Chapter 6

They arrived at the Tamworth Industrial Park, turning off Watling Street into Claymore, and then into the roadway where the body had been found. To one side of the road was the back of factories in the next road, the other side was a big automotive spares warehouse. At the end of the short road was the factory whose workers had come out to find the body. They parked in a space and stood in the road looking around them. Maria was the first to speak.

“I don’t know about you, but this looks like it was a deliberate spot, not just a random dump. Whoever left the body knew that the factory ran a late shift and placed it to be found. It had to have been dumped between ten and midnight. The place makes industrial lifts for invalids. The dumper may have worked there, or had a lift made by them. I think it’s worth a visit. If we take photos of their order book and personnel records, there may be something that links up with things we might come across.”

They went to the factory office, showed their warrant cards, and asked to speak to the person in charge. It turned out to be a middle-aged lady, so Maria took the lead.

“We are following up on that girl whose body was found outside this factory, some time ago. We think that it wasn’t a random dumping, and that there may be some link to this business. I’m not saying that the company is directly involved, more that it may be linked to a previous employee, with a grudge, or even to one of your customers who may have been less than happy with the lift you supplied. Can you think back and tell us if there are any employees over the last five years who we should talk to.”

“We have a very stable workforce, detective. Most have been with us more than ten years. It is a niche market, and the guys who build the lifts have particular skills that would only be transferrable to another lift manufacturer. Invalid lifts are superior to normal passenger lifts. They have to be super smooth in operation, and they must stop exactly in line with the floor level to minimise tripping hazards. There’s only one man who left under a cloud, and that was because we found that he was doing two, full-time, jobs. He would come in the morning, half asleep, and his productivity was lousy.”

“Can we have his name and last known address, please? Did you know what other job he was doing? That would have been during the evenings.”

“He was working in a restaurant, I think, he was a waiter and general hand. It stayed open, some nights, until the early hours. Actually, now I think about it, he was a problem, a year or so later, when we were asked to install a lift at a new restaurant project. He was, at that time, part of that management. I thought that having an invalid lift in a restaurant was especially crazy, at the time. It was a big job, as it went from a basement and up two more floors. My installation manager would come in and complain about the man being a real pain, expecting perfection and then trying to get a better price.”

“How would he get a better price?”

“It was the basement part. Joe, my installer, said the basement was just a rough floor in a large room, and the customer told him to set the lift a few inches off the floor as they would be resurfacing the floor to suit the lift. The main eating area was on the ground floor, and they had another area that they were developing upstairs from that. Joe said that he was told that it would be a private function room. It took some patience to deal with them, but they paid up, and we moved on. I think that there are some pictures in our sales records.”

In the back office, she got one of the girls to pull the employee records, finding the man that had been sacked and then getting his employment file. Andy gave them a receipt to put into the file drawer and tucked the file under his arm. In the sales area, there was a big folder with pictures in clear plastic sleeves. The manager found the pictures that she had been talking about. Looking closely, they could see that the rooms that the lift opened out to were all in some state of development. Unfortunately, there were no photos of the rooms, only those of the lift, in various states of installation. The one picture that made Maria gasp, showed the lift doors, closed, and there was a fancy gold ‘H’ on the left one, with a similar gold ‘N’ on the right.

When they were back in the car, with the employee file, the plastic sleeve of pictures and the address of the restaurant, Maria took a deep breath.

“This could be important, Andy. It might have been all above board and I wouldn’t suggest a raid with just a nasty man as reason, but the napkin ring in that Astra could have come from there.”

“I agree. We’ll have to build a better case before we can do something drastic. We can ask Doggy to look into the restaurant. We can go and have a look at the place, ourselves, though. The address is, if I’m reading this map correctly, in an old manor house, just to the south of Walton on Trent. They might have a board, outside, with a menu to read.”

Andy drove them north, taking it easy, until they reached Walton-on-Trent. They found the restaurant, thanks to a few helpful signposts. There was a big board at the entrance to the carpark. They stopped and took a look at it. The restaurant was called, now it was open, Hyp-Nouvelle. The prices that they saw took their breath away, not somewhere that you would go on a detective’s salary. Part of the board was set aside for special occasion dining, with a picture of the upstairs room, now with white covered tables and gold cutlery. Prices were not given. Andy took pictures of the board, with close-ups of the details. As they got back into the car, a Rolls Royce came in, past them, and headed closer to the house. Andy turned the Audi around and they left the carpark, going the short distance that led them onto the A38 back to Birmingham.

