Creed (A Kate Redman Mystery Page 3

  Kirsten half-smiled. “Well, that’s your department, Kate. I can’t comment on that. All I can say is that Joshua Widcombe didn’t cut his own wrists.”

  “Right, right,” Kate said. She thought back to what Anderton had said at the debrief. “What about the blood-loss at the scene? There seemed to be some doubt about the amount of blood found around Joshua’s body – that the amount didn’t seem commensurate with the type of wounds he had. Is that right?”

  “I didn’t attend the scene, Kate. I’m not sure. Let me talk to whomever did, and I’ll see if I can draw a conclusion.”

  Kate nodded. They were both silent for a moment, and Kirsten went on with her examination of Joshua Widcombe’s body. Kate watched her, thinking of what she’d just been told. If Joshua hadn’t slit his own wrists, then who had? Kaya Trent was the obvious person, but what if – just suppose – it was someone else? But why? And did that mean that perhaps Kaya hadn’t cut her own wrists, either? Kate asked Kirsten that exact question.

  Kirsten shook her head. “There’s nothing to suggest that Kaya’s wounds aren’t self-inflicted.”

  “But, is it possible?” Seeing Kirsten frown, Kate went on hurriedly. “I mean, remotely possible?”

  After a moment, Kirsten shrugged slightly. “I suppose anything’s possible. I don’t think there’s anything that would stand up in court, though. Kaya Trent looks like a cut and dried suicide to me.” She looked at Kate. “You are, of course, welcome to get a second opinion.”

  “I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Kate said hastily, wanting to thaw some of the frost that had suddenly appeared in the air. “I’m just thinking aloud, really.”

  Mollified, Kirsten nodded again and bent back to the table. Kate shifted on her chair, clenching and unclenching her fingers against the metal sides. Had there been a suicide note? She tried to recall the notes she’d so hastily read before getting in the car to come here. Had there been a note? Try as she might, Kate couldn’t remember. She shifted again, impatiently.

  After a long while, Kirsten pulled the green sheet back up over the body and straightened up, wincing a little. She pulled the rubber gloves from her long hands and immediately rubbed the small of her back with her palm.

  “Should you really be on your feet for this long?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know,” sighed Kirsten. She walked painfully over to the hazardous waste disposal bin in the corner and threw the gloves inside. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be actually doing the autopsies. It’ll be desk duty for me soon, no doubt.”

  “Oh well,” Kate said, trying to sound sympathetic. “How much longer have you got?”

  “Four months.”

  “This is your first, isn’t it?” Kate asked. She wondered how old Kirsten was and how she could ask without sounding rude. After mulling over the question, she decided she couldn’t. She began to thank Kirsten for her time, in preparation for leaving.

  “Kate, there’s one thing you should know that might be pertinent.”

  “What’s that?” Kate asked, alert once more.

  “There are indications that Joshua Widcombe died earlier than Kaya Trent – maybe up to a couple of hours earlier than she did. From looking at the stomach contents—“

  Kate interrupted her. “Seriously? He might have died a few hours before—“

  “Up to a couple of hours before. No longer than that.”

  Kate brushed the interruption aside: “Fine, but he did die earlier than Kaya, right?”

  “Yes. The findings indicate that.”

  “And he didn’t cut his own wrists?”

  “No.”

  Kate paused, thoughts sparking around her brain like fireworks. It wasn’t Kirsten’s job to listen to her suppositions, though; there was no point hanging around further. She thanked the doctor, gave her congratulations about the baby once more, and said goodbye.

  Chapter Three

  “I knew it,” Anderton said, pacing up and down the room as was his wont. “I knew it. I knew there was something odd about the scene, and I didn’t even have to be there. Well done, Kate.”

  Kate, who’d just relayed the gist of Doctor Telling’s examination, raised her shoulders in a half shrug. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though, does it? I mean, if Joshua Widcombe wanted to commit suicide, he could just have easily have got his girlfriend to cut his wrists for him. There was nothing in the way of defence wounds or anything like that.”

