Death Row - Mark Pearson [76]
‘Coffee to go, I am afraid, doctor,’ said Lorraine as she came into the office, her hat and coat still on.
‘What?’
‘There’s been some developments.’
‘Hang on a moment,’ said the pathologist, picking up his digital camera and firing off some shots.
‘What is it?’
Bowman put down his camera and looked over at her. ‘It’s a watch, Lorraine. A Mickey Mouse watch.’
*
Kate Walker walked out of The Australian, a pub on Camden High Street, fastening her scarf around her neck and buttoning up her coat. There was a definite chill in the air and it was getting colder by the minute. Across the road and further up ahead she saw DI Bennett going into The Star and Garter. She walked, heading in the same direction, towards The Pitcher and Piano, a few yards further on. Camden was turning into the new Islington, she thought, the number of bars and pubs in it. Maybe it always had been, she realised – she didn’t really know the area, it had never been her stomping ground. Maybe Islington was the new Camden.
She opened the door of the pub and threaded her way through the crowds of people fortifying themselves with a warming glass or two before heading home for Sunday lunch. The accents in the air were as polished as the new pine floor and the bar glittered with chrome and glass. The young staff in black trousers and crisp white shirts served the customers with smiles that dazzled. Jack Delaney would bloody hate it, she thought.
Five minutes later a twenty-eight-year-old would-be Lothario called Jeremy, his black hair in a ponytail, informed her that he’d been the duty manager on Friday night and could confirm that no one had left a jacket. He was also fairly sure that the man in the photo had not come into the pub that night. He did offer her his phone number but Kate declined. She didn’t smile.
*
Outside, Kate was standing for a moment to do up her belt when a young, slightly built woman charged past her, nearly knocking her over. She instinctively put a hand to her stomach and was catching her breath when an older woman with dark hair, Middle Eastern features and a furious look in her brown eyes raced past her as well and caught up with the first woman, slamming her against a wall. She was shouting something at the girl in a language that Kate didn’t recognise and had her hand around her throat.
Kate ran up to them, grabbed the older woman’s arms and pulled her away. The woman hissed through her teeth at Kate and threw a roundhouse punch at her. Kate let the punch come, lifting her head back as the fist passed. Swinging the woman around, Kate planted her shoe in her backside and kicked, sending her sprawling and shrieking to the pavement.
‘Hey!’ Bennett shouted from across the street and tried to cross. But the traffic at that moment was too busy. The dark-haired woman picked herself up and ran up the street away from them. Kate turned to the younger woman but she had flipped her hoodie over her head and was running fast in the opposite direction.
‘Oi!’ Kate called after her but she was already disappearing, weaving amongst the tourists and locals who turned Camden busy whatever the weather was like.
Bennett jogged up to Kate, ignoring a loud horn being hooted for his benefit. ‘What was that all about?’ he asked.
‘You got me.’ She frowned and looked back to where the girl had gone, out of sight now.
‘Something?’ Bennett asked her.
Kate frowned slightly and then shook her head. Whatever it was she’d remember it sooner or later. She looked down at the pavement, where a purse had been dropped. She picked it up and opened it. Inside, together with some condoms, were a couple of credit cards and a small plastic bag with some white powder in it. She held up the purse to Bennett and he lifted out the smaller bag inside, holding it at one corner between gloved fingers.
‘Something