As it was now late afternoon, as they went south Maria rang the office to see if they were needed, finding out that they could call it a day, but to meet the divers at the Chelmarsh Reservoir, in the morning. Arrangements had been made to inspect the dam wall. They went home to Maria’s flat, made themselves an evening meal and sat watching television until the strain proved too much and they went to bed.

Tuesday morning saw them parked off the road, at the Chelmarsh dam wall. The divers were there, with black plastic covering all the police signage, along with a truck from the council. The plan was for the divers to go in at one end of the wall, and work along, taking as long as it took. The leader suggested that it may take up to three days to do it properly as they were going to give the council a proper inspection report, as long as they kept quiet about anything odd that may be hauled up.

It wasn’t the most enjoyable couple of days that they had, but they had to be there until both bags had been, hopefully, found and recovered. The first came out late on Tuesday afternoon, being put into a double thickness of plastic bag, secured, and put into the back of the Audi, FSI not needed to be on site. Wednesday was spent just watching the bubbles and helping to pull out bicycles. When the second sack was recovered on Thursday afternoon, they left the divers to the rest of their task, taking both sacks into the FSI office for inspection.

Friday morning, they met a couple of divers, and the gardeners, at the Thurlaston Village Hall. They loaded up what they needed on a trailer behind a quad as the cycle trail was quite narrow. At the first site, they donned waders and started looking for a sack in the shallows. It took an hour but was recovered. The next site, further along, by the Remembrance Gardens, didn’t take as long, now they knew roughly how far out to go before starting the search. Back at the village hall, they thanked the divers, put the waders into plastic bags next to the two sacks, and went back to the station to hand the sacks over to FSI.

That afternoon, they wrote up their reports, told the team about their interviews, and then went off to get something to eat before meeting the divers, once again, at the paddleboat site next to Blackroot Pool, Sutton Park. This was the last dive in the series. Andy was hoping for a clean sweep of sacks, seeing that they now had eight out of the nine. The dive started after six, and it took until eight before a marker came up, a line attached and the last sack pulled to shore, to be put into the back of the Audi. They dropped the sack off with the duty officer at the FSI and went home to bed.

It was the Saturday of their lunch with Jenny and her husband. When he asked, Andy was told that Dave, the husband, was also a serving officer but that he did a lot of work from home, on his computer. Maria didn’t know his exact job, the only thing she did know was that he was an Inspector. They took it easy through the morning, clearing up after breakfast and taking their showers. They both took a lot of care with getting ready, Andy shaving twice to ensure that smooth look. Finally, they went out to the car, looking like a couple of stars.

At the restaurant, Jenny almost fell off her chair when they walked in, then got up to hug Maria.

“Maria, honey, is that really you? That dress is fabulous, looks expensive. And this must be Andy. My, what a couple you look, and I do mean couple. Obviously, a lot has happened since I left. It’s going to take more than one lunch to cover your story. Andy, this is Dave, my husband.”

They all had handshakes and hugs, then sat down for a meal. During the course of the meal, they discussed Maria’s change from a duckling to a swan, with Andy’s ownership of the shop, as yet unnamed, hinted at. The meal was good, and that led the talk to good dining. Maria told them about the prices on the board that they had seen this week. When she said that the restaurant was called Hyp-Nouvelle, Dave put his knife down.

“Say that again.”

“It’s called Hyp-Nouvelle. They have silver napkin rings with ‘H’ and ‘N’ in gold on then, in a fancy lettering. We were out there in relation to the case that Jenny and I had been working on, which has now been given to another team. It’s the team that Andy and I are on.”

“You mean that body every three months one that old Butt passed on to us. How far have you got?”

“We have identified all of the victims, all nine of them, so far. We’re hoping that we’ll solve it before they drop number ten somewhere.”

Dave made up his mind, put his fork down as well, and leaned towards them.

“I shouldn’t be saying this, but I work from home, a lot. I’m with the anti-terrorist squad and my main job is monitoring the internet, specifically the dark web. There is a site which pops up, lately, about every three months. It has ‘H’ and ‘N’ as a logo, and it supposedly offers a dining experience that surpasses all others. In the last couple of weeks, it has been touting what it called a ‘Decadent Dinner’. We’ve been thinking that it could be a front for home-grown terrorists. There’s no contact details, so it has to be aimed at people that know what it is, where it is, but just have to be told when it is. In this case, the when is next Saturday evening, and the price, if it’s to be believed, is fifteen thousand pounds a head. If this is any help, it wasn’t me that told you.”

