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

first cut into Geoffrey Doran. The scalpel sliced the skin as easily as a hot knife through butter as the Y incision was carved as Andy scuttled away, phone clutched to his ear.

By the time Andy had headed back into the changing room, where he could take the call in private, it rang off. Almost immediately, however, the same number flashed demandingly back up on the display.

‘Hello? I was just about to call you back.’

‘Really? You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts.’

‘Not intentionally, I’m sorry. I’m at the mortuary, there’s a post-mortem just about to start. I shouldn’t really be on my phone.’

‘Anyone I know?’

‘Geoffrey Doran.’

There was a snort. ‘No loss there. I hope death wasn’t too quick and painless.’

‘Doesn’t appear to have been, the guy has no face left.’

Another snort. ‘I need to speak to you about the forensics from the McCluskey stabbing.’

‘Not a problem. I’ll ring you once I’m finished up here if that’s okay,’ said Andy, uncharacteristically subservient.

‘Make sure you do. I don’t want to have to start chasing you.’

‘You won’t. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.’

‘Before you go, there’s one other thing. Do you work with someone called Maya Barton?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I want you to find out everything there is to know about her.’

The call was disconnected before Andy could comment further. Sighing heavily, he returned to the mortuary. It wasn’t the sight of the pathologist scooping out Geoffrey Doran’s insides through a gaping cavity that made Andy want to be sick; it was the conversation he’d just had with Aiden Donnelly.

35

Markita’s mouth was dry and her stomach churned as she arrived at the prison. She sat in her car, bracing herself to go and visit Nowak. Donnelly had told her that Piotr was struggling being inside because of how much he missed her. He said she should go and visit and reassure him that things were fine between them. She was to convince him how much she missed him and was looking forward to him coming home. She was also to apologise for not visiting earlier, and explain it was because she found it too upsetting to see him in there.

For Markita, this was going to be easier said than done. She wasn’t confident that she could lie successfully to Piotr’s face. He knew her too well. She was convinced he would see through her duplicity, and the thought of him finding out what she had done terrified her. He would kill her. He would kill both of them.

With trembling hands, she reached for her phone and read the text message she had just received.

Don’t worry about the visit. Just think about us together later.

Despite her anxiousness, she beamed at the thought. Markita texted back that she couldn’t wait and included a row of love heart emojis. Her dry mouth moistened at the thought of the evening ahead. Pulling down the sun visor, she slid back the panel to reveal the vanity mirror, and carefully applied a fresh slick of lip gloss. She spritzed perfume over her exposed cleavage and with that, she was ready.

Markita locked the car and steadied herself on her towering heels, before clacking her way towards the prison entrance. Her phone bleeped again with a message from Donnelly:

Make sure you keep Piotr happy.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but she would make sure this visit went well. She would tell Piotr everything he wanted to hear and more. She couldn’t afford to risk arousing his suspicions, so she had no choice.

The sight and sound of Geoffrey Doran being catapulted from the car keeps playing on a loop in my mind. With hindsight, it was a foolish, reckless plan. Anything could have gone wrong. I could have killed myself. I might not have killed Doran. If he hadn’t died, then considering how well he knew me, he would easily have recognised me and that would have been it. Louisa always said I could be too impetuous at times.

The sound of the car slamming into him was unforgettable. The crunching thud and the splintering of the windscreen. The feel of the car mounting his broken body had been a truly cathartic sensation. Each of the deaths had given me a sense of release. I had even managed a full, deep and dreamless sleep after each of them. I like to think if Louisa had been watching, she would have been pleased and felt compensated in some way.

But that was then, and this is now. Yet again, I feel restless and so fucking angry and resentful towards so many people. The only thing I can do to soothe my peace of mind is to think of Louisa. Or decide who I’m going to kill next. And exactly how I’m going to do it.

36

It was another warm day when Maya arrived at work for her afternoon shift. It had rained heavily through the night, leaving a heavy mugginess that threatened to repeat the blistering heat of the last few weeks.

‘Good afternoon, team.’ Maya was greeted with the smell of fast food as she walked into the office.

‘Hi, love.’ Amanda gave her usual cheery smile.

Connor, Chris and Elaine acknowledged Maya with a wave; their mouths were full of the fried chicken and chips that they were sat gathered around. Maya guessed it was a quiet day, as it wasn’t often that any of the team got to have a proper meal break. It was usually so busy that, at best, they grabbed a quick snack while updating paperwork.

‘Where are Nicola and Andy?’ Maya mused aloud as she turned to study the duties board.

‘Nic’s rest day, Andy’s at a post-mortem. We’ve had a fatal road-traffic collision last night. It looks like a hit and run. Or to be more precise, it looks like he’s been hit and run over several times.’ Amanda grimaced as she spoke.

‘God, that sounds nasty. So, has he been hit initially, and then other drivers have just not seen him?’

‘The preliminary investigation suggests it’s the same car