  “Granted,” Anderton agreed, turning on his heel. “But what about the time differential? If he died up to two hours before...” He trailed off, rubbing his chin with his hand. “There’s nothing about this case that makes sense as a suicide pact. Really. If they both decided to die together, why did Joshua die two hours before Kaya? Was she wondering whether she had the nerve to go through with it? But then, if that were the case, how did he not have the nerve to cut his own wrists?”

  The team were silent for a moment, all of them to a man (or woman) looking at the crime scene photographs: observing the two dead dolls laid out on the smooth green floor of the theatre. Kate broke her gaze from the whiteboards and looked around the room. Theo, looking a hundred times healthier than he had yesterday, regarded the photographs intently, a frown pulling his thick black brows down. Fliss was silent, biting her lip. Rav’s keen gaze moved rapidly from one photograph to another.

  Theo raised a tentative hand. “If – if – we’re talking about something other than a straightforward suicide pact, where’s the motive? Why, if it was Kaya Trent that cut her boyfriend’s wrists, non-consensually – how did she manage to do it? He was a big guy, for an eighteen year old, and she was pretty little.”

  “All good points,” Anderton said. He’d reached a spare desk and hauled himself up to sit on the edge of it. “I would also make one further comment.” The team turned their faces to him as one, expectantly. “If, as Theo says, Joshua was not the one to cut his wrists, then who’s to say that Kaya was the one to do it?”

  There was a moment’s humming silence. Then Kate cleared her throat and asked “You think there was someone else involved?”

  Anderton pushed himself off the desk and began pacing again. “No. Well, perhaps. I’m covering all bases here. On the basis of the forensic evidence, Joshua Widcombe did not cut his own wrists. So either Kaya Trent did, with his permission or not—” Again, the room hummed with unspoken thoughts. “Or someone else did it for him, again with his permission or not.”

  There was another moment’s silence. Then Fliss raised a hand. “So, where do we go from here, sir?”

  Her use of the word ‘sir’ broke the tension. All the other members of Anderton’s team had pretty much given up the use of any formal terms of address, but Felicity Durrant was still new enough to think it important.

  “Start digging,” said Anderton. “That’s what I want you to do. Start to dig. I want Joshua’s and Kaya’s parents interviewed as a matter of priority. Their siblings, their friends, their teachers. They met at a drama class, apparently, so I’d imagine their drama teacher is a good place to start. Fliss, you’ve already met him, so why not take that on? Kate, go with her and see what you can find out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Fliss said keenly, and Kate muttered something similar in response. Kate wondered what Fliss was thinking. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly with each other, but they’d never really worked together, side by side, before. Kate always preferred working with the male members of the team. She wasn’t sure why, but squaring that preference with her ardent feminism sometimes made for uncomfortable self-analysis.

  The meeting broke up after that. Kate automatically looked up towards Olbeck’s office, as she went back to her desk, before realising that, of course, he was on his honeymoon. He and Jeff had gone to Africa on safari, and Kate remembered turning a pale shade of green when he’d told her. She’d love to do that. One day, Kate, one day, she told herself. As she gathered together her things and arranged to meet with Fliss at
her car in five minutes’ time, she was thinking about marriage. How did other people manage it? She thought of her oldest friend, Hannah, who had married quite young and was still, as far as Kate could tell, happily married. And look at Jay and Laura – Kate’s brother and his fiancée. Jay was nine years younger than Kate but somehow he’d managed to find his soul mate and hang onto her. Their wedding was coming up in September of this year, and of course Kate was happy for them – she was very happy for them – but... But...

  She let the thought drift away as she walked out of the room, but was stopped in her path by Theo, waving a hand to her from across the office.

  “What’s up?” asked Kate, walking over.

  Theo looked rather sheepish. “Just wanted to say sorry for being such a dick on Saturday night.”

  “Oh, that’s all right,” said Kate. “It’s not like you murdered anyone. I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.”

