Broadchurch: Blast From The Past

Chapter 1

TW: discussion of suicide (hypothetical), foul language, description of dead body, mild gore

Detective Inspector Alec Hardy learned many things in his career. One of them was that no good phone calls came after midnight. When his mobile rang at two am in mid-December, he knew that he wouldn't get any more sleep.

He snaked his arm out from under the down comforter, snagged his phone, and mumbled, "Wot?"

"Detective, sorry to bother you this late--"

"You don't sound sorry."

"--but we need you."

Of course they did. He wondered if he could fob this off on someone else.

The next sentence shot down that idea: "We've found a body."

Bollocks. No avoiding this one. Alec hung up and dragged himself out of bed. He started to put his normal work clothes on, thought better of it—December in Dorset was brutally cold and windy—and opted for jeans and a sweatshirt instead. If someone thought he was being unprofessional, they could take it up with the Chief Superintendent.

He padded to Daisy's room. This was her last Christmas before college, and she had chosen to spend it with her dad. Times like this, he hated his job, hated that it took him away from his daughter on what might be their last Christmas together.

"Daisy," Alec called softly. No answer. "Daisy, sweetheart."

He went over and wiggled her foot. He knew better than to get within striking distance; Daisy tended to wake up swinging.

"Wot?" she grumbled. She wasn't Scottish, like Alec was, but she had picked up some of his inflections, especially when she was angry.

"I have to go, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'll try to be back by breakfast."

"What now?"

"Somebody found a body."

Daisy popped her head into the open air, intrigued. "What kind of body?"

"A dead one," Alec replied seriously. He couldn't let such an opportunity pass.

"Probably froze to death."

"An excellent hypothesis, Doctor Watson." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Just wanted to let you know I was leaving. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad," she mumbled, and went back inside her blanket cocoon

~~~~

Of course, of course, the crime scene was up on the bluffs. Exposed to the harsh sea wind, few trees grew along the cliffs. But some moron had found one, and hung himself from it.

"I come up here every night on patrol," said Frank, the officer who made the discovery. He was once a member of Alec's team before deciding that he'd rather deal with traffic stops than murders and rapes. Now the poor sod was right back in the thick of it. "Park for a few minutes, do paperwork, and head back down. Except tonight I saw this poor bastard."

Ale watched the body sway gently in the wind and pulled his hat down around his ears. "You dragged me out here in the middle of the night for a suicide? This is something you call a new guy for, not the DI."

"Normally I would, except, it's not a suicide." Frank shined his torch on the body.

The center of the hangman's torso was a mass of pulped flesh and rib fragments. It looked like one wrong move would bring the organs flopping out.