looking at the remains of a person who had died years earlier. There could be no question that he’s been still as a shadow in that position, possibly for years.

“He’s as dead as a dodo, and there’s no doubt about that,” he called back.

“Are you sure it’s a he?” asked Rosie, “because Tom thought it might be a woman when he looked at the picture on Jill’s mobile.”

“It could be, I suppose, but I reckon it’s favourite that it’s a bloke,” replied Tony.

“We’d get a perfect idea if we could see if whoever it is in there is wearing a frock,” suggested the constable who was also peering through the window. “And there’s a computer there,” he added.

“An old one,” confirmed Tony, “I had one of those when I was a kid! It fair takes me back, it does, seeing an old Amstrad sitting on that bit of a table like that! I had some fun on mine, with games the kids would pour scorn on these days!”

“Thing is, there might be a clue about who the bloke is or why he’s there on it,” suggested constable Allsop.

“You don’t know much about old computers, do you?” asked his sergeant, “because if you did you’d know they don’t save everything you write on them like modern PCs. You have to go out of your way to save stuff on a disc or cassette depending on what model you’re using. This one uses discs, and a non-standard size of disc at that.”

“He might have saved something on it before he died, though,” suggested the constable.

“I suppose there’s an outside chance,” agreed Tony Green.

“What about where the number-plate was?” called Rosie, holding both twins by their hands, determined to keep them away from what might prove to be an unpleasant sight if the door got opened.

Sergeant Green bent down and looked at the lighter patch of caravan. It was certainly the right shape and size for a number plate and he knew caravans had to show the number of the car that was towing them.

“It was a plate all right,” he confirmed, “there’s nothing else it could be! And by the look of it there was some sticky tape holding it on. Double-sided tape because it broke up when whoever it was removed the plate and some of it is still stuck here. And there are a couple of scratches here, too, where a screwdriver or something similar was used to lever it off.”

“They’re often stuck on with tape,” Rosie told him.

“The thing is, the scratches look to be brand spanking new!” said Sergeant Green. “You say your twins found this place this morning and went back to tell you, and between them finding it and us investigating someone’s been here and taken away what may be evidence in a criminal enquiry? That’s not a coincidence, is it?

“Whoever came with his or her screwdriver knew that vehicle registration numbers can be traced back to their owners and didn’t want to be identified as knowing who owned this caravan.

“It might even have been the owner. Who can tell?”

“Nobody easily now that the number’s gone,” agreed Rosie, sighing.

“Anyway, the Inspector’s on his way and he’ll decide what we do next,” said Sergeant Green. “And until he gets here we might as well go back to the caravan site and see if anyone there is looking furtive!”

“I know them all,” confessed Rosie, “not very well, but this is a site I’ve used since before the twins were born, and you can’t help getting to know other caravanners, especially on a site where you’re encouraged to go about naked!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

© Peter Rogerson 24.03.17