Page 115 of Dying Truth

Kim continued walking. She had no words that would make him feel better.

The train was perfectly parked against the platform. Kim realised that the driver would have been slowing to ease into the station. Monty Johnson had gone and stood at the furthest point from the station building so that the train would hit him on its way in.

The train hadn’t been moved since and wouldn’t be until the pathologist said so.

She headed to the end of the platform.

‘What we got, Keats?’

Two crime scene techs were down on the line with him, and Kim couldn’t help feeling relieved that she couldn’t see the state of the body.

Keats heaved himself up onto the platform. ‘What’s this guy to you?’ he asked, removing the latex gloves. ‘Definitely a suicide, according to eleven eye witnesses and I’m guessing that camera up there, so what’s your interest?’

‘He’s the driver of the car that hit Joanna Wade.’

‘Aah, I see. Well, there’s no wallet or phone on him,’ Keats said. ‘Just driving licence in his front pocket, which we used for identification.’

‘Injuries?’ Kim asked.

‘Too many to count just yet,’ he answered with a sigh.

‘Okay, thanks Keats,’ she said, heading back towards the station.

‘Going so soon?’ Bryant asked.

‘Nothing to gain,’ she answered. ‘We know he killed Joanna, and we know he killed himself. Getting a road map of his injuries isn’t going to tell us why he did either.’

Bryant began to speak but she’d already changed direction.

She stood in front of the train driver. Maybe there was something she could say to help after all.

‘Listen, you’re never going to get that picture out your head,’ she said, honestly. ‘And it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done and right now that’s gonna mean absolutely nothing; but one thing you should know is that guy under the wheels of your train was no saint. He deliberately mowed down and killed a young woman last night, which is something else you should try to remember,’ she said.

He raised his head and looked at her. Nothing would mean anything to him right now. No truth would penetrate the shock shield around him. Right now he wasn’t looking to excuse himself. At this very minute he was happy to absorb all the blame, but once the shock wore off and he was looking to get clear of the misplaced responsibility, he might just remember her words.

‘One second he was messing on his phone and the next…’ He shook his head ‘It was the sound of his body hitting—’

‘His phone?’ Kim interrupted.

The man nodded and lowered his head.

As they’d entered the station she’d heard a witness mention a mobile phone too.

‘Could have just been looking down, guv,’ Bryant said, quietly. ‘These days we all assume—’

Kim stepped away from the driver. ‘But he’s the second person to mention Monty Johnson paying attention to a phone. But why right at that moment, Bryant?’ Kim asked, heading back through the waiting room towards the platform. ‘He’s about to end his life and he’s messing around on a phone. Who gives a shit if you’ve not replied to a message? You’re gonna be dead in a minute.’

‘But Keats said there was no phone.’

‘And I’m saying there is,’ she said, stubbornly.

She walked the platform until she was roughly where Monty Johnson had been standing.

If he was messing with his phone in his final few minutes, then he wanted to communicate something to someone.

They had been sitting in the man’s living room with his partner at the time of death and nothing had been communicated to him. If he wanted to let someone know something he wouldn’t jump with his phone. He would leave it behind.

‘On the ground, Bryant,’ she said, dropping to her knees.