Dying Truth

by Angela Marsons

  ‘Do you mean other than the fact she’s a thirteen-year-old girl that decided to end her own life?’

  ‘Yeah, apart from that. Anything physical?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing yet but I’d like to take a better look at her first. And with that in mind, I’m not happy continuing here,’ he said, glancing up towards the windows with faces crammed against the glass. ‘I’ll know more once I get her cleaned up.’

  ‘You’ll let me know?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course, Inspector, as I often have little else to do,’ he said, turning to one of the techs. ‘William, if you’d be so kind.’

  William stood at the feet while Keats stood at her head.

  They bent down in unison and gently turned her onto her back and onto the stretcher. Kim saw her whole face for the first time. She didn’t look older than her years. There was no make-up, eye shadow or mascara.

  She looked exactly what she was. A child.

  ‘Come on, guv, we need to get back to the—’

  ‘I know, Bryant, I’m coming,’ she answered, beginning to turn away.

  And then she turned back and took another look at her face. She noticed Keats doing the same thing with a puzzled expression.

  She took a step closer and peered at the left cheek, where a red mark stretched up and over her temple. A gash around her ear had been responsible for the pooling of blood beneath her head. But there was something not quite right with what she was seeing. She would have expected to see a portion of the head caved in where the skull had met the ground and gravel embedded in the soft skin of her cheek.

  Kim realised this did not look like a face that had just been smashed into the ground from three-storeys high.

  Seven

  Kim had not been surprised to see she had a missed call from Woody by the time she got back into the car.

  Her conversation with Inspector Plant had been pleasant enough, and he’d been only too happy to accept her assessment of suspicious circumstances. He had graciously agreed to leave his team to continue taking witness statements which he promised would be on her desk by the following morning.

  Her request to the coroner for a post-mortem on the body of Sadie Winters would not have gone unnoticed by her boss. Requests were made by police officers or doctors if the death was unexpected, violent, unnatural or suspicious. The main aim was to find out how someone had died and if an inquest was required.

  The Winters family would probably not thank her but permission from the parents was not necessary regardless of Sadie’s age. Her gut told her she was doing the right thing by looking more closely at the death of the young girl and yet she felt a moment of trepidation before she knocked on Woody’s door. She guessed it was coming from the doubt she saw in the eyes of her colleague every time Sadie’s name was mentioned.

  ‘Sir?’ she asked, popping in just her head and leaving her body on the other side of the door. She lived in hope that was enough of her and that the conversation would be short.

  ‘Come in, Stone,’ he said, taking his reading glasses from his head and placing them on the desk beside the photo of his granddaughter, Lissy.

  Or not.

  He pointed to the top right edge of his desk. ‘Do you see that empty space there, Stone?’ he asked.

  She nodded, knowing what was coming next.

  ‘It’s been empty for the last two weeks. Around the time I asked for a copy of your staff appraisals, which I feel sure you have carried out, and copies of which you have simply forgotten to let me have,’ he said, raising one eyebrow.

  She held in the groan that was desperate to escape. Appraising the performance of her team members each year was not an activity that came naturally to her.

  ‘The expression that you’re trying to hide tells me that you have not yet completed them,’ he observed. ‘Please tell me that you’ve at least given them the forms to complete?’ he asked.

  ‘Absolutely, sir,’ she said, nodding. About that she didn’t need to find some imaginative way to hide the truth. And she’d had them back too. She just couldn’t quite remember what she’d done with them. A fact she felt was unnecessary to share with her boss.

  ‘You’ll have them by the end of the week, sir,’ she said, edging towards the door.

  Now if she could just reach the handle before…

  ‘The parents of Sadie Winters are not happy.’

  ‘They know already?’ she asked. It had been less than an hour since she’d left the site.

  ‘Yes, they know.’

  ‘Sir, who informed them?’ she asked, frowning.

  ‘That’s not important right now. They have to face the thought of their daughter being butchered when it’s going to do nothing to bring her back,’ he said.

  ‘Neither is ignoring the suspicious circumstances surrounding her death,’ she countered. ‘But I’m gonna do it anyway.’

