The Kate Redman Mysteries Volume 4 (Pulse, Fury, Scimitar): The Kate Redman Mysteries

By Celina Grace

This is the boxed set of books 10, 11 and 12 in The Kate Redman Mysteries series, by USA Today bestselling author Celina Grace.

PULSE (A KATE REDMAN MYSTERY: BOOK 10)

The body of a young man is found in a graveyard the night after a wild, drug-fuelled party. At first glance, there doesn't appear to be anything sinister about his death, despite the shock of Detective Inspector Mark Olbeck realising that he once knew him.

Detective Sergeant Kate Redman has other things to worry about, not least her ongoing affair with her superior officer Chief Inspector Anderton. But when a second body is found in suspiciously similar circumstances, Kate, Olbeck and the rest of the Abbeyford police team realise they are up against a devious killer who will stop at nothing to indulge a literal thirst for blood…

FURY (A KATE REDMAN MYSTERY: BOOK 11)

Roland Barry was a respectable, retired academic, beloved of his colleagues and friends. So why did he die so savagely, killed in a frenzied attack?

The latest case for the newly qualified Detective Inspector Kate Redman is a puzzle. So is the next murder case the Abbeyford police team deal with, given the victim is a much younger woman. But, as Kate and her colleagues begin to dig deeper into the evidence, a strange link between the two crimes become apparent. What is the real connection between the two murder victims…and will there be any more?

SCIMITAR (A KATE REDMAN MYSTERY: BOOK 12)

A terrorist atrocity rips through London the day before the body of a young Asian man is found in the grounds of a stately home, near the West Country town of Abbeyford. DI Kate Redman and her team take on the case, but are hampered by a lack of identification on the body, not to mention the odd location of the crime scene.

Eventually, they identify the young man as a certain Ibrahim Bashir, but this only leads to more confusion – because it seems that Ibrahim Bashir died fifty years ago…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Isaro Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Mar 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393057116

Book preview

Pulse

A Kate Redman Mystery: Book 10

Celina Grace

This book is dedicated to my family and friends, who have helped me more than they will ever know. Thank you.

Prologue

Joe could feel the music inside him, like a second heartbeat. He leant against the damp wall of the hallway in the house, feeling the thud of the speakers all the way through him, reverberating up from the wooden floorboards, pulsing against his spine as the beat came up through the walls. If he had been in a normal frame of mind – if he had been sober – he might have spared a thought for the neighbours; how they would be hating the noise and the shouts and the mess that was gradually accumulating. But he was very much not sober. He’d drunk wine, and cider, and vodka – so far – this evening. The only reason he wasn’t staggering was the equal quantities of amphetamines he’d also ingested were acting as some sort of balance. Joe shook his head, blinking. The beat from the speakers in the living room thudded through his head.

He needed some fresh air. The party had reached that bleary stage. Those who had found someone were already occupied, and those who hadn’t were starting to get that look; desperate but not yet desperate enough to leave. There was still hope. Some more drugs, some more booze, and who knew what might happen?

Joe stumbled along the hallway, heading for the kitchen. He’d been to this house just once before, when a boyfriend had invited him along to another party. Memories of that party were what had drawn him back this time, despite that little voice in his head that told him he was too old for this scene anymore. He was too old for the hungry young crowd that flocked here after the nearest gay club closed. Joe caught sight of himself in an uncurtained window as he went past it and flinched. His face, a ghostly grey against the blackness of the night outside the window, looked far older than his forty years. I’m forty, he thought incredulously, as he lurched through the kitchen, too bright after the dimness of the hallway. Forty. How had that happened? He remembered his twenty-year-old self, going up to London, starting at drama school. I was supposed to be famous by now. He fumbled at the handle of the back door. Two men – boys, really, they couldn’t be more than nineteen or so – looked up from the kitchen table where they were industriously hoovering up lines of cocaine. Joe thought briefly for a moment of asking to join them and then thought better of it. He thought he could see a faint flicker of disgust in their faces as they watched him try to get the back door open. He was starting to feel very sick.

Eventually the door yielded and Joe almost fell outside, stumbling down the two brick steps to the patio that made up the majority of the back garden. Whose house was this, anyway? The boyfriend who had invited Joe here once before was long gone by now. He’d only been a flash in the pan, anyway. That was all that Joe seemed to get, nowadays. Nobody wanted him for anything more than a one-nighter. Almost weeping with self-pity, he staggered towards the bushes at the back of the garden and vomited, bending over from the waist and almost falling before putting one hand out to stop himself.

