Page 11 of Not That Complicated

“Okay.” Detective Nash leaned over and extracted the cup from my clammy grip. “Let’s set this down for a moment, shall we?”

I didn’t resist, although usually, trying to separate me from coffee would have me defending it like a starving honey badger defending the carcass of a downed caribou at the end of a hard winter. I am not exaggerating. Luckily for Detective Nash, I’d been distracted by a terrible thought. “Oh. Oh my god.”

“What is it? Did you think of something?”

“Yes. I’ve been doing yoga on top of a dead man for five years.”

He gave me a questioning look.

I thrust a finger up at the ceiling and the room above. “That exact spot was literally where I lay my mat. I did downward-facing dog on him.” I stared at Detective Nash in horror. “I didsavasana.”

“And that is?”

“In English?” I said, louder than intended. “Corpsepose.”

He was quick to smother a smile, but not quick enough. I saw it.

“So, what happens now?” I said, trying very hard not to imagine myself lying on top of the dead guy.

“We will continue to process the scene, any evidence will go to the forensics lab, and the body will be taken to a mortuary for further investigation by a forensic pathologist. It’s really nothing you need to worry about. My advice is to put it behind you and move on.”

“I’ll try. I’m not sure how easy that will be. Mentally speaking.”

“Well, you have my card if you have any further questions, and the pamphlet I’ve given you includes some numbers you can call for support.”

The pamphlet and his business card were on the table by my elbow. “How long before we know anything?”

“Realistically, the forensics will take months. It doesn’t work quite how you see on television or in the movies. These things take time for any case. Given the estimated age of the body and the crime, it’s not going to be a priority case. It could be a year. Or longer, depending on how backed up the labs are.”

“You’re not going to put him in a drawer somewhere and forget about him, are you?” I said.

“No. It’s an open investigation. If we can’t come up with a solid line of enquiry, the case will get passed to a specialised unit that deals with this sort of thing, but it will be ongoing. He won’t be forgotten.”

I chewed my lip and stared at the scuffed surface of the table. “Do you...do you think you’ll find out who he is? Who m-murdered him? I’m assuming you think it’s murder?”

“I doubt he put himself in the tub. Unless we find compelling evidence to the contrary, we’ll proceed under the assumption it was murder.”

I blinked over at him. “You don’t think I did it, do you?”

His lips twitched. “Did you?”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “No!”

“Okay. According to what you told me earlier, you’ve lived here for five years.”

Had I told him? I didn’t remember, but I had an uneasy feeling that I’d told him a lot of things. Most of which he hadn’t asked about, and didn’t need to know. I’d kind of unravelled a bit at the beginning there.

I hoped nobody ever interrogated me for real. I’d give up everything.

“Besides the fact the body appears to be at least partially mummified,” Nash was saying, “my roughest guess would put his death some decades ago. I doubt you were even born when he died.”

“Phew. Not a suspect.” I mimed wiping sweat from my forehead. “Do you think you’ll solve it?”

He hesitated.

“I’m not asking for an official answer here. But in your experience in dealing with this sort of thing, pure speculation: what’s the likelihood of even finding out who he is, let alone who put him there?”

“Very small,” he said. “Considering the apparent age of the body, the condition of the scene, and the circumstances in which we found it, I’d say it’s unlikely. Best-case scenario, it could take years. Which is why my advice is to put it behind you, and move on.”

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