Page 14 of Dying Truth
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.
He nodded. ‘There are a few on the right leg but she seemed to favour the left.’
Kim had encountered a few self-harmers during her childhood. Some chose places on the body more readily visible with the subconscious hope of the wounds being seen, a cry for help. The inner thigh was a common spot for the most serious self-harmers. So close to the intimate area was unlikely to be seen by anyone. Sadie had not been trying to get noticed.
‘Jesus, this poor kid,’ Kim said. Whatever had been going on it had been too much for a thirteen-year-old girl to deal with.
In life, there were younger thirteen-year-olds and older thirteen-year-olds. Some had discovered boys, make-up, sexuality and could pass for much older. Some had not. But in death, scrubbed clean, it made no difference. It was a thirteen-year-old kid lying here on the table.
‘But, doesn’t that just strengthen the suicide theory?’ Bryant asked.
‘Only if you ignore the anomalies,’ Keats answered, reaching for a pile of X-rays. ‘Do you recall the position of Sadie’s body at the scene?’
‘Of course,’ she answered. The vision of the broken child was imprinted on her memory.
‘Care to adopt the position for me, in the interests of my detailed explanation?’ he asked.
She rolled her eyes as she began to lower herself to the ground.
‘Not down there,’ he snapped.
She looked to the metal workbench that was covered in X-rays.
‘Just get on here,’ Keats said, impatiently, pointing to the metal dish next to Sadie.
‘Keats…’ she warned.
‘Oh, stop being such a baby,’ he growled.
She shook her head before easing herself onto the side and then into the dish, trying hard not to think of the occupants that had filled the space before her. As she got into position she caught a glimpse of Sadie’s left hand peeping out from beneath the sheet. She fought the instinct to reach out and hold it across the space that separated them.
‘Okay, perfect, except your left leg needs to be a bit higher.’
She moved it as Bryant hid a chuckle behind a cough. She caught the wink that Keats sent his way.
‘Err… guys,’ she growled.
‘Okay, imagine that’s how you’ve landed.’
Kim closed her eyes and imagined that she had just thudded to the ground in this position. She felt the contact on the ground to her ankle, along the side of her lower leg, the edge of the knee and up to her hip, along the side of her ribcage and up through her shoulder.
‘Areas of greatest impact?’ Keats asked.
Kim didn’t open her eyes as she answered.
‘Ankle, knee, hip and shoulder.’
