Murder Club - Mark Pearson [61]
‘I really think we should go and see the doctor, Geoffrey.’
‘And what will she tell us? There’s nothing different. It’s a cold. You have to wait it out, that’s all.’
‘Well, dress up warm!’
‘Yes, dear,’ he said, smiling, his breathing steady now, and kissed her on the forehead.
Detective Inspector Emma Halliday had only been in the job for a few months. As a detective, that is. She had been promoted from sergeant back at the tail end of summer. She was in her mid-thirties, six foot one in her flat feet, with short hair that she had recently dyed black to give her a little more gravitas. She had clearly defined cheekbones and a set of perfect teeth. Her nickname back at Paddington Green was ‘Catwalk’, but very few people called her that to her face.
Emma’s father had been a policeman, and his father before him. Her twin brother had gone to university and studied textile design and was now successful, in a small way, in the fashion industry, with his own business just off Oxford Street. Emma had opted for Hendon, even though she had grades good enough to go to Oxford and read English, which is what her mother would have preferred. But Emma was always sure what she wanted to do, and that was to join the Metropolitan Police force. Sometimes, though, she regretted it.
She was waiting outside the morgue in the South Hampstead Hospital. Her young assistant, Constable Andrew Hoyland, shorter than her by a good few inches, with short-cropped ginger hair and a spray of freckles across his cheeks, was taking notes as she talked with the constable from the Transport Police and the A&E registrar.
‘He was brought in at eight-thirty last night?’
The registrar, a short man in his early thirties, nodded. His hair was dark too, but, whereas Emma Halliday’s was glossy and healthy, his was matted and dull and the bags under his eyes suggested he could do with a good night’s sleep. ‘That’s correct. He died shortly afterwards. His injuries were massive. Nothing we could do.’
‘And you still have no idea who he is?’
‘There was no identification on him. Do you wish to come through?’
The doctor gestured towards the morgue, and Emma Halliday could see the colour draining from her younger assistant’s face. ‘Are you all right, Constable?’ she asked.
‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll be fine.’ He sounded as though, by stating the fact, he hoped it might be so.
‘Goes with the territory, Andrew.’
‘I know.’
‘Can’t say you ever really get used to it. But we have to deal with it.’
The temperature dropped considerably as they entered the morgue, and Emma was glad of it. She hoped her constable would be okay, but equally she hoped she would be herself. She had made the mistake of eating a full English breakfast that morning, and prayed she’d be able to keep it down. He had seen a fair few dead bodies over her years on the force, but had never seen one that had gone under a train.
The registrar crossed to one of the large steel drawers and pulled it smoothly out. She looked over at DI Emma Halliday, who took a deep breath and nodded. The doctor pulled back the cloth covering the top part of the dead man’s body. His head had been smashed on one side, but not so badly on the other side. He looked like a man wearing a particularly gruesome horror-mask. The Phantom of the Opera without his face-covering.
It was enough for Detective Inspector Halliday. She nodded to the registrar and he slid the drawer smoothly back into place.
‘His belongings are over here.’
The small man led the detective over to a side-table where the man’s shoes and clothes and belongings had been put in individual, clear bags. Emma picked up one of them.
‘Eight hundred and fifty in cash. Lot of money to be carrying around.’
‘Yes,’ agreed her constable. ‘And in just a plain brown envelope?’
‘Yes,’ answered the registrar.
‘And just this card?’ asked Emma Halliday as she put down one bag and lifted another.
‘Just that, yes.’
Emma looked at the card in the bag. It was larger than a standard playing card. Rectangular, about six inches by four inches. The picture depicted the Angel Gabriel