Page 13 of Dying Truth

‘Mr Winters,’ Bryant interjected. ‘Don’t concern yourself. Just take care of your wife,’ he said, looking towards Mrs Winters who was sobbing quietly into his shoulder.

He nodded and stood, guiding his wife towards a Bentley parked on double yellow lines.

‘I hope we can give them some peace soon,’ Bryant said, as they headed towards the morgue.

Kim nodded her agreement as the automatic doors slid open.

‘What you got, Keats?’ she asked.

‘More friends than you,’ he responded without turning.

She shrugged. That was hardly an achievement.

‘Just saw Sadie’s parents outside. Cheers for throwing me under the bus,’ she said.

‘Is that really a viable option?’ he asked, turning to Bryant, who shrugged in response.

Three responses curled around her tongue until she saw that his face was tighter than usual. The lines at the corner of his eyes appeared deeper, the dark circles duskier. He was unlikely to have slept well under the cloud of cutting open a child.

She watched Bryant’s customary shudder whenever they entered the morgue. For some reason the cold, stark sterility of the surroundings unnerved him. Her, not so much. Kind of reminded her of her first studio flat.

‘Obviously they want her back as soon as possible,’ she said.

‘They’re hoping for a swift resolution,’ he said, meeting her gaze.

Kim leaned back against a bed-sized metal dish. She thought about the distraught parents who were desperate to remove their child from this cold, sterile environment. She even considered the subtle urging she could feel coming from her colleague beside her. And then she thought about the railings and the ash mark on her shoe and the absence of gravel embedded in her skin.

‘Shall we get started, then?’ she asked.

‘Already done,’ he answered with a long sigh.

‘You’ve done the post-mortem already?’ she asked. Over the years she had begged, cajoled, attempted to bribe and used threats of violence but never had he performed a post-mortem so quickly.

‘I have bosses too, Stone,’ he said, meeting her gaze.

Bloody hell, this family did have friends in high places.

‘Pressuring you for a suicide call?’ she asked.

‘Not pressuring exactly. Let’s just say it would be preferable.’

‘And?’ she asked.

He reached for his clipboard. ‘I can confirm that this girl did not take very good care of herself. All her major organs were healthy and apparently functioning fine; however neither her stomach, intestines or bowels held anything even remotely resembling a proper meal. Sadie Winters seemed to exist on a diet of energy drinks and breakfast bars, and as such was considerably underweight.’

Kim couldn’t help wondering if the girl had harboured weight issues or if her intake of food and drink had been some form of control.

‘Any evidence of an eating disorder?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Nothing obvious but may have been too early to tell.’

Kim realised that the troubled expression she’d seen on the pathologist’s face when she’d entered had not yet left it.

‘Keats, despite the fact we’re both under pressure to return this girl speedily to her parents, I’m guessing we’re not going to be calling a suicide.’

The pathologist peered at her over his glasses. ‘Very perceptive, Inspector. You are correct, and I’m now going to tell you the reasons why.’

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