Page 85 of Child's Play
She didn’t bother to argue or lie. He knew her well enough.
‘Ah, just the guy,’ Kim said, as Mitch entered the room. He was placing his phone back into his pocket.
‘Your guy moonlighting or something?’ he asked.
‘Sorry?’
‘Penn wants to swing by and see me later. Nothing to do with this case, I assume?’
Kim shook her head. What could Penn get from Mitch that he couldn’t get from the techies over at West Mercia? She made a note to catch up with him later.
Mitch looked around, then at the body and then at her. ‘You going for some kind of award this week? Let’s really give the techies the worst scenes we can find?’
‘No pleasing some folks,’ she said, moving closer to the table. ‘That board game look new to you, Mitch?’
He took a good look and shrugged.
‘Not a clue. It’s certainly not old and worn, why?’
‘I’m just thinking that not many middle-aged widows keep brand new board games around unless they’re collectors, and I’m not seeing any others around here, and look,’ she said, pointing. ‘Two counters placed at the start position. Why?’
‘Is that rhetorical?’ he asked.
‘Because the game wasn’t the intention,’ she answered. ‘Our killer didn’t want to play the game, so why bother?’
Silence.
‘That wasn’t rhetorical, guys, so I’m open to answers.’
‘First victim was on a swing,’ Bryant mused. ‘Second on a hopscotch and third on a board game. Not sure what he wants if it’s not to actually play.’
‘Me either and that’s what bothers me. I don’t get the point of the games judging by this. It’s set up but not played, why?’ she asked again.
‘To prove a point?’ Bryant asked.
‘To who? The victim or us?’
Her colleague shrugged.
‘But,’ she said, thinking aloud, ‘if the game is as important as the murder, it has to be done right. Our guy couldn’t assume there’d be a board game here to play. He had to have brought it,’ she said looking around.
‘Wait just one minute,’ she said, heading back to the kitchen. Bryant was close behind.
‘There’s the box, guv,’ he said, pointing to the kitchen table.
‘It’s not the box I’m after,’ she said, lifting the lid of the swing bin.
‘Aha, there you are. Mitch,’ she called over Bryant’s shoulder.
He entered the room slapping on gloves.
She pointed at the cellophane wrapper. ‘You can’t handle that stuff without leaving your prints all over it. It’s a nightmare to get off. It’s like opening a packet of biscuits.’
Mitch opened an evidence bag as he reached into the bin. He extracted the cellophane and held it up to the light.
He smiled in her direction.
‘Yes, Inspector, I think we might just have something.’
