Definitely Dead by Kate Bendelow (howl and other poems TXT) 📕

of any injuries or scars that might be identified. Once she’d asked the questions, she waved the pair of them in.

Malone took control of the situation and politely asked Nowak to stand to allow Maya to take her first series of photographs. As she took profile shots of the man, she was further astounded by the sheer height and build of him. She was grateful for Malone’s appeasing manner as he chatted away. She prayed that Nowak would remain placated and not cause any trouble during the examination. In his presence the small room felt airless, as though the walls could swallow her up.

Fortunately, Nowak appeared to relax, or at least began to respond in a less surly manner. Malone was chatting to him about mutual acquaintances – criminals and cops – as if they were old colleagues, which in a peculiar way, thought Maya, they were. As the lengthy examination progressed, Nowak turned his attention to Maya.

‘What’s your name?’ he said as she swapped her camera lenses over.

‘Maya,’ she answered without looking up.

‘Maya what?’

She paused briefly, reluctant to tell him her surname, but not wanting to break the fragile acquiescence Malone had worked so hard to encourage, she said, ‘Barton, Maya Barton.’

‘You local, Maya?’ Nowak persisted.

‘Fairly,’ she replied non-committally, hoping he would stop asking her personal questions. She looked up and caught Malone’s eye, hoping he would interject, but he seemed oblivious to her pleading look.

‘Brothers and sisters?’ Nowak continued.

‘Nope, just me.’

‘What do your parents do?’ He wasn’t giving up on his interrogation.

‘My mum’s a typist.’ Maya didn’t want to reveal that she was a community nurse as his next question would inevitably be ‘which surgery’. Maya had worked as a typist for a law firm for eighteen months before she started working at the car dealers and knew from experience that if you told someone you were a typist, they rarely probed further.

‘What about your dad?’

‘Dead,’ Maya said with a finality that appeared to bring Malone to his senses.

‘How’s your brother doing these days, Piotr? I’ve not had any dealings with him in years. Is he keeping well?’

Her feeling of relief over the sudden change of subject was palpable.

‘He’s been straight for years.’ Nowak’s face contorted with disgust. ‘He met a girl who completely pussy-whipped him and he moved to Yorkshire with her. Can’t remember the last time I spoke to him, the wanker.’

Distracted by talk of his brother and reminiscing about the scrapes the two siblings had got into when they were younger, Nowak dismissed Maya from any further attention. The rest of the examination proceeded without incident and she was relieved when it was all over. A steady trickle of sweat was snaking between her shoulder blades. It wasn’t just due to the temperature, but more the tension of being in the presence of someone so menacing.

Maya nodded towards the nurse and turned to Nowak as she was about to leave. ‘Thanks for your time,’ she spoke with more cheer than she felt.

‘Bye, Maya Barton. I’ll see you around.’

Although he spoke pleasantly enough, Maya couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the weight of his words. She quickly handed the exhibits over to Malone as if they were a ticking time bomb.

She couldn’t get out of the custody suite quick enough. Nowak had unnerved her although she wasn’t the faint-hearted type. He reminded her of someone from her past. Someone who caused her to shudder violently. Maya ran back to the office, determined to put as much space between Nowak and her memories as possible. Despite her best efforts, she was sensible enough to know she could never outrun the past. It was going to catch up with her one day. And sooner than she thought.

12

By the time Maya returned to the office from the custody suite, Kym, Amanda and Chris had gone home and Nicola had returned to Markita Milani’s address. Chris had texted her a picture of his middle finger, which could only be in response to his powdered car. Smiling, she sent him a kiss emoji back. She decided to update details of Nowak’s examination onto Socrates, the scientific support database, and then she would check the police log to see if any other jobs had come through while she’d been downstairs. If not, she would contact Connor and take some of the burglary scenes from his list.

Maya had downloaded the images of Nowak and was checking them on the computer screen when she was suddenly interrupted by a loud exclamation.

‘Cor, he’s a big bastard, isn’t he?’

Maya nearly jumped out of her skin.

‘Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to startle you.’

Maya hadn’t even heard Elaine Hall walk in, which was unusual as she kept all her keys on a carabiner clip on her belt buckle. She usually sounded like Marley’s ghost as she rattled around the office. Elaine was the eldest of the SOCOs; she had fading blonde hair, a plump face and rosy complexion. She was known for her mercurial temperament and had a propensity for saying what everyone else was thinking.

‘Piotr Nowak. Just had the pleasure of processing him in custody.’ Maya turned the computer screen towards Elaine so she could have a closer look.

‘Ah, yeah. I recognise him now. He’s beefed up since I last saw him. Must have discovered steroids. I met him a few years ago when he was arrested for assault. His solicitor must be fucking good ’cause he never seems to get put away.’ Elaine flopped on the chair next to Maya letting an array of exhibit bags drop to her feet.

‘I heard you picked the stabbing up. You all done?’ Maya nodded towards the exhibits.

‘Yeah, thank God. It was a nightmare of a scene. David McCluskey was stabbed on Saturday evening, but didn’t take himself to hospital. Instead, he’s been administering to his own injuries while slowly pissing blood all over the place. He’s not telling us what happened, and if it wasn’t for the cops turning up to let him know about his brother, God