  ‘And you’re sure the circumstances are suspicious, and this has nothing to do with the fact you didn’t get to her in time?’

  Kim frowned. ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘More importantly, is it what you think?’

  She shook her head. She couldn’t have made it to the school any quicker, but she was stung by his words.

  ‘Do you really think I would prolong the pain of the family to soothe my own guilt, sir?’ she asked.

  ‘Do I think that your failure to change Mrs Worley’s mind in testifying against her husband was still on your mind when you got to the school? Do I think that you assume guilt for every victim you can’t save and thereby bury yourself in responsibility and personal determination to right any wrong?’ he asked, and then gave her no time to answer. ‘Yes, on a personal level, I do. From a professional point of view there are going to be a great many influential people watching you closely on this one, Stone,’ he said, meaningfully. ‘They are also going to be hoping that you do find her death to be suicide.’

  She nodded her understanding. Many rich and powerful people had been manufactured at Heathcrest Academy. The reputation of the facility was exemplary. And she was sure they wanted to keep it that way. Suicide as a manner of death was not the greatest recommendation for the school and was unlikely to appear on their marketing brochures, but it was better than other potential scenarios.

  Influential people would be watching her every move and would not hesitate to take her down if she put a foot wrong. By following her instinct back to Heathcrest she could be risking her job, her career, the respect of her team and the good faith of her boss.

  And none of these things bothered her one little bit when stacked against the death of a thirteen-year-old girl.

  ‘So, I ask you again, Stone. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’

  She met his gaze with stubborn determination.

  ‘Yes, sir. I am.’

  Eight

  Kim carried her coffee through to the general office to begin the morning briefing.

  ‘Okay folks,’ she said, looking towards the empty board. ‘Let’s get started.’

  Silence met her ears for a few seconds as her team glanced at each other but not at her.

  ‘On what?’ Bryant asked, finally, voicing the thoughts of the rest of her team.

  ‘Not one of you thinks there’s something here?’ she asked, surprised.

  Dawson shook his head. ‘Poor little rich girl probably couldn’t get her own way, tried to get some attention up on that roof and lost her balance,’ he offered.

  Stacey shrugged. ‘Or her boyfriend finished with her and she was distraught.’

  ‘Or she was pressured by the workload and it all got a bit much for her,’ Bryant offered.

  ‘So, we have three different theories but none of you think Sadie Winters belongs on our board? And of course this has nothing to do with the fact that she went to a private school?’

  They looked from one to the other, and Dawson spoke first. ‘Boss, I’ve got two serious assaults and a string of burglary offences.’

&n
bsp; Stacey looked up. ‘And I’m working on a list of armed robberies in Wolverhampton to see if there’s any—’

  ‘Hey, this isn’t a bloody prove your worth competition,’ she said, holding up her hands. ‘But would someone like to show me where it says on their job description that we care less about suspicious circumstances surrounding the death of wealthy people?’

  Dawson coloured. ‘It’s got nothing to do—’

  ‘Of course it has,’ she argued. ‘You’ve already assumed she’s a poor little rich girl who was seeking attention or that she had problems that you would class as inconsequential. What if this had happened at the school down the road from Hollytree, or the academy that’s at the end of your road, Stacey? Would you still assume the same things?’ she asked.

  ‘Just doesn’t look suspicious,’ Dawson said.

  ‘Looks like a suicide,’ Bryant replied.

  Yes, they were all right, she conceded and yet there were a few things she couldn’t get out of her mind. Things that had accompanied her and Barney on their late-night walk and which had still been there when she’d opened her eyes that morning.

  The first unnatural thing that churned her stomach was a thirteen-year-old girl taking her own life. Kim knew it happened but there had to be a big question why. You didn’t just accept it and move on.

  Physically she couldn’t comprehend the spot Sadie had chosen to jump from. A quick look down and all she would have seen was those vicious black spikes staring up at her. She would have needed to leap forward to miss them instead of taking a few steps to the right or left where she would have had a clear fall.

  The absence of a cigarette butt on the roof bothered her, too, but not as much as the lack of gravel marks on her skin. Individually these inconsistencies meant little, but together they mattered. Clearly less to her team than they did to her.