  “Well, yeah, but – me being a complete arsehole was probably the last thing you needed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Theo looked down at the table. “Oh, you know – what with your mum and all—“

  Kate could feel it, the ice settling through her at the mention of the word. It was an automatic reaction, as if on hearing that word she turned to stone.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, hating the chill in her tone but unable to stop it.

  Theo looked as if the next words were being dragged out of him. “It you ever want to talk, you know, have a beer or something, you know you can—”

  “I’m fine,” Kate said shortly, cutting him off. She said goodbye curtly and marched from the room.

  As the senior officer, they took Kate’s car. Fliss settled herself rather nervously into the passenger seat. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

  “So, tell me about what your impressions are,” said Kate, eventually, if only to break the silence.

  “My impressions?”

  Kate flicked a glance at her companion. “Yes. What do you think about the case? What were your first impressions when you got to the scene?”

  Fliss was twirling a strand of brown hair between her fingers. She stared out of the windscreen, clearly thinking back. “Genuinely? It was weird. I was quite freaked out, to be honest.” Kate must have given her a sceptical glance because she looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s just that – it was the way they were lying. It was almost like a – like someone had posed them there, for effect. Perhaps it was because they were on a stage.” Fliss fell silent for a moment and then said, “I know that doesn’t sound very professional.”

  “Well, I did ask you what you thought,” said Kate. She glanced at the satellite navigation system, more through habit than for guidance. Even though she hadn’t been to the college since Jay had graduated, several years before, the route was coming back to her automatically. “Anything else?”

  Fliss was silent again, twirling her hair. Then she said slowly. “There was one more thing.”

  “Yes?” prompted Kate.

  “It’s probably nothing. But – you know it looks as though they’re holding hands?”

  “Yes,” said Kate, trying to remember the crime scene photographs.

  “Well, they’re weren’t, not really. Kaya Trent was holding onto Joshua’s hand, his wrist actually.”

  “Hmmm.” Kate tucked that thought away for a later, more leisurely, perusal. “Good observation there, Fliss.”

  The other woman smiled, clearly pleased. By now, they had reached the turning for the college. The road wound through woodlands, the forest floor misted over with bluebells, the sunlight filtering through the tree branches and striking the ground in dappled spears of light. After a few minutes’ drive, the woods thinned and the grounds of the college and the main building itself came into view.

  Kate parked in the clearly marked ‘Visitors’ space and she and Fliss made their way to the school office. It was helpful to know her way around, even a little, Kate thought; it meant more of her mind could be taken up with questions to ask, rather than trying to remember directions.

  The principal of the college, Doctor Hindmarsh, was a handsome woman in late middle-age, her greying dark hair cut in an Eton crop, a pair of thick black-framed spectacles magnifying her brown eyes. She shook hands with both officers and ushered them into her office. Kate observed her closely as she courteously refused Doctor Hindmarsh’s offer of refreshments. There was anxiety in her face, perhaps even a trace of shock still remaining. Well, that was understandable, thought Kate.

  “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what a terrible shock to us all this has been,” said Doctor Hindmarsh, confirming Kate’s thoughts. The principal sat down at her desk and then leant forward, folding her hands together. She wore dark red nail polish on her short nails and a simple, plain gold wedding ring on her left hand. “I don’t think I’ve known of such a shocking thing in my life and I’ve worked in education for over thirty years. I simply couldn’t believe it, when I was informed.”

  “Yes, I can imagine,” Kate said sympathetically. “I understand that you met my colleague, DC Durrant, here, on the day the bodies were discovered.” She noted the principal’s flinch at the mention of ‘bodies’. “Forgive me, I know this must be terribly distressing for you.” Doctor Hindmarsh nodded slightly, her mouth pulled in tight. “Can I just confirm that it was the groundskeeper that reported it? To the police and to yourself?”

