Page 77 of Twisted Lies
‘As I’ve already explained, the programme can’t match the lifestyle of an individual. It does what it can.’
Kim considered just how much Dennis Burke had lost for doing the right thing: his home; his extended family; his career. There was no doubt the system was broken.
‘What are the chances of both Keith’s and Dennis’s enemies finding them in the same week and exacting their revenge with the exact same MO?’ Kim asked, crossing her arms.
‘I’d bet ten to one against,’ Penn said.
‘If they’re not being punished for their individual reasons for being in the programme, what are they being tortured for?’
‘Information,’ Stacey offered.
Kim nodded. ‘He has to believe they know something he wants.’
‘But they don’t,’ Bryant offered quietly.
‘We can’t know…’
‘Yeah, we can,’ he said decisively while looking at the board. ‘These people are not superhuman. They’re not trained Navy SEALs conditioned to withstand torture. They’re normal human beings being subjected to the most painful, horrifically slow deaths imaginable. If they had the answers, they’d give them.’
The room silenced. Bryant was right. The killer wasn’t getting the answers he wanted.
‘Okay, guys, given what we know now, Bryant and I are going back to the beginning. I want to take a good look at that psychologist’s notes about—’
‘They’re gone,’ Leanne said simply.
‘Sorry?’
Doctors kept records.
‘Destroyed. He called me after your visit. I advised him to shred them.’
Kim regarded her silently for a minute. ‘Sorry, but I’m just wondering if there’s anything else you can possibly do to obstruct this investigation.’
‘It’s what we do.’
Kim knew she had to get out of the room before she did or said something she’d live to regret.
If this was her boss’s idea of co-operation and assistance, he could stick it where the sun didn’t shine.
‘Okay, Bryant, we’d best go see what the good doctor can remember without his notes. The rest of you, carry on with what you were doing and Leanne—’
‘I don’t work for you, so you don’t get to tell me what to do.’
It was a good job, Kim thought, grabbing her jacket. Her instruction to the insufferable woman would have contained only two words, and one of those would have been off.
Sixty-Five
‘You know, it really is amazing what they do,’ Penn said, dunking a biscuit in his coffee.
‘How the hell can you watch and eat?’ Stacey asked, shaking her head.
‘Easily,’ he said, popping the whole soggy mess into his mouth.
Watching the post-mortem remotely wasn’t the same as being in the room. For one he wasn’t surrounded by the smell of antiseptic mixed with decay. On the other hand, the post-mortem was being carried out at a teaching facility morgue, and the camera in the top right-hand corner of the room was giving him a bird’s eye view of the whole process.
‘Penn, if he’s gonna use that saw again, can yer turn the sound down?’ Stacey asked without looking up.
The sound quality from their end was superb, and he could hear every movement. It was one-way sound, so he couldn’t ask any questions. A suited-up DI Lynes was doing a good job, although his female colleague had rested against the work surface a couple of times.
