Page 46 of Watching You
‘That evening,’ Carlisle replied. ‘They didn’t know what they were dealing with initially. The deceased’s body was taken down to the hospital morgue and there was no obvious cause of death when the patient notes were checked. A nurse had spoken to him as he was being discharged and said it was the best she’d seen him. Apparently he even left the ward without needing to usehis crutches. The one thing that had been noted was a puncture wound on Mr Campbell’s neck that ward staff said they hadn’t put there, and that hadn’t been seen previously.’
‘You think that was a mechanism for murder?’ Connie asked.
‘I think the air had to get into his body somehow, a needle had to have been used, and the neck is perhaps the fastest, most obvious point of entry. You want to take a look?’
‘I really do,’ Connie said. ‘Brodie, you sticking around?’ She turned to Carlisle and faux-whispered, ‘He doesn’t like the thing I do with bodies. Very old school.’
Baarda cleared his throat and folded his arms. ‘I’ll stay. And for the record, no one likes the thing you do with dead bodies. Nothing old school about it.’
Nate Carlisle raised his eyebrows, directed Connie and Baarda to where they could put on coveralls, and prepared Vic Campbell’s body for viewing.
‘You can take pictures but please don’t touch the body without me in here. I’m just going to give my staff a few instructions. I’ll be back,’ Carlisle said.
Connie got suited then went to Campbell’s body and tried to get a sense of who the dead man was by staring intently at his face.
‘You like him,’ Baarda said.
Connie frowned theatrically and tutted. ‘I hardly think that’s appropriate. He’s dead, for goodness’ sake. There are laws, you know.’
‘I meant Nate Carlisle.’
She laughed. ‘Yeah, I got that. Do younotlike him?’
‘He’s reputed to be an excellent pathologist, and yes, there’s nothing to dislike. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve … not been sleeping. Shall we get on with it?’
Connie gave a mock salute and cartwheeled her arms over her head, limbering up. ‘You want to have a go?’
Baarda raised his eyebrows. ‘This is your specialisation, not mine. I’m on sidekick duties only.’
The smile fell from her lips and she tipped her head to one side.
‘That’s not how you really feel though, is it?’
‘Just a joke,’ he said. ‘We’re not communicating very well today. The lack of progress on this case is frustrating. It’s like trying to fit pieces from several different puzzles together. Nothing fits.’
‘Wefit.’ Connie walked back over to the body and immediately broke Carlisle’s rules by taking hold of one of Vic’s hands in her gloved ones. ‘Has something changed?’
‘No,’ Baarda replied softly. ‘Tell me about the boy.’
She sighed. It didn’t take her skills to read the victim like a road map. ‘The tattoos are all standard gang stuff. Allegiances, challenges, something that might be a badge of rank. They’re supposed to look kind of scary, I guess, but the funny thing is, gang tattoos are as much a uniform and a symbol of compliance as wearing a political party pin or a boy scout scarf. These tattoos aren’t well done. I’d say most are amateur. Almost all gangs now have their own preferred tattooist.’
‘Someone in MIT will be able to tell us which gang,’ Baarda noted. ‘There’s plenty of undercover intelligence. He has some previous convictions.’
‘Anything of interest?’ Connie asked, rolling down the sheet that was covering Vic’s torso.
‘Petty theft, but he was acquitted of one serious charge of violence because the victim failed to attend to give evidence. He’s supposed to have put a chain around their neck until they passed out.’
‘That makes me feel sad,’ Connie told Vic’s body. ‘Why on earth would you do that to another human being?’
Baarda flicked through the file. ‘Looks like his drug use was long-term. He might have become violent when he was under the influence, or if the gang was dealing, it might have been a rival supplier. Alternatively, it’s the sort of thing they ask you to do for a gang initiation. Then there’s the possibility that he was just bad.’
‘I know,’ Connie said. ‘But at twenty-four? You’ve barely lived enough to be bad by choice at that age. Not without something happening to you.’
‘He has some peculiar markings on his buttocks,’ Carlisle offered as he re-entered and closed the door. ‘I’ll turn him over and show you.’ He removed the sheet completely and carefully manoeuvred Vic. ‘Here, here and here,’ he pointed to three small, round markings, faint with darker pink at their centres and rough skin around the edges. ‘You know what these are?’ he asked Connie.
‘Unfortunately, yes. They’re scars from cigarette burns, right?’
‘They are. There’s a lot of healing tissue around them so I’m guessing they were infected for a while indicating a lack of medical treatment, but the outside edges are quite pale now. I’d say these are old, probably from wounds that occurred during childhood.’
