Kim rolled her eyes when she realised what she’d said.
‘Okay, anyone strange hanging about?’
‘Hard to tell in our community but no, nothing I’m aware of, and Jamie hadn’t said anything about any weirdos or anything like that.’
‘Okay, River, thanks for your time, and if you think of anything else, give me a call,’ she said, handing him a card.
‘Cool. Can I give you a shout if I’m getting my head kicked in as well?’
She smiled. ‘How about you just keep yourself out of trouble.’
He raised his eyebrows suggestively. ‘My mom always says if you can’t be good be careful.’
Good advice, she thought as River busied himself putting the key in the door lock of the Mini. No central locking on that old girl.
‘You wouldn’t forget him in a hurry, would you?’ Bryant said as they walked away.
‘Hang on,’ Kim said, turning back. She caught River as he was about to pull away.
‘What now?’ he asked, manually winding down the window. ‘This bitch needs her beauty sleep.’
‘You said something about Jamie doing better at something. What did you mean?’
‘Oh, just that he was talking to some woman he knew from way back, somewhere up Rowley. Not sure where or who, but he’d chat with her every couple of weeks and he’d seem lighter afterwards.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
She tapped the roof to signal he could go.
Who was this woman and what did she know about Jamie?
TWENTY-ONE
‘Are you ready?’ Keats asked as Penn pulled the face mask over his mouth.
Penn nodded. He’d foregone the smear of Vicks beneath his nostrils. Breathing it in beneath the face mask would have his eyes streaming in seconds.
‘I have to say, Penn, that it is pleasurable to be sent an officer that appreciates the craft of what we do,’ Keats said as he began his cursory examination prior to wielding his scalpel. Penn knew that the pathologist inspected every part of the body before he removed even one tool from the tray.
‘And of course, the more we look, the more we find,’ Keats said, taking a good look at Jamie’s neck. He tipped the boy’s head from side to side.
Penn was constantly amazed at Keats’s bedside manner. Even while doing the most invasive acts on the body, there was a lightness to his touch, like a doctor who didn’t want to cause any more pain.
He had learned to stay in the background and not get in Keats’s way unless he spoke. That was normally permission to step forward.
‘Look at the bruising of the rope around the neck.’
‘Okay.’
‘This didn’t come from hanging.’
‘Okay,’ Penn said again, looking at the Adam’s apple.
‘Let me demonstrate,’ Keats said, grabbing a tape measure from his desk.
Penn eyed him suspiciously.
‘I’m not going to hurt you – now give me your neck.’