Page 22 of One Left Alive
All three stood outside the cubicle waiting for the doctor’s permission to set about taking the relevant forensic samples and seizing Bronte’s clothing. A nurse assisted Mark to take the fingernail scrapings and remove her clothing, taking time to gently dress her in a hospital gown. Ben stepped outside, taking Morgan with him to give Bronte some privacy.
Morgan looked back. ‘That poor kid, it’s horrific. Why would someone do that to her, to them?’
‘That’s what I intend to find out. Listen, I know you’ve had a rough ride and it’s early days, but what are you wanting to do career wise? Are you wanting to stay on response, or do you think you might want to pursue a career in CID at some point?’
‘I want to be a detective, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s why I joined really. I don’t think I’d want to spend the next twenty years driving around the country lanes aimlessly waiting for the next job to come in. I want to be the one putting the clues and evidence together, helping to solve crimes.’
‘You’ve given it some thought then?’ A small laugh escaped his lips.
Once more she felt her face begin to flush and wondered if he thought she was far too enthusiastic.
‘Sorry, that sounded…’
He held his hand up. ‘Look you have to stop apologising if you’re going to be working for me, I can’t take it. I’m miserable, grumpy, and I moan a lot but I’m not a complete bastard. You won’t get any extra pay, it’s much longer hours and you’ll have to go on the national detective development course at HQ and work with a tutor DC eventually. But I’m offering you a three-month attachment if you want it, so you can see if you like it or if it’s what you thought it would be before you decide. If you hate it, you can go back onto response. At least you’ll have given it a shot, though, and will know one way or the other if it’s the right career path for you.’
Morgan screwed up her face. ‘I don’t quite know what you mean?’
‘Don’t frown like that, you’ll end up with a face like mine. I need a hand. I’m desperately short-staffed and this is a huge case. There are lots of enquiries that need fixing up. Amy and I will take the lead, but you will be given tasks from the both of us to complete. You’re keen, you’ve been involved from day one and I think you’d be an asset to my team, eventually. What do you think, would you like to move up to CID? At least you won’t be driving a van around all day.’
Morgan let out a squeal. Grabbing hold of Ben, she threw her arms around him and he stiffened up. Realising she’d overstepped her mark, she let go, her hands dropping back down to her sides.
‘Sorry. Yes! Is this real? You’re being serious and not making fun of me?’
He shook his head.
‘Yes, yes, yes please. Oh my God, I can’t believe it, I thought I’d have to wait years for a chance to work in CID.’
Laughing, Ben shrugged. ‘To be honest you’ve kind of fallen on your feet because I’m so short-staffed; normally I wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of a rookie.’
‘Oh.’ The excitement deflated as fast as it had arrived.
‘I don’t mean that in a horrible way, it’s how it is. Circumstances have dictated otherwise though, and I know you’ll work hard and fit in with my team. So, you’re in?’
He held out his hand. She stared at it, noticing for the first time the smooth ring of skin where his wedding band should be. Grabbing hold of it, she shook it.
‘I’m in. Do I get to wear my own clothes?’
‘You certainly do.’
The curtain opened and Mark stepped out with a couple of paper evidence sacks in one hand, his case in the other.
‘All done. I think she’s going down to theatre soon.’
‘Cheers, Mark.’
Morgan stepped back into the cubicle, and Ben went to speak to the doctor in charge. If she’d thought that Bronte looked frail before, she looked even smaller now in the cotton hospital gown that drowned her tiny frame. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and took hold of her cold hand.
Clasping it tenderly, bending down, she whispered, ‘Keep fighting, Bronte, I’m going to find who did this to you and your family. I promise you.’
Sixteen
Neither of them spoke much on the way back to the station, and Morgan was desperate to change out of her soiled uniform. As if reading her mind, Ben parked up, saying, ‘You can go get changed, shower then come up to the office.’
‘I’d better go and speak to my sergeant, tell him where I’m going. They might be short on patrol if I come up now.’
‘You sort yourself out, and I’ll speak to Mads. He won’t mind; the DCI requested we ask you as soon as possible.’
That wasn’t strictly true, he knew. He’d requested Ben find someone ASAP. He hadn’t specifically requested Morgan, but she didn’t need to know that.
