Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(7)

He had seen the look on the boss’s face when he’d revealed his progress on the case. He didn’t relish the conversation with the parents either.

How can they have been beaten black and blue in broad day light without anyone seeing a thing? they would ask.

His response of ‘this is Hollytree’ would not suffice. Understandably.

Equally, that expression on his boss’s face was not something he enjoyed. He knew her disappointment wasn’t at him personally but at the situation.

‘Damn it,’ he said banging his hands on the steering wheel.

If only he could find one person prepared to talk to him.

‘Fuck me, mate,’ he said out loud as an oversize vehicle passed by his parking spot leaving only a hair’s breadth of space between them. Penn’s car shook with the impact.

‘I’ll bloody report…’ his words trailed away as he read the words on the back of the truck.

He smiled, started the car and followed the van.





Eight





Keats paused his Dictaphone as Kim and Bryant entered.

‘Well, how lovely to see you, Bryant,’ he said, glancing her way. ‘And I see you brought your bulldog.’

‘Don’t bait her, Keats. She is not in a good mood,’ Bryant said, wearily.

‘Discernible how?’ Keats asked.

‘Certainly not enhanced by you two clowns acting as though I’m not here,’ she snapped.

‘Ooh, tetchy, Inspector,’ he said, unruffled. ‘So, who stole your favourite toy?’

‘The girl died,’ she said, flatly, heaving herself up onto the metal work surface.

‘Aah yes, I heard she was in a bad way. I understand the paramedics already saved her.’

‘Twice,’ Kim confirmed. ‘But she slipped into a coma and died half an hour ago.’

Keats sighed. ‘If help had come sooner, who knows? Heroin overdose can be prevented if caught in time.’

‘Really?’ Bryant asked. ‘I’d have thought too much of that poison running round your body would just be game over.’

Keats shook his head. ‘Heroin is an opioid as you know. It enters the brain and is converted back into morphine which binds to the opioid receptors throughout the central nervous system. Dopamine floods the system giving a rush of pleasure much higher than you could ever hope to experience naturally.’

‘And that’s what keeps them addicted,’ Bryant observed.

‘Actually, no,’ Keats replied. ‘The feelings of euphoria are short-lived. The feeling dissipates and then disappears altogether as the user builds tolerance to the drug. Most seasoned users continue to use to avoid the withdrawal but the high they originally felt is a distant memory.’

‘But an overdose can be reversed?’ Kim asked, surprised.

Keats nodded. ‘There are chemicals that bind to the same receptors temporarily displacing the heroin, but these chemicals have a shorter life than heroin and won’t stay in the body for long. It’s not perfect but it can be done.’

‘Not for our girl, unfortunately,’ Bryant said.

‘Poor child,’ Keats said, shaking his head. ‘It would seem I’ll be meeting her properly later.’

Kim checked her watch. ‘Thought you were doing matey boy at nine?’

All three sunken dishes were empty.

‘He is done,’ Keats said with a smile. ‘When Mitch told me there were no needles at the scene I had this strange premonition, accurately as it happens, of you storming in here first thing this morning, demanding answers.’

‘Hardly a shot in the dark, was it?’ she asked.

He ignored her and read from his clipboard. ‘“The unidentified male is five feet seven inches with curly black hair. Weighs one hundred and seventeen pounds”, which is four pounds below the lowest figure for his height. You don’t need to be told he had needle marks from injecting heroin. “Historically he has four broken bones from childhood”.’

‘Either clumsy or beaten,’ Bryant said.

Keats nodded. ‘No way to tell for sure but his bones tell me he wasn’t taken care of during childhood. All major organs in reasonably good shape, although he was a bit of a drinker too. Minor liver damage.

‘In the absence of any other clear method it is my opinion that this male died of a heroin overdose. Now how that heroin got into him is your job, Inspector.’

‘Anything to help us identify him?’

Boy how she hated thinking of victims without a name. She needed to know who she was fighting for.

‘Opinions or fact?’ he asked.

‘You don’t normally ask before you share either,’ she observed.

‘And, she’s back in the room,’ Keats said, peering over his glasses.

‘In my opinion he is late teens, early twenties, and is homeless. His nails and teeth don’t reflect someone with easy or regular access to hygiene facilities. He has a Celtic band tattoo around his upper left arm.’

Keats paused while Bryant took out his notepad.

‘A piercing in his right ear which has been left to heal over. All samples have been sent to the lab and I’ll have results for you in the next couple of days.’

Kim jumped down from the counter lighter than when she’d jumped up. Clearly there was no link to her or her past, and although two people had lost their lives in a similar way to how her mother had tried to kill her and Mikey, there was no connection. It really was coincidence and she could attack this murder like every other she’d been tasked to investigate. Everything that had linked them was nothing but coincidence, which for once she was prepared to consider. The Coca Cola bottle could have been left there at any time, but a vital part of the scene was missing and that was all she needed to know to rule out any connection. Woody had instructed her to return if there were any further developments.