Steady, said a voice behind him and then a hand was on his arm, making sure he was stable again.

Joe choked and spat, aware that his legs were trembling beneath him. What am I doing here? What am I hoping for? He kept his head down for a moment, wiping the tears from his face with shaking fingers.

You all right? The voice was a man’s – there were no women here – and it was a nice voice, deep and calm.

Joe said nothing for a moment, gathering himself. He felt physically better after vomiting, but inside there was still that awful sense of bleak emptiness, the feeling that life was just slipping on by, leaving him flailing in its wake.

I’m okay, he said after a moment, his voice hoarse.

By now he had straightened up and for the first time he saw his companion. A man of about his own age, quite tall and broad-shouldered, but not good-looking. Joe took in the pockmarked skin of the cheeks and the dirty blonde hair with a little twinge of disappointment, but after a moment, he realised the man was smiling at him and that made him a little more attractive.

Had a bit too much? asked the man, his tone sympathetic.

Joe nodded, starting to smile himself. Okay, so the guy wasn’t hot, but he wasn’t that bad, either. Perhaps this could be the start of something… Beggars can’t be choosers, he told himself gloomily.

Always, he said, trying for the cheeky grin that always used to work.

Perhaps something of it still remained. The other man eyed him for a moment, the sympathy in his gaze ebbing and something more speculative replacing it. You here on your own?

Yeah, said Joe. All dressed up and nowhere to go.

The man smiled. I’ve got somewhere we can go.

All right… Joe was conscious of a twinge of excitement as the man led him out of scrubby little garden and through a gap in the fence at the bottom of the courtyard. It was overgrown with brambles and uncut shrubbery and Joe cursed as a thorn caught him on the arm. He was wearing a T-shirt and only then became aware of the chill of the night air as it enclosed him, chilling the sweat on his face.

Where we going? he asked.

Just through here. You’ll like it.

The guy’s voice had changed. Before, it had been one of the more attractive things about him, soft and deep. Now, it was thinning, becoming higher. With excitement? Joe, despite all the booze and drugs and general despair, felt a pull in his groin. Who cared what the guy looked like in the dark, after all? An ancient saying came into his mind. In the dark, all cats are grey.

Faint memories came back to him; of being on the heath in Wallington with some guy and they’d just been getting down to it when the police moved in. He’d never been sure, even now, as to whether he’d been set up or not. Surely the police, even back then – how many years ago was it? – weren’t that bothered about busting queers in the parkland? That was how he’d met an old boyfriend of his, actually a copper, one of the ones who’d been kind to him at the station. Joe had gone back in a few days later to thank him and apologise, and something had sparked between them. Joe hadn’t thought of him in years, really. Funny, really, considering how devastated he’d been when they’d broken up. Mark. Wonder what he’s up to now, Joe thought and then forgot him again.

He pushed aside the last branch and stumbled out into open ground. He stopped dead, staring blearily about him. What the hell was this? As if on cue, the moonlight flooded the scene before it, glimmering off the old stones and ragged grass, the shadow shapes of the gravestones mere black and white boxes.

This a graveyard? he asked the night air, because for a moment, the guy he’d been following had disappeared. Stupid question. Of course it was a graveyard. Distantly, through the darkness, Joe could see the misty shape of the church, its bell tower faintly outlined against the star-spangled night sky.

He shivered, again conscious of the cold night breeze. A little spark of sobriety seemed to ignite inside him, and he thought to himself, What I am doing here? Why don’t I just go home?

Before he could act on the impulse, he saw the guy up ahead, fumbling with something on the ground that was hidden from view by a gravestone. Unsure of what to do, half wanting to stay, half wanting to go, Joe shifted from foot to foot, watching the other man walk back towards him. He had something in his hand, something like a glass or a cup. Joe blinked.

Here, drink this. The voice of the other man was deep again, commanding. Joe obediently reached out a hand, giving up any thought of leaving. He felt oddly dreamlike, as if he were watching himself from afar.

The glass – it was a glass, something more like a goblet – was black, the rim of its bowl encrusted with something that sparkled dully in the moonlight. Jo could hear the faint fizz of the contents and was again aware of the silence that surrounded them. Even the thud of the music from the house seemed muted.

