Page 100 of Deadly Cry
‘Hey, Keats, did you miss me?’ Kim asked, entering the morgue. The hours since they’d seen each other were barely into double figures.
‘Only if my aim was off,’ he said without turning. ‘And where’s Penn?’
‘Bloody hell, Keats, anyone would think you didn’t like me after all the years we’ve accrued of mutual understanding and respect, whereby we value each other’s opinion and expertise.’
He turned to Bryant. ‘Is she drunk?’
‘Keats, I am cut to the quick,’ she said, clutching her chest. There were few reasons to look forward to coming to the morgue, but baiting Keats was definitely one of them.
‘Inspector, I have no idea what a “quick” is nor where it is found on the human body, but I very much doubt that you possess one.’
Ah, a point she wasn’t sure she could argue with.
‘I see you started without us,’ she said, observing the state of the body on the table. The Y incision had been closed neatly.
‘The dates and times published by the management of this establishment are offered in an advisory capacity only and are subject to change whenever I say so.’
Kim opened her mouth to retort something along the lines of his estimated times of death having that same level of fluidity but noticed the pinched expression on his face just in time.
‘Something else come in, Keats?’
‘Two children in a house fire.’
The room fell silent. Bad enough imagining two young souls lost in such a horrific manner, but to have to pick through their remains for answers took a stronger stomach than she had.
The retort died in her mouth.
‘Okay, Keats, we’ll take the edited version and let you get on.’
‘Thank you. As usual, all weights and measurements will be on my official report which will be with you later today. The victim appeared to be in reasonable health and, although we’re pretty sure our killer doesn’t share a meal with his victims prior to death, so it’s unlikely to help, her last meal was scrambled eggs and bacon.’
Normally, Bryant would have asked what kind and Keats would have shot back a response, but now was not the time. The vision of two dead children awaiting his attention was still firmly in the mind of all of them.
‘Not really that helpful, Keats, to be—’
‘Inspector, cases have been solved through the examination of stomach contents.’ He shook his head as he launched into full lecture mode. She had five minutes spare to indulge him.
‘Two men held up a coffee shop in Eugene, Oregon. The barista shot the first man, but the second got away. CCTV wasn’t working, so the second masked gunman couldn’t be identified. The post-mortem of the first gunman revealed food that had barely been digested, and investigators could make out a certain type of fry served by a local fast-food restaurant. CCTV checks showed both men eating a meal at that restaurant and also trying the masks on prior to the event. Gotcha.’
‘Gotcha?’ Kim asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Just using a vernacular you might understand.’
‘Thanks for that, Keats, now—’
‘No signs of a struggle with this one,’ he noted, returning to the job at hand.
‘We think this victim knew the killer,’ Bryant said.
‘But not the other two?’ he queried.
Kim shook her head.
‘Okay, well, as I’m pressed for time I have only one thing of interest to reveal and there’ll be no dramatics.’
That was a first for the pathologist.
‘Photos or actual?’
