Page 14 of Child's Play
‘Still better than you as you’ve now added liar to the list of your less favourable attributes.’
Kim shrugged. Looked like she wasn’t breaking this bromance up any time soon.
‘May I?’ she asked, stepping closer to the table.
Keats nodded as he continued to make notes on his clipboard.
Kim gently drew back the white sheet to reveal Belinda’s face. She looked past the complexion that always reminded her of raw pork and focussed on the features.
In this position, on her back with her head pointing towards the ceiling and her hair falling away from the face, the resemblance to the woman they’d just left was less striking.
There was a softness here, a gentleness to the features. Belinda carried a few more pounds than her older sister which appeared to soften the high cheekbones and sharp nose. There was a fullness to the lips instead of a sharp determined line. The most striking resemblance had come from the hair, clothes and jewellery, the similarity of which was still at the front of her mind.
‘Belinda’s sister will be along later to formally identify the body,’ Kim said re-covering her face.
‘I’m not completely finished,’ Keats admitted, checking something on his clipboard before leaning against the stainless-steel counter top.
‘But I will share what I’ve found so far. This lady was in excellent health and would have been for someone ten years younger. She’s never smoked or drank excessively and all her major organs were functioning well and still intact. There is evidence of arthritis in her elbow and knee joints but nothing that would have incapacitated her or even slowed her down at this point. May have required surgery in approximately ten years.’
Kim offered him her ‘not at all helpful’ look, which he ignored.
‘I find no evidence of broken bones or major injury which, strangely…’
‘Why strangely?’ Kim asked. She was ready for anything out of the ordinary that might explain why this academic, educated lady had taken a knife to the chest.
‘Strange, because I’ve rarely had a customer, especially of this age, without some kind of broken bone or injury. I myself have a broken bone in my wrist from not holding the cricket bat correctly when I was a child.’
Bryant stepped forward. ‘I got a broken toe from kicking a football when I was six.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Keats responded. ‘Well I broke my thumb falling out of a tree.’
‘Cracked jaw on the rugby field,’ Bryant countered.
‘Fractured femur when I fell from a two-storey building trying to catch a murderer,’ Kim piped up.
They both turned her way.
‘Fair enough,’ said Bryant.
‘Exactly my point, Inspector. All three of us have suffered major injuries.’
‘Perhaps she never played cricket, football, rugby or chased murderers around rooftops,’ she suggested.
‘I didn’t say it was a smoking gun, only that it was curious,’ Keats said.
‘So, general health was good and the cause of death was the single stab wound to the chest, which was a direct hit on the heart. The murder weapon is clearly a knife blade of seven to eight inches with a smooth sharp edge. The thrust was confident and decisive. There was no hesitation and it was accurately placed. Death would have been near instant.’
So, the aim had not been to cause as much pain and suffering as he or she could.
‘And the barbed wire?’ Kim asked.
‘Was wound around her wrists only moments before death,’ Keats answered. ‘Judging from the blood loss from the wrist wounds.’
‘Okay, Keats, as ever you’ve been—’
‘Your impatience is equalled only by your rudeness, Inspector,’ he said, moving towards the tray. ‘You should know by now that I like to leave a little something until the end. A finale if you like.’
‘Like something that might help?’