What is it? he asked, not much caring. He was beginning to feel the need for another drink, another stimulant. Either that or he was going to sink down here onto the wet grass and go to sleep for the night.

Champagne.

That raised Joe’s eyebrows. Not saying anything, he lifted the goblet and drank deeply, swilling the contents down in three large gulps. Nice, he gasped. It was a lie; it tasted grim, but it was alcohol.

Have some more.

There was the tinkle of a bottle on the edge of the goblet. Joe watched as the man filled it up again from what looked like a hip flask.

Why don’t you come over here? suggested his companion, leading him further into the graveyard, deeper into the shadows. The distant bass of the music receded even further. Joe stumbled and fell to his knees, the glass goblet flying from his hand to land, intact, in the damp grass.

Whoops, he said, slurring. His mouth was beginning to feel strange, as if it had been coated with a fine layer of anaesthetic gel. It was difficult to form the word. His whole body seemed to be slowing down. Joe, helpless, fell forward, feeling the tickle of wet grass on his face.

He felt so peaceful that he could have lain there quite happily, but he could – just about – feel a pressure on his shoulder and a moment later, his body was rolled over so that he was lying on his back. Joe stared upwards at the night sky. The stars twinkled, remote and beautiful.

Joe was dimly aware of the face of the man moving into his line of sight and of the hungry, intent stare the man was giving him. But he felt too tired, too damn sleepy, to be alarmed, even at the sight of the knife and, a moment later, a flash of pain in his neck and the sense of warmth against the cold skin of his throat. The man’s head disappeared from Joe’s view and, a moment later, he could feel the brush of something at his jawline, a mouth on his neck, perhaps, but he was long past being able to do anything about it. It was too late. Perhaps it had always been too late. All Joe could do was stare up at the darkening sky above him, watching the faint white glimmer of the stars wink out, one by one.

Chapter One

It was a grim, grey morning. Clouds massed overhead in an ominous way, but Kate Redman didn’t care. She felt bathed in sunlight, basking in warmth. She lay in the crook of Anderton’s arm, watching the first spots of rain hit the window with an enormous feeling of contentment.

What do you say to lunch somewhere today? Anderton asked, his own voice flattening into a sleepy mumble. They’d just made love for the second time since waking up that morning.

Sounds great, said Kate, her eyes slipping closed. She could feel herself drifting off now, the patter of rain as it hit the roof tiles outside lulling her like a lullaby.

Anderton muttered something unintelligible but she hardly heard him. Instead, her slow slide into blissful unconsciousness was rudely interrupted by the ringing of a mobile phone. Two mobile phones. Kate and Anderton groaned in unison.

"Go away," muttered Kate. Anderton’s response was somewhat ruder. Kate sat up and reached for her phone, seeing Theo’s name displayed on the screen. She was just about to answer when she heard Anderton start speaking into his own phone, just a foot away and suddenly realised that Theo would be able to hear him if she answered her call. Quickly she hurried from the bedroom and headed for the little bathroom down the corridor. By the time she’d closed the bathroom door behind her, Theo had rung off.

Kate groaned. Should she call him back? She knew, instinctively, that Anderton’s call would be about the same thing. Pondering, she headed back to the bedroom, padding down the corridor quite unselfconsciously naked.

Anderton had finished his call by the time she got back. Was that Theo?

Yes. I didn’t get a chance to speak to him though. What’s up?

Anderton swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his dressing gown. Body found in a graveyard, over the far side of Abbeyford. No doubt that’s what young Theo was calling you about too.

That’s what I thought. Kate paused, wondering whether to add what she was thinking. Rather awkwardly, she added That’s why I thought I’d better take it elsewhere. You know, in case he heard you in the background and – and wondered—

Eh? Anderton was belting his robe closed and looked as though he hadn’t heard her. What’s that? Oh, right, yes, good idea. Anyway, in the same vein, we’d better head in but separately, okay? Kate nodded, suddenly self-conscious that she was unclothed and he wasn’t. Do you want to jump in the shower first?

No, you go ahead. Kate knew it wasn’t worth suggesting they have one together. She could see Anderton had snapped straight into work mode – all he was thinking about was getting to the crime scene. So you should too, Kate. I’ll wait and phone Theo back.

Great. He gave her a kiss as he went past but it was hurried and perfunctory. Hopefully it won’t be one for us and we can still grab that lunch. Were you even supposed to be going into the office today?

No, sighed Kate. But never mind.