  ‘What exactly do you think we’re looking for, guv?’ Bryant asked.

  She shrugged. She really had no idea. She saw the collective sigh of relief as her team thought her admission signalled defeat. Not one of them thought there was anything suspicious about this tragic situation.

  So, it was a good job this was not a democracy and that she was the boss.

  ‘Dawson, write Sadie’s name on the board, now,’ she said as her phone began to ring.

  Nine

  ‘So, why exactly does Keats want to see us?’ Bryant asked, as he parked the car at Russells Hall Hospital.

  ‘Sadie’s parents have identified the body and are asking for a speedy resolution, which is understandable,’ she acknowledged.

  No parent wanted to think of their child being kept in cold storage in a morgue. They would want her body transferred to a funeral director where they could go and visit her and begin making plans for her burial.

  ‘Just a formality then?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Hmm…’ she responded absently.

  Once she and Keats had agreed it was suicide with no suspicious circumstances the body could then be released.

  She was about to enter the hospital when something caught her eye. Just along the pavement on a wooden bench sat two figures huddled together. The man’s arm was fixed tightly around the woman’s shoulders as though holding her together.

  Kim knew instinctively who they were. Their grief-laden shoulders and hunched backs told her she was looking at Sadie’s parents. She stepped away from the doors and headed towards them.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Winters?’ she asked, standing before them.

  They both looked up, startled.

  She introduced herself and Bryant, who was now standing beside her.

  Mr Winters made to stand but Kim shook her head.

  ‘Please, stay seated. I’m sure what you’ve just seen has been quite a shock for you.’

  This time yesterday they’d had two daughters and now they had one. On the face of it their youngest had chosen to end her own life. Their questions would never end. Their guilt would never end.

  ‘She looked so peaceful,’ Mrs Winters said, as the tears filled her reddened eyes. She turned back into the embrace of her husband, who pulled her tightly to him.

  Both were dressed in casual but well-cut jeans. He wore a sweatshirt beneath a sports jacket, and she wore a chunky cable-knit cardigan over a pastel shirt.

  ‘We are so sorry for your loss,’ Bryant offered.

  Mr Winters nodded and blinked his green eyes furiously to ward off his own threatening tears.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, looking towards the door. ‘I can’t stomach the thought of her in there amongst…’

  His words trailed away leaving Kim to wonder exactly what it was he feared. That she was amongst other dead bodies? No harm could come to her now.

  ‘We were first on the scene, yesterday,’ Kim said.

  Mrs Winters’s head snapped around.

  ‘Did you see her? Was she alive? Did you speak to her?’

  Kim shook her head. ‘My understanding is that it all happened very quickly,’ she said gently.

  Mrs Winters nodded and cast her eyes down. ‘That’s what Principal Thorpe told us.’

  Kim took a step away and then reconsidered. ‘May I ask you a couple of questions?’ She understood that they’d just identified Sadie’s body, but they looked as though they could bear a question or two.

  Mr Winters hesitated before nodding, and Kim understood that she needed to go easy.

  ‘Had Sadie been having any problems you know of?’ she asked.

  There was no hesitation before Mr Winters nodded.

  ‘Sadie has been troubled for a while now,’ he admitted. ‘She’s been withdrawn, hostile at times. We’ve been struggling to reach her. We assumed it was a phase, but she must have been unhappier than we thought,’ he said, looking away.

  Kim wished she had some comfort to offer but she suspected it was considerably harder to monitor your child’s psychological state closely when they were away at boarding school.

  ‘We just want to make arrangements to take her home,’ he said, quietly. ‘Sorry, you know what I mean.’

  Kim did know what he meant, and she would want the same thing.

  He continued: ‘That man in there, the pathologist, explained that he was waiting on the attendance of a detective.’

  Thanks Keats, she thought, for throwing the responsibility and landing it firmly at her feet.

  ‘So, you’ll release her to us?’

  ‘As soon as we can,’ Kim said, making it clear that she could not answer him right now. ‘We’ll inform you as soon as we can but there are just a few formalities first.’

  ‘But surely—’

  ‘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.’