Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(34)

‘Bluish discoloration of cyanosis is present on all nail beds and fingers, mouth, lips, gums, including the face. The mucous membranes of the upper and lower eyelids appear reddish. Petechial haemorrhages have appeared on the inside of the eyelids, in the whites of the eyes and in the mouth.’

He traces his finger along her arms, before examining her neck, where a thick rubber band has created a groove in her skin. He takes measurements and photographs before using a scalpel to cut the bands, which he places in an evidence bag.

When he turns on the oscillating saw, I leave the viewing room because I don’t want to watch the internal examination. I know that it’s necessary in forensic terms, but I don’t need to see her being defiled in death as well as life.

An hour later, I’m sitting in Ness’s office. The pathologist has changed out of his hospital scrubs, but there is still talcum powder between his fingers and a smudge left on the side of his nose.

‘How did she die?’ I ask.

‘The rubber band around her neck would have deprived her of oxygen, but not enough to kill her.’

‘How then?’

‘Her neck is broken.’

‘She was hanged?’

‘No.’

Ness begins drawing a sketch on a piece of paper.

‘Maya had four distinct external injuries. Fractures to her skull, left upper shoulder, right frontal rib bones and severe bruising to her lumbar region. All of these indicate that she fell or was pushed from a height, most likely falling down a set of stairs. That explains the cement dust embedded in her knees.’

I picture the scene. Maya’s arms were bound behind her back. Once she lost her balance, there was no way of shielding her head, or stopping her fall.

‘She was trying to escape,’ I say, thinking out loud.

‘Possibly,’ says Ness.

‘When?’

‘She was alive for forty-eight hours after she was taken.’

‘DNA?’

‘Unlikely. The risk of contamination from the ditch is too high.’

My mind drifts back to the rubber band around her neck.

‘He was keeping her alive. He had plans.’

‘Your area of expertise, not mine,’ says Ness.

At some point, the police will ask me for a psychological profile. I need to understand the killer’s behavioural parameters and triggers. To do this properly, I have to put myself in Maya’s shoes – to see the world through her eyes. The bindings suggest sexual intent, but she wasn’t raped or sodomised. She was kept somewhere for two days. Given food and water. Slowly deprived of oxygen. We’re looking for a planner. Someone forensically aware, who is prone to making mistakes when put under pressure.

But I still don’t know his motive. Did he mean to kill her or to keep her?





22


Evie


Veejay is dressed like a hippy today in a linen top with an embroidered neckline and white harem pants. The first streaks of silver are showing up in her thick dark hair, but she hasn’t tried to hide them. Maybe this is her statement about ageism, or she could have lousy eyesight.

‘How is the new job?’ she asks.

‘I’m going to find another one.’

‘Why?’

‘They want me to wear a dress.’

‘And that’s a problem?’

I lift my shoulders and drop them. ‘I don’t have any dresses.’

‘I see.’

What does she see? She doesn’t have a clue.

‘What else is happening in your life?’ she asks.

‘Nothing.’

‘How are your studies?’

‘Pointless.’

She asks me about my dreams. Nothing seems to make her happier than when I have a dream to share, something she can analyse and write in her notes. I make them up sometimes, like when I dreamt that my hair turned into spaghetti, or that I could bake puppies using pancake batter. Veejay wrote that down.

We fall into another silence. She and Cyrus are both experts at letting time drag out. I can feel my life ebbing away. Tick … tick … tick. Veejay gets paid by the hour, so it doesn’t matter to her. Maybe that’s what I should be – a therapist. I’d know when people were lying.

I want to talk about what I did to Cyrus – faking his dating profile – and how angry it has made him, and how maybe he doesn’t want me living with him any more, but I was only trying to do something nice for him. Maybe I could convince her that my heart was in the right place. Maybe I’d be lying.

Instead, I ask her about Mitch.

‘If someone is found guilty of sexual assault and they didn’t do it, what happens?’

‘They can appeal.’

‘What if they’ve already served their sentence?’

‘They’ve missed their chance.’

‘So that’s it? What if they can’t get a job, or find a place to rent, because everybody treats them like a criminal?’

‘I’m sure there are welfare agencies. Who is this person?’

‘Someone I met.’

‘He could be lying.’

‘He’s not. There must be some way to prove he’s innocent.’

‘Perhaps if the guilty person confessed, or if your friend found new evidence.’ Veejay seems to stop herself. ‘Have you talked to Cyrus about this?’