She waited until Anderton had left the room and then pressed the redial icon on her phone to call Theo. When the line connected, she could hear from the background noise that he was answering her on his car’s speaker system.

Kate, mate. Where are you?

As if she could tell him that. I’m at home, Kate said, crossing her fingers as she lied.

Right, right, sorry mate, I know it’s your day off and that but we’ve got a potential new case, and Mark’s delayed. I could do with you here.

A body? Kate asked, just stopping herself from mentioning the graveyard.

Yeah, body of a young male found in a graveyard. Could very well be non-suspicious, in fact it probably is but – well, I dunno – there’s a few weird things about it, apparently, according to uniform. Can you get over here?

Kate tried to keep the sigh out of her voice. Yes. Whereabouts are you?

Theo gave the details. Kate realised that it would be a longer drive than normal as she was at Anderton’s cottage out in the depths of the countryside. She wondered whether to fudge a bit – to tell Theo that her car was being a bit unreliable and she wasn’t sure how long it was going to take her, something like that – but decided not to. There was a limit to the amount of lies she was willing to tell that early in the morning.

I’ll get there when I can, was what she eventually said.

Cool, mate. See you soon then.

Kate had said goodbye and hung up when she remembered what he’d said about Mark –DI Olbeck – being delayed. She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to ring Olbeck but decided against it. She’d probably have to end up fibbing over something again and Olbeck, one of her closest friends, was someone she really didn’t want to have to lie too. Any more than you are already, Kate. You know, lying by omission and all that?

Kate set her teeth and swatted the thought away. By now, Anderton had come back from the shower and was getting dressed. Kate went to perform her own ablutions. She tried to get herself into a more professional state of mind, thinking about the case and what might have happened, but she had so little to go on it was difficult. Her mind kept returning back to a far more absorbing subject – that of her new relationship with DCI Anderton.

Your boss, said that nasty little voice that kept piping up occasionally, despite many years of therapy. You’re sleeping with your boss.

Kate mentally batted it away as she showered. Okay, so she was sleeping with her boss, but it wasn’t just sex. Was it? She didn’t think so – she didn’t want to think so – but perhaps it was still too early to say. It had only been a matter of weeks. Eight weeks. Kate squeezed water from her hair, trying to twitch her thoughts onto another track without much success. Much as she was having fun and enjoying what they had – and God, she was enjoying it – there was still the big question over what it was. Was it a relationship? Was it going to last? When were they going to tell people that they were a couple? Were they a couple?

Kate realised she was gritting her teeth. With a monumental effort, she thrust all of the conflicting thoughts away and wrenched the shower off.

Kate? I’m off. I’ll see you there. Anderton came into the bathroom just as she was towelling herself off. He made a lustful noise. God, I wish we could be a bit late and I could take you back to bed again.

Kate smiled. We’ll take a rain check.

That’s for sure. Know where you’re going? Kate nodded. Let yourself out, you know, just pull the door shut behind you. Anderton kissed her again, more lingeringly this time. See you shortly.

Bye. Kate watched him leave the room and then turned her attention to the mirror, thrusting aside the thought that she hadn’t been given a key to his house. Well, of course she hadn’t, they’d only been seeing each other a few months. Oh, stop thinking, Kate, start concentrating on work. She made a determined effort to do just that and began to delve into her make-up bag. She wished Theo had given her a little bit more to go on – at least then she’d have something more concrete to occupy her thoughts. The body of a young man found in a graveyard. Kate knew it was pointless speculating, especially before even getting to the scene, but it was a welcome change of focus for her thoughts. A natural death? Unlikely in a young man but not unheard of. A drug overdose? Had he passed out in the graveyard and died of exposure? It had been cold last night for late September, autumn beginning to make its presence felt. Kate moved back to the bedroom and dried her hair with the little portable hairdryer she’d brought with her in her overnight bag. Anderton, of course, didn’t possess one.

She sat down on the rumpled bed to put on her shoes. What else had Theo said? There’s a few weird things about it apparently… What did that mean? Kate did up the last buckle, her mind straying into the fantastical. Weird things – the body had been found in a graveyard. Black magic? Was that what Theo meant? Grave robbing? Kate grimaced and then decided that Theo would have mentioned something that outlandish outright.

