Page 39 of Stolen Ones
Hawne Park was located just 1 mile out of Halesowen. At 285 yards long by 165 yards wide it was hardly a sprawling site, but the area had been adopted by the locals and improved over the last twenty years. One of those improvements was a set of brand-new black gates on Short Street, which was currently full of vehicles. Residents were gathered around the tape that had been pulled across the entrance.
Kim pushed her way through, ignoring the questions from the more vocal members of the group.
‘What’ve we got?’ Kim asked the first uniform she saw.
He pointed to a group of people made up of construction workers and suits, none of whom she recognised. She stepped into the middle of them and saw what they were all looking at. The digger being used was small with a forked bucket. At the very edge was a collection of what appeared to be small bones.
‘Are they human?’ asked one of the suits she didn’t recognise.
‘And you are?’
‘Jenson Butler, owner of Butler Building Limited. Micky called me as soon as he brought up the scoop.’
‘He called you first?’ she asked, appraising him. He had salt-and-pepper hair and she guessed him to be mid-fifties. He appeared to be in good shape, although he didn’t look like that was from getting his hands dirty.
‘Of course he called me. I’m his boss and he didn’t know what to do.’
‘They all with you?’ she asked, nodding to the other three suits.
‘Yes, that’s my health and—’
‘I don’t care. Take yourself and them to the cordon and wait to be spoken to.’
Even as she spoke, Bryant was shepherding people away. By the time it was just the two of them and a couple of uniforms, Keats was heading towards them.
‘Finish your lunch first, did you?’ she asked the pathologist.
‘I shall not dignify that with a response, Inspector,’ he said, walking straight past her and stopping at the bucket.
In this scenario, his job was not to immediately recover the body, it was to assess the likelihood of them being human remains, which was a whole different process. Nothing would be touched until he had made that call.
She and Bryant exchanged glances as he peered closely at the bones in the bucket.
‘Any chance of a time of death?’ Kim asked to lighten the mood around them. Finding bones was never a joyous occasion, but finding smaller bones was heartbreaking.
He ignored her. ‘Yes, Inspector, my opinion is that these bones are human. We appear to have most of a small hand, and I suspect that is the thumb there,’ he said, pointing to the left side of the hole.
Kim nodded towards Bryant, who stepped away and took out his phone.
‘She’s on her way,’ Keats said with dread in his voice. ‘I took the liberty of forewarning her of what I’d been called to, so she should be here any—’
‘Is that you, Keatings?’ came the familiar voice from behind them.
Despite the conditions, Kim couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.
Doctor A was a slight woman who measured no more than five foot two. Her hair was long and of the ombré style with the tips lighter than the rest. Her real Macedonian name was long and complicated, so everyone called her Doctor A. She was the most skilled and passionate forensic archaeologist Kim had ever worked with.
She offered her hand as the woman approached. There were few people she greeted with respect, and Doctor A was one of them.
Doctor A took it and shook it warmly.
‘Good to see you again, Inspector, but not so good,’ she said, glancing at the hole in the ground.
Kim nodded her agreement.
Doctor A approached the bucket. ‘And how are you, my sweetheart?’
‘I’m good, thanks,’ Keats offered with a straight face.
