to a perishing minus five degrees. By 6 a.m. everything was covered in an icy white glaze. Pavements were slippery underfoot; frost crunched under the weight of tyres; and the dead, frozen body of a man was discovered behind an industrial bin in Sheffield City Centre.
A man on his way to work, taking a short cut to the tram stop on West Street, stumbled across the body next to an 80s themed nightclub on Holly Lane. He dialled 999 then waited impatiently for uniformed officers to arrive. By the time they did, not only was the witness hopping from foot to foot to keep warm but he was thoroughly pissed off at being late for work on employee evaluation day.
A tall constable tentatively made his way to the steel bin. A pair of legs was sticking out from behind but nothing more. The closer he went more of the body was revealed. When he reached the face he quickly clamped a leather gloved hand over his mouth. It looked as if the victim’s head had exploded.
The call came through to the MIT and was answered by DS Sian Mills. When she relayed the news to Acting DCI Hales he almost punched the air with excitement.
‘Grab your coat and a DC and let’s go,’ he said to Sian. He was out of the door before he’d finished talking.
At fifty, Ben Hales had never quite reached his full potential and didn’t know why. He was a well-built man with plenty of padding around the middle and dark salt-and-pepper hair cut short. His personality was prickly, which, if you didn’t know him, could be mistaken for severe. Nobody in work knew him. A fact that he didn’t care about.
‘Blimey, what’s got into him?’ Faith Easter said. She’d nearly been sent flying by a departing Ben Hales as she entered the room.
‘Don’t bother taking your coat off. Uniform have found a body. Come on.’
It wasn’t far from South Yorkshire Police HQ to the murder site and there was no great rush, but Hales had his foot firmly pressed on the accelerator all the way there. Sian was in the passenger seat sending a text to DS Aaron Connolly letting him know where they all were, while Faith was in the back seat holding on tight to the door strap.
Hales pulled the Audi up at a dodgy angle and jumped out of the car. The two uniformed officers had been joined by a further five who were busy securing the area with blue and white police tape. A small crowd of perverse onlookers had already gathered.
This was exactly what Hales had been hoping for; an active murder investigation he could get his teeth into and show his bosses who had the ability to lead the Murder Investigation Team. He clapped his hands together as he approached the uniformed officers.
‘Right then, who was first on the scene?’
‘We were, sir. I’m PC Ashcroft and this is PC Rutherford.’
‘What have we got?’
‘A dead man behind the industrial bin. He’s been very badly beaten.’
‘Who found him?’
‘A passer-by on his way to work.’ He looked at his notebook. ‘Jason Patterson. I’ve got his address and contact details.’
‘Doctor?’
‘On his way, sir.’
‘Forensics?’
‘On their way, sir.’
‘Excellent. I want you to keep a record of everyone who comes onto the scene and don’t let anyone in who shouldn’t be. That’s anyone from the press and anyone who isn’t anything to do with analysing a dead body. Do you understand?’
‘Yes sir,’ he replied through chattering teeth.
‘Good lad. Also, tape off this entire area, not just the alleyway, and get the crowd moved further back.’
‘Yes sir,’ he repeated.
Hales turned to Sian and Faith, a smile on his face. ‘Let’s take a look at him then.’ The women exchanged a puzzled glance.
Holly Lane was a small alleyway behind the City Hall. It was mostly used as a cut-through for people to get to the tram stop or the amenities on West Street. There was a spacious car park to the left and a nightclub to the right.
The body was undisturbed. Hales had no intention of disturbing him either, not until the doctor and forensics had been. If he wanted to impress the ACC he needed to do everything by the book. Now was not the time for cutting corners or making mistakes.
Hales bent down to get a good look at the victim. He screwed his face up at the state of him; his features were broken, eyes swollen shut, nose smashed, jaw shattered. His hair was matted with frozen blood. Whoever had killed him had been relentless in their attack. This was a vicious crime and Hales could not be more pleased.
‘Faith, find out who runs the nightclub. I want CCTV footage and I want to know what time they were open until last night and whether they had any trouble. Also, there’s a car park across the road, I want CCTV from that too and check with the City Hall. I want to know what show was on and the time it finished and, again, CCTV from the front and back of the building. Get uniform to help you.’
‘Yes sir.’ She turned quickly almost hitting Sian in the face with her ponytail.
‘This shouldn’t be too difficult,’ Hales said to Sian. He smiled. ‘We’re slap bang in the middle of the city centre surrounded by nightclubs and a big concert venue. CCTV should solve this before lunch if we’re lucky. A badly beaten-up male outside a nightclub; no prizes for guessing where he’d come from.’
Sian had her arms wrapped around her and held herself rigid with the cold. She frowned at her boss.
‘We’ll wait until forensics have been, run his prints and if he’s not on the system I want you to have a look through missing persons. Also, give the station a call; ask if anyone has reported anyone missing in the last day or so.’
‘It’s a bit early for that isn’t it?’ Sian asked, teeth chattering.
‘Time is of the essence Sian. By the way, I’d invest in a decent winter coat if I was you.’
Sian turned away. An energetic Acting DCI Hales was unsettling to watch. He was usually monosyllabic and rigid. Where had his sudden animation come from?
A deep red Vauxhall Astra pulled up and out stepped the pathologist, Dr Adele Kean. They made eye contact straight away.
‘Morning Sian, bloody freezing isn’t it?’ she said, quickly taking off her coat and opening the boot to find a blue protective suit.
‘On days like these you just want to wrap yourself in the duvet and forget about work.’
Adele smiled. ‘What have you got for me then?’
‘A dead male, beaten to death by the looks of him. I hope you’ve not had a fry-up for breakfast as you’ll be bringing it straight back up.’
‘I’m a good girl; Greek yogurt and blueberries for me.’
‘Really?’
‘No chance. It’s two coffees and a slice of toast. I’m never in the mood to eat first thing
