‘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.’
Ten
She resisted the urge to turn to Bryant with her ‘I told you so’ expression. Instead she kept her focus on Keats.
‘Go on,’ she urged.
He lifted and rolled the sheet slowly from the tip of her toes, over her knees and stopped at her upper thighs. He gently pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it towards him.
‘Bloody hell,’ Bryant said, as her own eyes widened.
She was looking at twenty or more thin scars and scratches criss-crossing each other. Some were white and some red, healed by congealed blood and more recent than the others.
Bryant shook his head. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘Self-harming?’ Kim asked, looking to Keats.