She did a quick check of the bedroom, making sure she’d picked up everything essential. Handbag, phone, jacket… Should she make the bed? She instinctively wanted to – Kate liked things to be neat and tidy – but would Anderton consider it an imposition? Or would he appreciate it? Kate compromised after a moment by pulling the sheets back to air the mattress and plumping up the flattened pillows. Would this be her bedroom as well, one day? Don’t worry about that now, woman. She gave herself a mental shake and marched from the bedroom, determined now to only think about the crime scene – potential crime scene – that she was about to investigate.

Chapter Two

The graveyard was an old one. Kate could see that, even at first glance, as she came in through the lych gate at the front and followed the gently winding path up a slope, past the church itself. She let the path take her deep into the rows of gravestones. She could hear the activity before she saw it, as a thick hedge of hazel screened whatever was happening from view. There was a gap in the hedge and Kate moved through it to another part of the graveyard, a newer section where the headstones were noticeably less aged, and the dates reflected the late twentieth and early twenty-first century rather than any earlier.

The Scene of Crime Officers were already well established, a white tent hiding the body from public view. Just as well, thought Kate, as a helicopter batted its blades overhead. There hadn’t been any press at the main entrance to the church but it surely couldn’t be long before they arrived.

As Kate walked towards the tent, the entrance flap moved to allow the sight of Anderton ducking out into the open air, closely followed by Theo. Kate, unable to help smiling, thought that she really must learn to perfect more of a poker face if she and her boss were going to keep their liaison secret for a while. As it was, Theo looked rather startled at the delight on her face.

Nice to see you too, Kate, said Theo, grinning. It’s been a while. A whole twelve hours, at least.

Quickly, Kate adjusted her face. I’m always happy to see your handsome face, Theo, you know that. She didn’t dare look at Anderton.

Aren’t they all, mate? Aren’t they all? Anderton cleared his throat and Theo quickly dropped his bantering tone. Anyway, you coming in?

They all moved back into the tent, one by one. It was already quite stuffy under the plastic, although the grass under their feet was still wet with dew. Kate braced herself for the sight of the body. She knew, for some officers, the sight of a dead body became unremarkable, commonplace, even, but for her it was still a moment of awe and – to be honest – dread. She took a deep breath and looked.

She knew immediately what Theo had meant by ‘weird things’. The young man’s body was milk-pale – what skin she could see, as he was still fully clothed – so pale as to almost reflect the colour of the white forensic tent that hung above him. His eyes were closed, his face slack and without expression. He lay on his back, his arms folded across his chest.

He was found like that? she asked the two men, for some reason almost whispering.

Yeah. Theo’s tone was almost as quiet. The church warden found him like that. Didn’t touch him, apparently, said he could see he was dead straight away. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? Look at him, you can almost see through him.

Uncharacteristically, Kate had to repress a shiver. There was something unearthly about the body; its pallor, the way it was lying. Kate had the fanciful thought that it wasn’t actually a person at all but a marble statue, fallen from a gravestone and for some reason dressed in human clothes.

Anderton had come closer. There’s no sign of violence that I can see. The doc will have a better idea. No obvious drug paraphernalia. No suicide note that we’ve found.

Kate had already swept the area around the body with her gaze, looking for syringes, tourniquets, plastic bags. There was nothing. Do we know who he is, yet?

Anderton shook his head. Once the pathologist gets here we can have a look in his pockets.

Kate looked again at the body. The man looked young – well, youngish, thirty-something, she guessed, but it was difficult to tell sometimes after death as the muscles of the face relaxed and softened. His head had fallen a little to one side. His dark hair was stiffened into spikes by sweat, or perhaps the drying dew, and his lips were bluish.

Have we started a house-to-house yet? she asked Theo.

Yeah, the uniforms are beginning that now. They’ve already told us there were complaints last night about a party, in a house back there. Theo gestured at the back wall of the tent. Apparently, there’ve been a few over the past few months, and the neighbours are getting a bit pissed off with it.

Right. Kate was about to ask another question when she heard the swish of the tent entrance flap behind them and turned to see the pathologist, Doctor Gatkiss, walk through, closely followed by another white-suited figure she didn’t recognise.

Good morning, everyone, Ivor Gatkiss said in his usual rather shy manner. The young man with him didn’t speak but smiled a little uncertainly. Doctor Gatkiss gestured towards him. I must introduce Joshua Garton, who’s with us for the next month on a training placement.

