Page 8 of Dying Truth
She returned to her first position which was directly in line with the body. She frowned as she looked down.
‘Who you gonna c— aah, I think I see what you’re looking at,’ he said.
‘The railings,’ she clarified.
A row of black wrought-iron spikes, about four feet high, surrounded a narrow-planted area she’d noticed on the ground. Four steps either way and there were no railings.
‘It’s obstructive,’ Kim said. ‘You look down and picture your body landing on those spikes.’
‘Ugh,’ Bryant said, looking away.
‘Exactly,’ Kim said. ‘And you’re a fully grown adult… allegedly.’
‘But if I’m killing myself anyway I’m expecting a broken neck or a fractured skull?’ he argued.
‘But do you really want to picture yourself impaled on those spikes?’ she asked.
‘Not really but I’m not a troubled thirteen-year-old girl,’ he offered.
‘Yeah, but I was, and I can tell you that I would have noticed those spikes.’
People wanted to die painlessly and that was no different for suicides. Fast and painless. Logically, it didn’t make sense to her. She recalled the grey mark on the bottom of Sadie’s shoe as she took another look around the surface of the roof.
‘Hmmm…’ she said, not finding what she sought.
‘What now?’ he asked, wearily.
‘The cigarette,’ she answered. ‘Sadie had recently ground out a smoke with her shoe but there’s no cigarette butt here,’ she observed.
‘Guv, what exactly are you thinking?’ he asked, with a note of fear in his voice.
‘I’m thinking we might just have a chat with our good friend Keats before we leave.’
Six
Kim stepped back outside into what appeared to be chaos.
Plant and his team had succeeded in clearing the area close to the body but were still trying to corral students and adults into some kind of order. Word had clearly travelled, and the number of spectators had increased tenfold. A third squad car had just pulled in and officers were trying to guide everyone back into the main building.
Kim ignored it all and focused her attention on the ground. ‘There’s one,’ she said, pointing. ‘And another…’
‘Secret smoking spot,’ Bryant said, looking around.
Kim frowned. ‘That ash mark wouldn’t still be on the sole of her shoe if she’d had her smoke all the way down here,’ she observed.
‘The butt could have blown anywhere up there, guv,’ Bryant said, nodding towards the roof.
‘Get ’em all collected,’ Kim said, moving towards the focus of the forensic activity. She was pleased to see that a modesty blind had been placed around the victim.
‘Can you not do something about all these people?’ Keats asked, bypassing any form of greeting.
‘Not really my case,’ she answered, with a shrug.
‘Then don’t speak to me,’ he said, pushing his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose.
‘Bloody hell, Keats, who pissed on your chips so soon?’ she asked. ‘I’ve only just got here.’
‘All these folks with smartphones trying to get a damn photo of this poor soul to plaster all over social media.’