  Doctor Hindmarsh shook her head. “John Dawson – he’s the caretaker here, the groundskeeper, as you say – John reported it to the police. It was our head of drama, Zac Downey, who called me. He always gets to work early, and he found John at the theatre and realised what had happened.”

  Kate nodded. “Zac Downey – is he Joshua and Kaya’s drama teacher?”

  “Yes, he’s taught both of them—” Doctor Hindmarsh stumbled over her tenses, as was so common after a sudden death. “I mean he taught both of them, but they would have had classes with some of the other drama staff as well.”

  “We’ll need to talk to all of Kaya and Joshua’s teachers, I’m afraid,” said Kate. “Not all today, of course. Would you be able to give us a list of their names and where we can contact them?”

  Doctor Hindmarsh nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “We’ll also need to talk to their friends as well,” Kate went on. “We’ll be able to get some names and details from their parents, but you might be able to help us with that as well.”

  Doctor Hindmarsh nodded again but kept silent. Her red-nailed hands fidgeted with the many pieces of paper littering the surface of her large desk.

  “Could you tell me something about Joshua and Kaya?” asked Kate. “What were your impressions of them? Did you imagine that they would ever do something like this?”

  Doctor Hindmarsh dropped her gaze to her restless hands, which stilled. Kate saw her magnified eyelids blink behind the glass of her lenses. “I had no idea at all,” she said in a low voice. “I was shocked. I know that teenagers can be emotional and volatile – God knows I know that – but to do something like this – no, I never saw that coming.”

  “Did you know the two of them well?”

  “Not particularly well, I must confess. Kaya Trent was a talented actress, quite a dominant sort of personality. The kind of person that is perhaps a little too dramatic for their own good. But there – many teenage girls are like that and it doesn’t do any harm.”

  “And Joshua Widcombe?”

  “He was quieter. Quite a studious sort of boy, quite ambitious. I think he wanted to be a doctor. They were a couple, you know.” She looked up at Kate. “I’m assuming you know that?” Kate nodded. “Well, they both played the leads in last year’s summer play, Romeo and Juliet, and they’ve been – they were together ever since.”

  “And was it a happy relationship?” asked Kate.

  “That, I’m afraid, I couldn’t tell you,” said the principal. “I’m sure their friends would be able to gi
ve you more of an insight. Kaya’s best friend was Susie Andrews, and I think Joshua’s was Peter Knight.”

  Kate could see Fliss scribbling down the information. She thanked Doctor Hindmarsh for her time and for the help she’d given them.

  “That’s quite all right, Detective,” said the principal. Kate and Fliss made shifting movements preparatory to getting up. The other woman remained seated on her side of the desk, her hands pleating together.

  Kate looked at her sharply. There was something else - a question hung in the air.

  Doctor Hindmarsh cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but could you - I’m slightly confused... I understood that Kaya and Joshua’s deaths were – were suicide?”

  Kate said nothing but raised her eyebrows slightly at the implied question. She could feel Fliss shift slightly in her seat next to her and thought don’t say anything, Fliss. Just keep quiet.

  Doctor Hindmarsh stumbled on. “I’m just wondering why there seems to be such a thorough investigation into these deaths. Is there something - I mean, is there something—”

  Kate cut her off as politely as possible. “We’re merely following up several lines of enquiry, Doctor Hindmarsh,” she said, offering the usual smooth response that gave precisely nothing away. “We’ll keep you informed every step of the way.”

  The other woman nodded, in what was clearly some confusion. Kate stood up to go, Fliss following, and then she remembered something.

  “About the other students – obviously this is a really painful and distressing experience for them,” Kate said. “Have you got any procedures in place to deal with any emotional trauma, that sort of thing?”

  Doctor Hindmarsh stood up, nodding rather more firmly. “Oh yes, we’ve made plenty of arrangements. We have an on-site counsellor anyway, but we’ve arranged for individual counselling sessions for any student who feels they might need that. We’ll have plenty of group meetings and assemblies, to make sure that any questions and problems are being addressed.”