A brutal double murder of two homeless people has thrown doubt on the conviction of one of Britain’s most notorious serial killers, according to the support group set up to clear his name.
The discovery, in the early hours of this morning, of two bodies in the medieval cathedral town of Wells in Somerset has led to calls for a fresh look at the evidence that convicted Hamish Wolfe, in 2014, of the abduction and murders of three women. Mike Shiven, 54, chairman of the so-called Wolfe Pack, said, ‘The savage slaying of two of our own members, people very close to the investigation, who had fresh information that could have been invaluable, proves what we’ve been arguing all along. The police took the easy way out with this case. The real killer is still out there and now two of our own have paid the ultimate price.’
At the time of going to press, police were refusing to comment on alleged similarities between the manner in which the two travellers, currently known only as Odi and Broon, were killed and the means used by the killer of Jessie Tout, Chloe Wood and Myrtle Reid in 2013. They refused to deny, however, that the combination of head injury and throat wound could have been the modus operandi used to kill the three young women.
Wolfe’s mother, Sandra, is in no doubt. ‘Odi and Broon were killed for what they know,’ she told our reporter at her ￡750k home in Somerset. ‘If they’d gone to the police when I told them to, they’d probably be alive today. As it is, even the most incompetent member of the police force has to see now that the monster who framed Hamish is still out there.’
First detective on the scene of this morning’s murders, Pete Weston, was also one of the lead detectives in the Hamish Wolfe investigation. He was unavailable for comment today.
Chapter 57
BROON AND ODI lie side by side. The post-mortem examinations are over and the bodies have been covered, for decency’s sake, leaving just their heads and their feet visible.
The only lights are the powerful, surgical ones above the gurneys; the corners and edges of the examination room blur into darkness. Modern equipment aside, the scene reminds Pete of old paintings of surgeons at work, of shadowy figures thronging a central point, the surgeon holding a lantern in one hand, a sharp knife in the other. The pathologist, an Asian woman in her mid forties, likes to work in a darkened room, with light focused only on the corpse.
‘It’s all about the patients,’ she explained once to Pete. ‘I find it concentrates the mind upon them.’ Privately, he suspects a different motive entirely.
Somewhere, in the gloom that is the rest of the lab, technicians are clearing away instruments, washing dishes, recording notes with the aid of pen torches. They move around unnoticed, nothing more than undulations in the shadows. Odi and Broon lie in stark relief, like museum exhibits.
‘Can we get some lights on?’ Latimer has just arrived, has already phoned ahead to request the pathologist doesn’t start the briefing without him. Pete has been waiting for nearly an hour. Dr Mukerji ignores Latimer. She has her back to the viewing gallery, is finishing some notes.
‘Not sure she’s turned the intercom on yet,’ says Pete, although he knows she has. They’ve just had a conversation about how much longer his boss is going to be, and doesn’t he realize she has five other cases to get to today?
Latimer peers down at the gurneys and their occupants. ‘And this happened just outside your bedroom window?’
Down in the examination room, Dr Mukerji turns to face them. ‘Is this DCI Latimer, finally?’ she asks Pete.
‘Tim Latimer. Good morning. I don’t have a lot of time. What have you got for us?’
Mukerji walks back to her notes. After over a minute, when even Pete thinks she’s pushing it, she comes back. She stands in between the two gurneys, directly in the light, her hands behind her back. She looks at Odi, then up at the gallery.
‘We have a white female, aged somewhere between thirty and forty – difficult to be more precise, given the conditions she’s been living in over the past few years – in relatively poor health for her age. She is known locally as Odi.’
Mukerji’s head turns. ‘Her companion is known as Broon. He’s slightly older, somewhere between forty-five and fifty-five, and like Odi, showing signs of his lifestyle impacting adversely on his health.’
Latimer pulls out his phone and starts flicking through text messages. Mukerji remains silent until he looks up again.
‘Neither victim carried ID of any sort,’ she continues, ‘so it may be some time before we have complete identification.’