Andy sat for a while before he spoke.

“You know - that fits. Decadent, the tenth victim. Even what has been taken from the victims could fit. I really don’t want to believe it but, if we only have a week, then we’ve got to start moving to get a search warrant. The boss is going to have kittens. I’m sorry, Jenny and Dave, but I think that Maria and I have pressing business to discuss with our DCI.”

They all stood, hugged, and shook hands again, and Andy went to pay for all the meals, with a good tip, apologising for rushing off and assuring the cashier that the food was magnificent. Maria was on her phone to Susan. When she put the phone in her bag, she held her hand out.

“Keys, please. Sue is at home, and she’s told me the address. All I’ve said is that we think that we have a breakthrough and she’ll see us as soon as we get there. I know the street where she lives, so I’m driving. You’re finished there, my love, so let’s get going.”

She didn’t hang around on the way, using the lights a few times when someone wouldn’t let them through. When they pulled up outside Sue’s home, Andy had a new respect for his partners driving skills. They rang the bell and Sue let them in.

“Come through to the kitchen. Mervyn, my husband, is whipping up a light lunch and gets upset if I’m not there to start eating it when it’s hot. My, I thought you two looked good the other day; that dress isn’t cheap, and nor was your suit, Andy. After you tell me about your new idea, we’re going to have to talk about how you’re paying for those threads on a copper’s wage.”

They sat at the kitchen table, just as Mervyn put a plate in front of Sue, then sat down with his. Andy tried to remember how to give a precis, as Sue had taught him at the college.

“Maria and I had been talking to the other people that you had given us, on Monday morning. Jason had a girlfriend, Belle, and we went to see her where she worked as a waitress. She said that Jason used to take her out for meals in good places, and that he was going to check out a new place before taking her. That’s the last time she saw him. She then made a comment about another girl who had been hovering around Jason, Mary Greensborough, who had worked in a fast-food joint. We spoke to Doggy, asking if he could give us her address. Doggy called back to tell us that she had been found, in Tamworth, two days before Jason had been found. She had been beaten, raped, and strangled.”

“That’s interesting. If she had been with Jason when he had been taken, then it looks like she was extra baggage, like the Swedish girl.”

“That’s what we thought. Monday afternoon we went to Tamworth and parked where she had been found. Something about the site struck us both as looking like it had been chosen, specifically for the late shift workers of the factory to see as they left, after midnight. The factory makes lifts; not just ordinary lifts, but invalid lifts, which the manager told us had to be super smooth and accurate in where they stop in relation to the floor.”

“Ah! A grumpy ex-employee, perhaps?”

“Yes, that was our thinking, as well. When we asked about that, she remembered an employee who had been sacked for poor performance, due to doing another job late into the night. He worked in hospitality, and turned up, later on, at a new restaurant project where they wanted an invalid lift to go three floors, from the basement up. The basement, we were told, was just rough floor and undeveloped at the time.”

“That’s an odd one, a lot of money when a normal lift would do.”

“That’s what we thought. We went out to have a look at the place. It’s on an old manor house just south of Walton-on-Trent. The board, outside, had a menu and some eye-watering prices. It’s called Hyp-Nouvelle, so I guess that it’s one of those places where you get a small helping of food on large plates and pay the earth for the dining privilege. We were given pictures of the lift being installed and one shows the doors closed, with the letters ‘H’ and ‘N’ on them in gold flowery letters, just the same as that napkin ring we found in the Astra.”

“Wow, a definite link between Jason and Sven. Sven was into strange food, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. Now here’s where the story gets interesting. We were having lunch with a friend of Maria, and her husband, today. We mentioned the name of the restaurant. He got a bit excited and told us that his job includes monitoring the dark web. He told us that a site that has the logo of the ‘H’ and ‘N’ in flowery writing, is currently promoting a special event, which they called a Decadent Dinner, and the entry price was fifteen grand a head.”

“Explain that a bit, please?”

“It was the Decadent bit that we picked up on. We’re investigating the nine bodies, all with bits missing. What if this is the tenth?”

Mervyn spoke quietly.

“Sue, sweetheart, is this is what’s under your skin at the moment. I know you don’t speak about your work at home, but I’ve read the papers and it hasn’t said much about the injuries. Can you please tell me what parts were missing?”

“We’ve kept it from the press because it would have created a shitstorm of publicity. The other team that were looking at the cases kept everything quiet. Actually, their silence was from doing practically nothing. Maria was on that team and had been given the files but hadn’t been allowed to do much. The other woman at lunch, today, was the other girl who had left to move south?”

