‘I don’t envy them,’ said Henley.
An officer from the marine unit made his way towards them.
‘Believe it or not I’ve got a couple of daredevils in my teamwho are looking for a story to tell when they’re down at the pub tonight.’
‘And it looks like they’ll be adding me to their story too.’
‘You’re going up there?’ Ramouter asked with surprise.
‘We’rebothgoing up there,’ said Henley. ‘Don’t you want to see the body in-situ for yourself?’
Drew, a firefighter, double checked Henley’s life jacket and safety harness. ‘I’m right in front of you,’ he said. ‘Despite how the pier looks, it’s not about to collapse under your feet. It’s been standing there since the seventeenth century.’
‘Unfortunately, I don’t share your confidence,’ Henley answered, watching Ramouter, secured to his own firefighter escort, make his way up the stairs and step carefully onto the unstable-looking gantry.
‘Ready?’
Henley nodded and Drew turned his back and confidently walked up the concrete steps and waited for her and Ramouter at the top. ‘You’re going to hear a lot of creaking and other strange noises as you walk along the gantry. Try to ignore it. Keep as far to the left as possible and whatever you do, don’t let go of me.’
Henley tried to ignore the shakiness in her legs as she grabbed hold of the yellow safety belt that had been attached to Drew’s own life jacket. Despite his advice, Henley couldn’t ignore the sound of the aged wood creaking under their weight. The sound of the river grew louder as she walked, occasionally looking down through the gaps in the planks at the dark waters swirling. Seagulls, pigeons and crows circled overhead, occasionally landing and perching on the green and blue rusting support beams. Henley kept her mind focused on what she could see and who would have been motivated to carry a dead body along a perilous path beyond the river’s edge.
‘You made it then?’ Ramouter said with a grin on his face and his hands clasped firmly behind his back.
Henley stopped a foot away from the body. ‘This is absolutely terrifying.’
‘It’s not that bad, as the firefighters said, it’s more stable than it looks.’
‘The plan is to give you guys as long as you need to do whatever it is you do,’ said Drew, keeping his distance from the body. ‘We’ll then escort you back, forensics will come and do what they need to do and then we’ll bring the body down. And it’s ok to let go of me now,’ he said with a grin.
Henley reluctantly released the safety belt. She carefully stepped closer to Ramouter and around the body. She looked up. ‘It’s her,’ she confirmed.
Sian Fox-Carnell’s dark blonde hair blew lazily in the wind that swept along the river, fresh bird droppings were visible on her skin. The left side of her face was covered with bruises and there was visible swelling along her jaw and cut lips. She’d been stripped almost naked, with only a pair of sky-blue knickers keeping her modesty. Henley grimaced at the succession of red, harsh scratches and dried blood on her dead alabaster skin and the noose around her neck. There was more bruising on her torso, back, her right thigh and a large gash on her shin. The thick black cable ties, that held her hands together in front of her, were almost lost in the folds of her swollen wrists. The red light on the electronic monitoring tag on her ankle flashed furiously, signalling that the battery was low.
Ramouter took a step around Sian. ‘I’m thinking that she was already dead when she got here?’
‘What makes you say that?’ Henley asked.
‘I can see chafing but I can’t see any fresh bruising on her neck. I don’t know how long she’s been hanging here, but the rope looks quite slack.’ Ramouter walked slowly around the body, the wood creaking. ‘And, let’s be honest, it would be easier to carry a dead person up here instead of someone fighting for her life.’
‘What are we thinking, that she’s taken off the street …’
‘Held somewhere for what, forty-eight hours or so, killed wherever she’s being held, brought here and hanged.’
‘By someone who has knowledge of the area,’ said Henley as she remained rooted to the spot.
‘Why here though? Why take the crazy risk of coming up here when they could have just dumped her anywhere.’
Henley did her best to ground herself feeling the wind swirl around them. The bridge shuddered and she tried not to grab hold of the railings. The last thing she wanted to do was to accidentally remove any trace of forensic evidence. ‘She must have a head wound but I can’t see the top of her head. There’s a lot of blood on the back of her neck but I can’t see any other visible wounds other than her leg, which isn’t fatal,’ said Henley once the wind settled down.
Henley looked down at her feet. She couldn’t see any blood on the wooden planks – another indication that there were two crime scenes.
‘Let’s go,’ Henley said quickly, turning to Drew who’d been patiently observing the pair. ‘I really don’t like bridges, and I want CSI to get on with their job.’
‘I’m thinking that it won’t be too hard to find people who would want her dead.’ Ramouter followed Henley back along the bridge, supported by his own firefighter escort.
‘Wanting someone dead and doing it are two different things,’ Henley replied. She placed her feet on solid ground and felt the rhythm of her breath start to return to normal.
‘I agree. This is all performative,’ answered Ramouter. ‘Putting her up there on a platform for the world to see.’
