Let the Dead Speak (Maeve Kerrigan #7)

‘We’ll split up. I’ll get a couple of men on the water. If he’s in the area, we’ll track him down.’

They were true to their word. Before dusk had quite fallen, but after Kate Emery’s body had been removed to the black private ambulance that would transport it to the morgue, they called me to the riverbank. It had stopped raining and the evening air was sweet. Georgia came too and the two of us traipsed along the path for a mile or so, in silence. There had been a lot of silence from Georgia since we had found Kate’s body. She wasn’t stupid; she knew she was going to be in trouble. We were all in trouble, if it came to that. I was too tired to mind, much. I could deal with it; I would have to. More important was doing my job while I still had the chance.

The first sign I had of what they’d found was a glimpse of an inflatable boat, lights mounted fore and aft, manoeuvring against the current. Then we came out from under the trees and I could see them: a small gang of police officers strung out along a narrow jetty that stretched into the river. One of them was manning a searchlight, angling it carefully into the water as two others grappled with something that the men in the boat were trying to pass to them. It was a black shape, formless, anonymous, and it landed on the jetty with a solid thump that made me wince even though I knew he was beyond feeling it.

Georgia let me go first and the two of us walked down to the end. Una Burt was there, square and unsmiling, which hardly seemed fair; she had wanted Kate Emery’s body and we had found it, after all …

Derwent was crouching beside the corpse, inappropriately casual in borrowed jeans and a jumper. He checked the pockets deftly, coming up with a cigarette tin, an inhaler, a thin wallet with a saturated ten-pound note in it.

‘Anything else?’

‘Nope.’

‘Keys?’ I said. ‘For the car?’

‘Not so far.’ He checked again. ‘No.’

‘They might have fallen in the water,’ one of the other officers suggested. He was an inspector, I noted. ‘The tide was pretty strong.’

Derwent looked up at me. ‘They only found him because he was caught on a tree branch further downstream.’

I leaned across, bracing myself on Derwent’s shoulder briefly to look more closely at the body.

‘Problem?’ Burt said.

‘His face.’ It was swollen, barely recognisable. His mouth was hanging open and I could see one of his teeth was missing. He hadn’t had anything like that amount of damage the last time I’d seen him.

‘Looks as if he did a few rounds in a boxing ring, doesn’t it?’ The uniformed inspector shrugged. ‘That happens with drownings. Especially when the river is running high. Lots of debris in there, moving fast.’

I stepped back from the body. ‘I want Dr Early to do the PM.’

‘Our guy is good,’ the inspector said.

I nodded. ‘I’m sure he is. I just want to be sure.’

‘You can have Dr Early if you want,’ Derwent said, straightening up. ‘But I’ll tell you this for free. It’s definitely Turner. And he’s definitely dead.’





35


The next day, I went to the hospital. My first problem was getting through the security checks to gain access to the secure unit where Bethany was being treated. The second problem was sitting on a chair outside her room. Morgan Norris stood up when he saw me coming down the corridor towards him, and folded his arms.

‘No way, sweetheart. I’m not letting you anywhere near her.’

‘It’s not really up to you,’ I said, ignoring the way he’d spoken to me even though the word sweetheart was creeping up and down my spine on scuttling insect feet. ‘I need to talk to her.’

‘So you thought you’d sneak in to talk to her while everyone’s back was turned. That’s hardly ethical, Sergeant.’

As if you know anything about being ethical. I held it back behind my teeth and smiled. ‘It’s an important part of the investigation.’

And if I didn’t get to do it now, I probably wouldn’t. I was avoiding the office, avoiding Una Burt and the investigators who wanted to talk to me about Kate Emery’s death. I was going to be on restricted duties – Burt had more or less told me so – and this was my last chance to interview Bethany Norris.

So I was absolutely not going to let Morgan get between us.

He was shaking his head. ‘Can’t do it. Sorry. If Eleanor and Ollie were here they’d say no.’

‘Where are they?’

‘No idea. They left me in charge.’

I wouldn’t have done any such thing and it probably showed on my face because he looked offended.

‘Do you have a problem with me?’

‘Not personally.’

‘What does that mean?’

It means I’d like to arrest you for raping Kate Emery and I’ll never get the chance.

‘My only interest is in solving the case,’ I said.

‘I thought it was all squared away. Turner is dead.’

‘Yes, he is.’ And in about half an hour he would be on Dr Early’s slab, giving up whatever secrets his body held. I could imagine the sound of the saw, the tools snapping through his bones, the wet slither of organs detached to be weighed, measured, described and dropped back into the body. I’d proved my nerves still held by attending Chloe’s post-mortem; I didn’t need to endure William Turner’s. ‘I’m tidying up the loose ends.’

‘Loose ends,’ Morgan repeated.

‘Like what exactly happened when Bethany and Chloe disappeared. I need to know how Turner found them and if he ever threatened either of them. When was the last time you saw Turner?’

‘I have no idea.’ His eyes were flat. He didn’t care or he wouldn’t tell me; either way I was getting nothing out of him.

‘Where were you yesterday?’

‘Here. All day.’ He looked around vaguely. ‘The nurses can tell you.’

‘Why were you here?’

‘Keeping an eye on Bethany.’

‘And where was Eleanor?’

‘She had to go. Ollie phoned her at lunchtime. He needed her to drive him somewhere.’

‘Why couldn’t he drive himself?’

‘I don’t know. Because Eleanor had the car here?’ He said it as if I was stupid, which was fine by me. I wanted Morgan to think I was stupid if it meant he’d let me see Bethany. ‘He needed her to pick him up. I don’t know where he was, before you ask me, and I don’t know when they came back. They were at home last night when I got there.’

‘Did you see them?’

‘I saw Ollie. Eleanor went to bed early.’

‘What about today?’

‘Eleanor was here. Not very communicative, as usual.’

‘When did she leave?’

‘An hour ago? Ollie rang her and she said she had to go.’

‘Go where?’

‘She didn’t tell me.’

‘Any ideas?’

‘Home?’ He shrugged. ‘I really can’t tell you. When Oliver calls, she goes. She’s like his slave. Maybe that’s why he married her. It definitely wasn’t her looks or her sparkling conversation, was it?’

‘I thought you saw her first, Morgan. I thought Oliver took her away from you.’

That hit home. ‘It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t interested in her. I was messing around with her, that’s all.’

‘Did you mind when she chose him over you?’

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