All the police officers murmured a variety of polite greetings. Joshua Garton still didn’t say anything but nodded and smiled. He was very young, or seemed so to Kate – perhaps mid-twenties? As a medical student, he could have been even younger. Good looking, thought Kate, noting his dark brown eyes, high cheekbones and black hair. Then she stood back to let the young man and Dr. Gatkiss pass through to begin their work.

The officers moved outside to free up some space inside the tent. Kate raised her face gratefully to the sky. The rain and grey clouds of the early morning had blown away and the sun was beginning to make its presence felt. The gradually strengthening rays felt especially good after the muggy, fetid air of the forensic tent.

Where the hell is Mark? said Anderton, checking his phone once more. It’s not like him to be late.

Got snarled up in traffic, said Theo. Those roadworks on the Bristol road are a right bastard.

Maybe. Anderton didn’t look convinced. Has he texted you, Kate?

Kate checked her own phone. No.

Oh well, we’ll just have to—Anderton began, and then they all saw DI Mark Olbeck making his way towards them through the gravestones, looking rather flushed and annoyed.

Sorry, sorry, got caught up, he said as he got closer.

Told you, commented Theo.

Never mind, you’re here now. Kate, would you take him through and show him what’s what? Anderton gestured towards the tent. Now, Theo, you and I will make a start on the statements—

Kate pulled her gaze from his back as Anderton and Theo retreated, their voices receding as they walked further away. She realised Olbeck was already striding towards the tent and hurried to catch him up.

You all right? she asked, as they ducked through the entrance. Olbeck had a tightly-wound air about him that, knowing him as she had done for so long, meant that he’d recently gone through a rather stressful experience. Was the traffic that bad?

Olbeck shook his head impatiently. Doesn’t matter, he said shortly. Now, where’s this body?

Over here. They squeezed between milling SOCOs over to where the figures of Gatkiss and his young assistant were crouched down. Now, what—

As she spoke, Doctor Gatkiss moved aside, giving both Kate and Olbeck a view of the young man’s face. Whatever Kate had been going to say was lost in the audible gasp that escaped Olbeck, and he stopped walking so abruptly that Kate cannoned into the back of him.

Oh my god. Olbeck’s hand covered his mouth, and he stared intently at the body. "Oh, my god."

Mark, what—

Before Kate could say another word, Olbeck wheeled around and began walking very fast towards the entrance to the tent, blundering heedlessly through the crowd. Kate stared after him for a moment, open-mouthed. She turned back to look at the body again, wondering if there had been something she’d not spotted that could have caused Olbeck’s reaction. But it was the same as it had been, that drained, unearthly face, the two doctors slowly working their way around it. It didn’t look as though either of them had noticed Olbeck’s abrupt departure. Biting her lip, Kate made her own way to the tent entrance and ducked outside.

She couldn’t see Olbeck for a moment and then spotted him. He was some twenty yards away, by a large monument topped by a crumbling stone angel. Olbeck leant against the side of the tomb, his head in his hands. By now thoroughly alarmed, Kate hastened over to him.

Mark, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?

Olbeck raised his head from his hands. Kate was shocked to see how pale he was.

It’s— for a moment, his voice cracked and he cleared his throat and tried again. It’s – it’s Joe.

Joe? Kate thought for a second he’d gone mad. Who the hell was Joe? Then she remembered – of course she did. Joe was an old boyfriend of Olbeck’s, the one he’d had when she first arrived at Abbeyford. The breakdown of their relationship had been a painful one, despite the fact that Olbeck had instigated it. Kate remembered his behaviour after they’d split up, all through that Elodie Duncan case. Hadn’t it been then, after the case was finished, that Olbeck had met Jeff? It was a long time ago now, years gone by. But still, she could see why Olbeck was upset.

Oh – oh, Mark. God, I’m sorry. She gave him a hug, and he clutched at her, shivering. My god, what a shock. Are you sure it’s him?

Of course I’m sure!

She knew it was shock and grief that made him lash out in that tone but she still flinched. Okay, sorry. I’m really sorry, Mark.

He put her arms away from him, gently. I know. Sorry I snapped.

That’s okay—

I was just – I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen him for years, but I recognised him straight away. What could have happened? He didn’t wait for an answer but raised his hands to his face, scrubbing at it as if he were washing himself. Oh, God, I can’t believe it. Joe, of all people.

Kate stood back a little, letting him collect himself. Do you think you should go home?

No. Olbeck shook his head emphatically. I’m just getting myself together, I’ll be fine. It was just the shock.

