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

had been mashed into the concrete. Her left eye had been obliterated causing the eyeball to hang from the socket. It was partially covered with a sweep of hair, which Maya carefully smoothed away before taking a series of photographs.

Maya carefully examined Celeste’s exposed hand, wrists and forearms for any obvious injuries that could relate to defence wounds. Once again, she was surprised at how cold the body felt despite the hot weather. Satisfied that there was nothing apparent, she gave Jack the nod and between them, they carefully rolled her over onto her back.

As the body shifted position, a fresh stream of blood pooled from the shattered face. The sudden stream caused Jack to instinctively jump backwards, causing Maya to laugh.

‘All right, you,’ he said. ‘At least I’ve not struck up a conversation with her.’

Maya rolled her eyes. ‘You’ve heard too, have you?’

‘I hate to tell you this, but everyone’s heard.’

‘Well, everyone might have to hear about you jumping at the sight of a little bit of blood,’ she retorted as she continued to photograph the body. Next, she returned her attention back toward the house so she could record the location of the body in conjunction with the roof terrace.

‘So, what do we think?’ Jack sank to his haunches and stared at the smashed face. ‘Did Humpty jump, fly, or was she pushed?’

‘Fly?’

‘From the drugs and booze. She might have thought she was flying. It does happen.’

Maya nodded. ‘But surely she wouldn’t have written that note if she was tripping.’ She pondered the position of the body. ‘Was the property secure when the housekeeper arrived?’

‘Apparently the electric gates were open, but that’s not unusual as Celeste didn’t drive. She left the gates open for the local taxi firm which she used frequently. Anyway, the housekeeper let herself in the front door with her key. According to her initial account, she knew her employer must still be at home because the entrance panel on the burglar alarm didn’t sound when she let herself in.’

‘And?’

‘She went straight upstairs to her bedroom as, again, it was quite common for her to find Celeste sleeping off the excess from the night before. It’s become part of her working routine to rouse her, clean her up and feed her.’

‘Sounds like she was extremely high maintenance.’

‘It would seem so. Anyway, she spotted the doors to the roof terrace were open and looked out to see if Celeste was in the garden. She spotted the body from up there, which is when she phoned us. As she was clearly dead, she didn’t even bother going outside, just sat on the front doorstep smoking a fag while she waited for the cops to arrive. Greg Owen said she was a bit shaken up, understandably, but had seen all sorts over the years she’s worked here so wasn’t as shocked as you might otherwise expect.’

‘It’s looking like Humpty jumped then,’ Maya said. ‘It’s a bit strange though,’ she mused as she recalled the suicide note.

‘What is?’

‘The crossing out. On the note. She’s attempted to write repentant twice before she’s got it right. It’s as if somebody has corrected her, don’t you think?’

‘Not really, no,’ Jack said bluntly. ‘She was never known for being the academic type and she was off her tits.’

Maya thought for a moment. The familiar nagging doubt she had felt at Gorman’s had returned. To all intents and purposes, Celeste appeared to have committed suicide, but instinctively, it seemed too… staged.

‘It’s just… to me it looks like someone has corrected her while she was writing it. She’s made two attempts to write it and spelt it wrong, then written it correctly on the third go.’

‘Maybe she looked it up?’ Jack shrugged.

‘Really? There’s more chance of finding Viagra in a convent than a dictionary in that house. From what we’ve seen I reckon the only book she ever read was the Kama Sutra. It’s just the word repentant too. It just seems to me like a strange word for someone like Celeste to use, do you not think?’

‘Not particularly. Personally, I reckon you’re overthinking things.’ Jack sounded terse.

‘There were two coasters on the table too. She must have had company.’

‘Maybe one was for the gin glass. She’d been mixing her drinks and snorting coke. Her brain must have been fried. She may well have had company earlier and they had the gin. Maybe when they left it caused her mood to drop. Who knows? There are no signs of a disturbance and nothing appears stolen. I’m calling suicide. Do you agree?’

Maya paused. She needed more time to think but Jack’s insistence was domineering, bordering on impatience. She was also mindful that Kym would be expecting an update soon. The heat was oppressive, and the glaring sunlight ricocheting off the tiled patio was giving her a headache.

‘You’re right,’ she conceded. ‘I suppose I am overthinking it. I just don’t want to fuck up any more than I already have done. I’m going to fingerprint and swab that glass before we go anyway, just for my own peace of mind. Can you give me a hand bagging her up? I know the undertakers would normally do it, but it doesn’t seem fair leaving it to them the state she’s in.’

‘If you need me to.’ He looked wary at the thought and Maya was beginning to suspect he wasn’t comfortable around bodies. It took them a while to carefully package the shattered remains of Celeste Warren into the body sheet and bag, and they were both pouring with sweat by the time they’d finished. Panting with the exertion, Jack and Maya took a moment to sink onto a garden bench, enjoying the welcome relief of the shade.

‘I’ll ask Greg to contact the duty undertakers and get her shipped off to the morgue.’ Jack straightened up. ‘I’m going to head back to my car and phone the boss. Are you ready to go?’

‘Nearly,’ said Maya. ‘I’m just going to write my scene notes up and swab and fingerprint the