Page 46 of First Blood

He moved into her space and looked around, while Kim considered if it was definitely the right spot, as described by Sergeant Greene. The tiny space that went under the staircase was no bigger than a broom cupboard. Possibly six feet square. The bloodstains were evident.

Regardless of whether it was their case or not, the first question she had to ask was why had Lester Jackson been murdered here?

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Dawson worked hard to hide just how much he hated visiting the morgue. It wasn’t like he thought anything was going to come back to life or that he was in any danger. It wasn’t even that he had any issue with the post-mortem itself. He didn’t mind the tools or the sounds of the process, it was the sight of all the dead flesh just hanging, slack from the bones.

He shook away the thought as he approached a woman wearing an Asda uniform and a pensive expression.

‘Lisa Bywater?’ he asked, offering his hand.

She nodded and returned the briefest of touch.

He introduced himself and showed his ID.

A flash of impatience flitted across her face. ‘Can we please just get this over and done with?’

He nodded and led the way through the doors. He’d met few family members that relished this particular task.

‘I’d just like to say how sorry I am for your…’

‘Don’t be,’ she said, without emotion.

Well, that was an hour of sensitivity training wasted.

Thankfully for this task he didn’t have to enter the belly of the morgue. A private viewing room with a second door was available for this process.

Keats appeared from nowhere and gave Dawson the nod to enter.

He guided her into the room that was neutral and without decoration.

He closed the door and pointed to a door in the opposite wall.

‘The pathologist will bring your brother through and will await your instruction before revealing his face. If you could just confirm that it is your brother, Luke—’

‘I know his name,’ she said as the door opened.

Dawson noticed a chill pass through her.

For all her bluster, some part of her cared a great deal and was not relishing what she was about to do.

The doors opened and Keats brought the trolley to a halt.

Dawson watched as she stared hard at the sheet-covered figure for a long minute before nodding at Keats.

He gently grasped the top end of the sheet and began to roll it back.

Her hand had moved to her throat and he saw the tremble.

As though realising she was displaying emotion she lowered the hand back down to her side.

Dawson found himself holding his breath, praying Keats didn’t reveal anything below the jawline.

He didn’t.

Lisa Bywater’s eyes filled with tears, giving Dawson his answer about the identity, but he needed a verbal confirmation.

‘Mrs Bywater, is this your brother, Luke Fenton?’