All right. Try as she might, Kate couldn’t keep the anxiety from her tone. She had a sudden, brilliant flash of memory – the Elodie Duncan case again, how Kate had recognised the body of the girl as someone she knew, if only marginally. She could still recall the shock of it, the almost hallucinatory quality of finding the body at the scene. How much worse would it be to see the body of someone you had once loved and lived with?

Olbeck dropped his hands to his sides and drew a deep shaky breath. Okay. I’m okay, now.

Sure? Kate wasn’t convinced.

I’m fine. Olbeck looked around him. Where are the others?

Kate glanced around. Theo and Anderton had disappeared. She sighed. Come on, we’d best go and find them. You’ll have to tell Anderton what you’ve just told me.

I know.

They began walking back towards the entrance to the churchyard. As they came through the gap in the hazel hedge, the growing crowd of journalists and photographers could be seen at the lych gate, being held back by a couple of uniformed officers.

Olbeck stopped walking. Kate—

Kate looked quickly at him, alarmed by his tone. She was not reassured by the sight of her friend. He looked almost greenish.

Here, come over here. She drew him back along the path so they were out of sight of the lych gate. Here, sit down here. She pressed him down onto a convenient bench and forced his head downwards. Come on, head down for a moment. Deep breaths.

I’m fine, Olbeck mumbled from his downward position but he stayed where he was. Kate sat down beside him, rubbing his shoulder. With a leap of gladness, she saw Anderton and Theo coming towards them from another path that clearly led from the back of the church.

Mark, at last—Anderton began but stopped short. What the hell’s the matter?

Kate opened her mouth to tell him and shut it again. This was Olbeck’s issue.

Olbeck raised his face and explained in several short, halting sentences. Theo and Kate exchanged silent, agonised glances but didn’t say anything.

Right, Anderton said, when Olbeck had finished speaking. I’m very sorry to hear that, Mark. It must have been a hell of a shock. Olbeck nodded painfully. Well, the best thing you can do is head off, I think. No— His tone changed into something almost of a warning as Olbeck went to protest. You’ll be more help to me back at the station. Or go home, if you like. Just for the day. You’ve had a shock.

I’m not going home, Olbeck said, and there was something in his tone that made Kate look at him sharply. I’m fine, honestly.

That’s as may be. But until we find out more about what’s actually happened, I’d be happier with you off the case. Just for now.

Olbeck went to protest again and obviously thought better of it. He stood up, a little hesitantly. All right. I’ll go back to the office.

Good man. Anderton stood back to let him past. Olbeck walked off with a muttered goodbye.

Kate stood looking after her friend. She was shaken by his reaction. Not once had she ever seen him so affected by a crime scene, but then it was a pretty unusual set of circumstances, wasn’t it? She repressed the impulse to run after him. She had her work to do, after all.

God almighty. Once Olbeck was out of earshot, Anderton turned back to the two remaining officers with his eyebrows up. What a cluster f—

Did you and Theo get anything from the preliminary interviews? Kate asked hastily. She hated hearing her boss and her lover swear, although God knew she wasn’t averse to the odd four letter word herself. At the same time, she was pleased to hear how she herself sounded – professional but matey, same as usual. Not a hint of the fact that they were romantically involved escaping. Keep it up, Kate.

Not much, but we can debrief fully back at the station. Come on, let’s head back and see if the docs have anything concrete for us yet.

They all began to walk back towards the forensics tent. The sun was out in full now, and the graveyard looked oddly beautiful in the golden September rays; the mellow old stones crumbling with age, their hard edges and surfaces blurred and softened by lichen and moss. This late in the year, there were only the little white stars of the daisies and the odd exuberant yellow dandelion to add colour to the grass. The first reddening leaves could be seen in the hazel hedge.

Kate reached the entrance to the tent. Now that she knew who the body was, she felt an odd reluctance to see it again. Get a grip, woman, she told herself and followed Anderton’s broad back into the tent.

Chapter Three

Inside the tent was still a bustle of activity, with white-clad figures taking photographs and measurements and samples. Kate moved over to where Anderton and Theo were now talking to the pathologists.

So, nothing definite? Anderton said as she came up to the group.

Ivor Gatkiss shook his head, but he was frowning. There’s one thing that’s immediately significant. He crouched again and gently tipped the head to one side. Revealed by the movement was a small wound in the side of the throat, up under the jawline. The edges of the cut gaped bloodlessly, like a tiny lipless mouth. Now, this has been made by a knife, a sharp knife. At first sight, I admit I thought that this was the cause of death, but on reflection, I’m not so sure.

