Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(11)

But right now, a phrase he didn’t use often entered his head. She looked put together. Her hair was stylishly cut and her skin looked smooth and healthy.

As though sensing his attention her cool gaze turned his way. There was no register of either recognition or emotion as her scrutiny held for a second and then moved along the row.

Penn couldn’t explain the shudder that ran through him as the court clerk announced the beginning of the session and instructed them all to rise.





Ten





‘So, what do you make of the X on the back of the neck and why are we heading straight back to Wombourne?’ Bryant asked.

‘I’m still thinking about the X, but we’re heading back cos I want another look around those houses without the overbearing sister and Mitch is on his way there now.’

‘Oh, he’s not gonna thank you for sending him in to that mess,’ Bryant observed. ‘You read the memo about that guy working a case in York?’

Kim shook her head.

‘Techie guy died falling through a warehouse floor at the scene of an attempted murder. Wife and two kids left behind.’

‘What’s that got to do with Mitch?’ she asked.

‘Guy’s boss is being blamed for failing to risk assess the area properly. You know how this works. Mitch is gonna be extra careful, which’ll take a lot of extra time. Shit rolls downhill as they say but in my experience it goes to the sides as well. A bit like us all having to suffer with this stress and burnout stuff because a few city coppers had a bit of a paddy.’

‘Bryant, I think the figures reflect a bit more than—’

‘I’m just saying that Mitch is going to be extra careful right now.’

‘Too bad,’ she answered, unsure what choice they had. The woman had been murdered and they had to look for clues.

Kim still hadn’t been able to let go of the image of the woman tied to the swing by barbed wire. The juxtaposition of those two items, the innocence of a child’s swing and the barbed wire, sharp, pointed and biting into the flesh.

The carved wound into the back of the neck had been inflicted after death, Keats had advised. It hadn’t been to cause pain or additional injury. In her experience, symbols were not meant for the victim. They were used either to purge something from the killer or to send a message. Make a statement. It was personal.

‘Uh, oh,’ Bryant said, as he turned into the quiet road.

Mitch was suited, booted and leaning against the bonnet of his van.

‘You are kidding?’ he asked, as she got out of the car.

Clearly, he’d taken a look in the hallway and got no further than that.

‘Gotta be done, Mitch,’ she said, leading him up the garden path. ‘The woman’s dead and much as I wish she’d tidied up first—’

‘Come on,’ Mitch interrupted. ‘This is more than a messy house. This is hoarding at its worst. It’s not safe for my guys to enter. I need to risk assess…’

‘Bloody hell, Mitch. I’ve seen you work at height, underground and in confined spaces. You’ve entered rooms that smell like Keats’s defrosted fridge, so man up and make a trail across a few nick-nacks for your guys. Jesus.’

‘A few nick nacks?’

‘Exactly. Glad you’re seeing it my way.’

He shook his head and sighed. ‘Given that this is a fair few miles from the crime scene, what exactly are you hoping we’ll find?’

‘The floor would be a start,’ Bryant quipped behind her.

‘I wouldn’t presume to tell you your job, Mitch, but this woman was in her early sixties, brutally murdered in a kids’ park and we need to find the bastard that did it. Like now.’

He raised one eyebrow.

‘And you know I’d never ask you to do anything I’m not prepared to do myself.’

He groaned, rolled his eyes and called over the rest of the team.

‘You owe me.’

‘Cheers, Mitch,’ she said, as his guys filed in behind him.

‘We going in, guv?’ Bryant asked.

‘Not a chance,’ she said, heading straight back down the path. ‘We’ve got somewhere way more interesting to be.’





Eleven





For once Stacey was pleased to have the office to herself, although the noise she’d hoped would go away was still blaring loudly in her head.

In one way she was pleased to have the distraction of another major case, God forgive her for the thought. The last few weeks of plodding through the mundane had given her too much time to think. Too much space for the doubts, for the negative thoughts running around her mind. She’d been asked a question and right now she didn’t have the answer. Was she prepared for her whole life to change, to leave the safety of the familiar, move out of her comfort zone. Quite honestly, she didn’t know.

She pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on the mobile phone records of Belinda Evans, while ignoring that her own phone had just dinged an incoming message. The phone hadn’t yet made it out of her satchel. She didn’t want it staring at her accusingly from the desk, taunting her into a response. She could ignore it so much easier if it was out of sight. And right now, that was exactly what she needed to do.