Page 29 of One Left Alive
She shook her head. ‘No, but she said she did notice Saul’s car parked in a lay-by yesterday afternoon. It’s near another house she cleans on Fell Road.’
‘Brilliant, I’ll get a patrol to check it out.’
He walked back to the car, asking for a control to check for Saul Potter’s car in the location they’d just been given. His head was pounding. He needed a drink, probably water, but he hated the stuff so it would be a large coffee with an extra shot and probably a large, gooey, sticky cake to go with it. Sitting inside, he watched as Morgan pointed to the tree where Olivia Potter had been found hanging and wondered if she really had killed her family before killing herself. They would find out soon enough; next stop after the nearest coffee shop was the mortuary.
Nineteen
Ben had left Claire and Abigail at the house. He parked on the double-yellow lines outside The Coffee Pot, a small café that brewed the best coffee this side of the Lake District. Morgan had gone in clutching the £10 note he’d passed to her. The hazards were flashing, and he didn’t care if a parking warden busted him; he was desperate and, judging by the look of exhaustion on Morgan’s face, so was she. She came out a few minutes later with two large, pale pink coffee cups and a paper bag. She got in and he had to stop himself from snatching the cake from her fingers, he was so jittery and desperate for something sweet. As she passed him the bag, he peered inside. ‘There’s only one sticky toffee muffin in here.’
‘I know, it’s all they had.’
Gingerly he held the bag in her direction, hoping she said no. She shook her head.
‘You sure?’
‘Yes, I’m good. Thanks.’
He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Ripping the wrapper off, he took a huge bite and half of the ginormous muffin disappeared into his mouth. He knew she was staring at him in horror and he didn’t care. Swallowing it down with a swig of coffee, he pushed the rest of it in.
‘What?’
‘Nothing, I’m impressed.’
‘Guy’s got to eat, I’m starving. You must be hungry; it’s been a long day.’
‘I don’t know what I am, ready for a large glass of wine or a shot of vodka perhaps. Not food though. I’m not ready for that. So where are we going, back to the station?’
He didn’t usually care what anyone thought of him, whether he was heartless or worked them too hard. But for some reason it bothered him if she thought he wasn’t being fair to her, and the fact that he hadn’t told her his plans to take her to Olivia Potter’s post-mortem was making him feel bad.
‘I need to go back to the RLI.’
Morgan perked up. ‘Are we going to see Bronte? Has she woken up?’
The look of joyous expectation on her face made him feel even worse.
‘Unfortunately, no. I have to go see the pathologist. He wants me present at the post-mortem for Olivia Potter, which kind of means you’re going to have to be there too.’
He focused on the road ahead, forcing himself not to steal another glance at her face. He didn’t know what effect she was having on him; he couldn’t decide if he was treating her as if she was his daughter or whether he was ready for a new friendship like he had with Amy.
‘Oh, I haven’t been to one of those yet.’ Her voice was quieter than before, and he realised she was probably feeling a little daunted at the thought of it.
‘To be fair, there’s not much call for it. Back in the day when I first joined it was a standard thing, everyone had to attend one. Now it tends to be only for suspicious deaths and murders. I’d let you wait it out in the car, but it can take a few hours—’
She cut him off. ‘I don’t need to wait in the car; before we continue can we get one thing straight?’
He nodded.
‘I might be new, young, inexperienced or whatever you want to call me. But, I’m not some delicate flower. I’m here to learn. You said I could work alongside your team. I only want to do that if you treat me like a part of it, not some outsider who’s along for the ride to only do the easy jobs.’
He’d just taken the biggest gulp of coffee he could while driving and began to choke on it as he tried not to laugh. When he’d finished coughing, and was sure he wasn’t about to crash the car, he turned to her.
‘Sorry. From now on you get the shit jobs like the rest of them without so much as a care whether you’re happy or not. I can be an utter bastard; ask Amy, she’ll vouch for me. That’s good, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up; in that case you can scribe for me at the post-mortem.’
‘Thanks.’ Her reply was curt.
The drive took a while because the traffic in Lancaster was getting busy, but at last the hospital came into view.
‘I’ve hardly been here before in my life, now it’s my third visit since yesterday. Don’t we have a hospital a little bit closer than this?’