No? Anderton crouched down, groaning at the creak of his knees. God, Ivor, I don’t know how you manage to do this all day. At your age.

Gatkiss smiled. "Anyway, it’s not a cut to the jugular, as I first thought. That would have been the cause of death, if that were the case. Blood loss would have been extremely rapid. But it’s actually just a shallow cut into the veins of the throat. He wouldn’t have died from it, not as far as I can see."

Hmm. Anderton looked more closely. Well, that’s a bit bloody peculiar, isn’t it? A cut to the throat that’s not fatal? Could it have been accidental?

Rather unlikely, I would have thought. It’s a clean cut and the position of the wound means it wouldn’t have been easy to do accidentally.

Kate crouched down herself. Could it have been post mortem?

Again, it’s unlikely.

Kate frowned. So you don’t think he died from blood loss, then?

I really couldn’t say with any surety, not without a post mortem. He’s lost blood, you can see that from his colour, but whether that was enough to kill him – I just can’t say.

A thought occurred to Kate. Besides, she said, staring at the crushed grass beside the corpse. "If he did die from blood loss, where is it all?"

Anderton, Theo and Gatkiss all stared at her. The student, Joshua Garton, was busy scribbling in a notebook.

That’s a good point, Anderton said slowly. Even if it was just a vein, he’d be lying in a pool of blood. Wouldn’t he?

As one, they stared at the body and at the unstained grass that surrounded it. Kate felt something she was unused to feeling in this situation – a kind of superstitious dread.

It’s not— began Theo. The strangled quality of his voice made them all look at him. "It’s not a bite mark, is it? In his neck?"

For a moment, the implication hung in the air and the stuffy interior of the tent seemed to chill and darken. Anderton shook himself, quite literally. Come on, you lot. Don’t know what’s the matter with you all, this morning.

It’s not a bite mark, said Doctor Gatkiss, in his quiet, matter-of-fact voice and that seemed to bring them all back to normality. As to the blood loss, well, I can’t say for certain why that appears to be the case, at the moment. We’ll find out more at the post mortem.

Quite, said Anderton. So let’s not start getting hysterical. As it stands, this death is unexplained and suspicious, and that’s the statement I’ll be giving to the press. He sighed and added, No doubt they’re massing at the gates as we speak. He clambered to his feet with a groan. Given that the victim appears to have a knife wound to the neck, these grounds are going to have to be searched right now, once everything’s been cleared from here. Theo, can you start organising some uniforms to get started on that?

Theo nodded. He was frowning, his black brows drawn down, and was staring fixedly at the body.

Kate raised her hand. What shall I do?

Anderton’s eyes met hers. His tone, when he answered, was utterly professional, but there was a look in his eyes that was not. Half pleased at the depth of feeling shown, half alarmed that somebody else might notice, she looked quickly away.

I’d like you to make a start of the preliminary interviews, please, Kate. Particularly the houses at the back, here. He gestured beyond the back wall of the forensics tent. Ah, great timing, here’s Rav. DC Ravinder Cheetam, Rav to his friends and colleagues, had just entered the tent. Take him with you and bring him up to speed on the way. A thought seemed to strike him. Where the hell is Chloe?

On holiday, said Kate, amused. As she has been for the past week.

Oh, yes. Forgot. Must have a lot on my mind. Their eyes met again, and Kate bit back a smile. Anyway, we’ll have to manage without her and Mark as best we can. Right, let’s reconvene back at the office and see what’s what later on. He adjusted his tie with the air of a man fortifying himself against an approaching unpleasant experience. Right, off to face the press I go. Wish me luck.

Good luck, came the subdued chorus as he walked away. Kate turned to Rav who regarded the body with a frown.

You ready?

Sure. Actually – hang on a sec. Rav bent down to Doctor Gatkiss’ level and murmured a question too low for Kate to hear. She was thinking again about Mark – poor Mark – and how he must be feeling. Would he be able to even be on this case? She was so lost in speculation that she jumped as Rav touched her arm.

Okay, let’s go. Ivor says if we get a chance we can pop back to check if there’s any developments, but otherwise he’ll see one of us at the PM tomorrow.

Great. Let’s go, then, Kate said briskly, trying to snap back into professional mode.

*

They walked along