‘All the same, you were in the vicinity. Like I said, you’ll be helping us.’
‘Sure. Whatever. Can I do it after work? My manager will be in soon and I haven’t even swept the floor.’
‘I think now would be better.’ Lottie worked hard to keep her impatience locked down. The boy was traumatised. ‘No premises will be open today. We need to forensically examine the entire area.’
She rose then, and nodded to Lei. ‘I’ll leave him in your hands.’
Outside, she looked over at the scene and beyond the wall and barrier.
A crowd of onlookers had started to form.
Next the reporters would arrive.
And questions would need answers.
He really shouldn’t have left the house so early that morning. He should go to school, but wasn’t he already in trouble? Rex wiped at the cold tears on his cheeks. Why had he stayed? Why hadn’t he run a million miles away from this horror story? But he was still here. Hiding. Watching. Would they know he’d been there, beside her body? That he’d sat and watched her like she was a statue until that other boy had come along? He’d thought therewere blue veins on her skin that made her appear as if she was made out of marble.
He’d heard the boy whistling outside the wall in the cold air and had scampered away just in time. He’d almost forgotten his school bag but remembered it at the last minute.
Now the white-suited CSI guys were all over the place. Searching. For him? Did they know he’d been right up beside the body? More tears pooled in his eyes, and he wiped them away with stone-cold fingers.
He watched as the tall woman walked around with a small fat guy, giving him orders before she headed off. It might be a good time for him to leave too. But he couldn’t go home and he couldn’t face school. Or maybe that was what he should do. Which way was best? Well, he couldn’t leave by the main entrance; the guards had it all blocked off. Instead, he’d have to make his way behind the cinema and hop through the gap in the ditch to his housing estate, which backed onto the complex.
Still he waited and watched, not knowing why he couldn’t tear himself away. But in his heart he was sure the dead woman was linked to what he’d seen from his bedroom window during the night. And he became very afraid.
11
The shakes rippled through Kirby’s hands as he stood outside the coffee shop. He felt the tremble move to his throat and he gulped. The dead woman had unnerved him in a way that even the deaths of two children in their last investigation hadn’t. Was it the fact that it brought back memories of the attack on his girlfriend, Amy? Possibly. Amy still had night terrors and was undergoing physio in an attempt to allow her to walk pain-free.
He had an urge to phone her, to see how her morning was progressing. Then he shrugged off his concern. Amy had started a new job the previous week in a solicitor’s office in town. Two mornings a week. It had brought some colour back to her cheeks without doing anything to mask the pain she suffered. He could read it in her eyes as if she had it inscribed there in actual words.
At least she was alive, unlike the woman lying on the damp ground inside the crime-scene tent.Gather all the CCTV from the businesses and the cinema. Find out who she is, the boss had commanded. That was what he’d do. He headed towards the tent.
Grainne Nixon looked up from her work when he ducked inside.
‘Get out, Kirby. You’re not even suited up.’
‘Shit. Sorry. Just checking if you have anything for me yet.’
‘Like what?’
‘A name?’
‘Wonder Woman isn’t mine, and I already told Inspector Parker that there’s no handbag, phone or ID scattered around.’
‘There’s no sign of a coat either.’
‘Gosh, I’d never have noticed that without your input, Sherlock.’
Kirby sighed. ‘I’m not being smart, I’m observing.’
‘You need to be suited and?—’
‘Any chance you can turn her over.’
‘Not until the pathologist arrives.’
‘Just a teeny bit.’