Page 4 of Child's Play
‘Chappie over by the climbing frame, and avoid that puddle by the gravel. That belongs to him too,’ said one of the uniforms.
Bryant turned and nodded towards him. ‘Want me to go over and?…’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You take a look in her handbag. Keats is less likely to have a paddy at you.’
The pathologist didn’t much like things being touched until the techies had been through them, but the bromance between the two of them offered Bryant a bit more leeway. Antagonising Keats at the beginning of a case rarely worked out well for her.
She knew much of Keats’s affection for her colleague grew out of sympathy at Bryant’s plight of being stuck with her every day. Keats felt the man had enough crosses to bear. And she didn’t necessarily disagree with him, she thought, as she stepped around the pool of vomit to approach the fair-haired male sitting on the ground.
His back was against the climbing frame, his knees bent with his arms resting on them to support his head as he stared down at the ground.
She guessed him to be mid-twenties, wearing dark jeans and a sweatshirt.
‘Hey,’ she said, showing her ID.
He pushed himself to stand.
‘It’s okay, you can stay on the—’
‘I just want to go home, officer. I was told that once I’d spoken to a detective I could…’
‘Okay, okay,’ she said, looking to the female police officer standing beside him.
‘Eric,’ she offered. ‘Eric Hanson of—’
‘Thank you,’ Kim said, assuming the young man had not lost the ability to speak.
His gaze had automatically lifted and been drawn back towards the swings. He started to shake his head.
Kim stepped in front of him and blocked the view. She nodded towards the plastic water bottle in his hand. ‘Take a sip, mate.’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘So, Eric, what happened?’ she asked.
‘She was just… I looked and…’
His eyes were staring straight through her, locked on to the picture he’d stumbled across. She didn’t need him replaying the horror over and over. What she needed were facts.
‘Okay, back up for me, Eric,’ Kim said, bringing him to the present. ‘What time did you come into the park?’
‘Half ten-ish,’ he said, lifting his attention to her face. ‘I just wanted to walk off that last pint of lager I downed at the club. Just fancied stretching my legs.’
‘So, you came from that direction?’ she asked, nodding towards the path from the club.
Although not a part of the park there was a path that led from Old Hill Cricket Club along to the entrance where she’d just parked.
‘Yeah, had a few pints with my mates and…’
‘And no one passed you as you were walking along?’
Another shake of the head.
‘Did you hear anything as you approached?’
‘Nothing. It was dead…’
His words trailed away as that one single word returned his mind once again to what he’d seen.