Maria nodded.

“Her husband told us – but didn’t tell us anything. I think he’s with the Anti-Terrorist boys. He thought the site might be a front for a meeting.”

Sue put her hand on her husband’s and decided.

“This is totally between us, darling, but the missing bit on the first four victims was the groin, including the genitals, taken from just below the navel and going pretty deep. The last five were the same, but all had the liver and kidneys removed as well.”

Mervyn looked at the other two as he thought a bit.

“If you didn’t know, I’m a nutritionist working at Bourneville. To get to be a nutritionist I had to first learn how to cook. I studied all different cooking methods, and a lot of different cooking styles. One thing I do know, is that the items that you have described are perfect for the sort of dish that a fine dining enthusiast would love. The belly fat can be cooked like a pork belly; the genitals could be split down the middle and served like a half a lobster; the liver and kidneys are crying out for an inventive chef to create something marvelous. I think you may have found a place that is making a huge profit by catering to cannibals.”

They all sat, in silence, for a few minutes, as the idea permeated their brains, and they matched that statement with everything else they knew. Sue was the first to speak.

“Was there anything else that you were told about this site?”

Maria sighed. “Yes, boss, the dinner is on next Saturday evening. That means that another fit young man has been collected and held.”

Mervyn looked at Sue.

“Held? In what way, and do you know how long?”

“We think that it must be a week or more. There were no traces of bindings, and no traces of any toxic substances in their bloods, what was left of it after they had bled out.”

“So, they were held for some time, no doubt fed good things to make them tasty, and purge the body of bad things, and now you’re telling me that they were castrated while alive! That’s not just fine dining, that’s performance art! I bet that when you arrest the criminals, you’ll find one that’s been on the stage, in some way or another.”

Sue stood and went into the lounge, coming back with her phone to her ear.

“Doggy, this is Sue. Can you take some time before Monday to get me everything you can on a restaurant called Hyp-Nouvelle in Walton. Yes, that’s Hyp with a ‘Y’. It’s an expensive place. We need the company records, any employee lists, backers. They started about four years ago, we think. Yes, you can book it up as overtime, but we need it all on Monday morning. Thanks for that, see you then.”

She speed-dialled another number.

“Terry, I’m calling an all-hands meeting first thing Monday. See who is around to issue a search warrant, someone who can keep a secret and will give us one on conjecture. I’ll talk to the CS after our meeting and see if he’ll back us up. And tell the team to keep next weekend free, there may be a lot to do.”

She put her phone down and then turned to Maria.

“You two heard that. Office on Monday, first thing, and bring your main game, with as much as you have. Now, talk to me about those expensive outfits.”

It took a few minutes for Maria and Andy to explain his particular situation. When he mentioned that he had wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, Sue asked him what his father had done.

“He was a career copper, ended up as an Inspector in the Traffic Division, working out of Harborne. He spent most of his working life chasing cars. He often used to joke that if there was another life, he would be coming back as a dog.”

“I knew a Richard Barton when I was a young detective at that station. He had pulled over some famous people. I believe he used to have a signed picture of Paul McCartney on his desk, sent to him after he had let the guy off with a caution.”

“Yes, that one is in the office of the dress shop, along with other pictures; mostly ones my mother had been given.”

“Like what?”

“The shop is called Jolene’s because she was a huge Dolly Parton fan. She wrote to ask if she could call the shop Jolene’s after the song and got a nice reply. She sent a dress that she thought Dolly would like and got a signed picture of Dolly wearing it. She went to the US to see a show and there’s another picture of the two of them together. She sent over a few more dresses and got a replica gold disc for Jolene, now on the office wall. I think it’s gold coloured plastic, but it looks real.”

He then turned to Mervyn.

“Sir, one thing still worries me about the scenario. We have only ever had one victim a time. Surely there wouldn’t be enough to feed a number of diners. From what you’ve described, I can’t see more than four, at a single sitting.”

“That’s the bit about nouvelle cuisine, Andy. If the victim had been bled out, there would be pints of blood to use in the creations. All you have to do is cook animal products in the same way, make it all look and taste the same, and the punter won’t know the difference. You could feed a dozen or more and they would all swear that they had eaten part of a man. That may even be part of the experience; a bit like a firing squad where only one rifle has the real bullet, and the guns are handed out at random. Every man who fired thinks that he was the one with the fatal shot. By the same token, every man can allow himself to think that it wasn’t him that made the kill.”

Marianne Gregory © 2023