Page 7 of Twisted Lies

‘We have every confidence that—’

‘Please,’ Penny said, holding up her hand. ‘Don’t make assurances that you’re powerless to keep. No one can predict what the jury is going to do. I just wish they could have known her,’ Penny said. ‘I wish you could all have known her. She’s been reduced to a statistic, a domestic violence victim, a poster child for every do-gooder to wave as an example of what might happen if you don’t get out of an abusive relationship. Everyone speaks of the shell she became, but there was so much more to her than the punch bag he turned her into.’

Kim said nothing as the woman glanced at the photo of the two of them hanging over the fireplace.

‘Look at her,’ Penny said. ‘She was beautiful, alive, vital.’

Kim had no argument. It was a posed photograph of the two of them, with Trisha probably late teens.

The similarity between the two of them was obvious, but it was as though the gods had taken more time arranging the features on Trisha’s face. The lips were slightly fuller, the blue eyes slightly brighter and the cheekbones just a little higher. Subtle differences that made a great impact.

‘No one cares that she hated spicy foods or that she always insisted on putting vinegar on chips before the salt, insisting that it made more chemical sense.’

Kim was happy to listen, as she had no idea what more she could do for this family. She had come to reassure them, but they didn’t want to hear that. It was as though they had resigned themselves to the worst possible outcome, and some part of her wondered if she was doing them some kind of disservice in trying to change their minds, when they were absolutely right that she could not guarantee a conviction. She only wished she could.

‘Okay, Ms Colgan, we’ll intrude no more,’ Kim said, rising. ‘But if there’s anything you need, give us a call.’ She handed the woman a card from her jacket pocket and headed for the front door.

Frost scrabbled her belongings together and offered a condolence before the front door was closed behind them.

‘Well, that was a waste of time, wasn’t it?’ Frost huffed as she waited for Bryant to unlock the car doors.

‘Told you already, Frost, you’re not getting any major headlines from us today.’

‘Yeah, it’s hardly front-page news that your perception skills in there were not the best…’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Kim snapped, reaching for the stress ball. ‘You saw for yourself how they were both feeling. There was nothing more we could do to help.’

‘Yes there was, but you just didn’t see it. Penny Colgan just wanted to talk about her sister. She wanted you to know and for herself to remember the person Trisha had been. She wanted you to know the woman and not the victim.’

Bryant said nothing, which told her he agreed with Frost. Her exit had been prompted by the thought they were forcing themselves into other people’s grief and that it was not a positive experience having them there.

‘You’re talking shit, Frost,’ Kim said, not sure what else to offer.

‘I swear, Stone, sometimes your witty repartee—’

Frost stopped speaking as Kim’s phone rang.

Oh shit, not now, Keats, she thought, seeing his name on the screen.

She opened the door and got back out of the car.

‘Stone,’ she answered.

‘Hayes T-Trading Estate, Lye,’ he said and ended the call.

She stared at the phone, dumbfounded. Not because of the pathologist’s lack of greeting, or his abrupt instruction, or his summoning of her presence to a location. All of those things she was completely used to.

What she’d never encountered before was the tremble she’d just heard in his voice.

Four

Kim said nothing of the call as she got back into the car.

‘Hayes Lane, Lye,’ she instructed her colleague while putting on her seat belt.

She’d already worked out that they would be wasting valuable time taking Frost back to the station, where her car was parked, and she could hardly do what she’d threatened and dump her on the side of the road, not in those bloody heels. And Keats’s voice had contained an element she’d never heard before. What the hell was she going to find?

‘So what’s that famous gut of yours saying, Stone?’ Frost asked, cutting into her thoughts.