Deadly Lies by Ann Girdharry (read me a book .TXT) 📕

Billy came to kneel by her side. She remembered the good times they’d had together as children and the way he had felt in her arms when he was small and she rocked him to sleep.

‘I know you’re sorry. Why don’t you write a message,’ he whispered.

In her dying moments Maria tried to move her fingers, and as the light went out of her eyes, the last thing she knew was Billy gently stroking the side of her face.

45

Emily couldn’t think straight. The purple blotches had spread to her legs and she felt so cold not even Lisa’s cuddles made her warm. The chills were bad. Emily’s body shook and her mind drifted. Sometimes she was at home drinking hot chocolate in the kitchen, another time her mother was putting her into a warm bath and she could smell the flowery bubbles of the bubble bath.

Emily could hear her mother singing a nursery rhyme and then she realised it was Lisa, humming the tune and mixing up the words.

‘Do it again, Lise. It’s nice.’

Lisa hummed and stroked Emily’s hair, just like Mummy liked to do. And Emily’s heart beat faster and faster – ta-dum, ta-dum, ta-dum – it raced along as if it was galloping and might any moment burst from the effort.

46

Maria Fernandez’s photograph had been circulated to patrol officers so when a young woman matching her description was found dead, a message came straight through to Tom.

The body was hidden behind a row of dumpsters not far from Himlands Heath high street.

‘It looks like an overdose, sir,’ the uniformed officer told Tom. ‘She was found by the refuse collection guy, he’s waiting over by his van.’

‘I’ll view the body first and then I’ll speak to him,’ Tom said.

The crime scene manager was already on site, directing two SOCOs who were photographing the area.

‘Hello Delaney,’ the CSM said. ‘It looks like it’s your woman and since it’s so important I’ll make an exception and let you in quickly, but you’ll have to suit up into full gear.’ The CSM jerked her head towards her car. ‘Grab what you need from my boot.’

Tom jogged across the road and rummaged for a coverall and shoe protections. The pathologist, Luke Sanderson, arrived. Luke was a personal friend of Grant’s.

‘I know this one is a priority,’ Luke said. ‘Shall we see what we’ve got?’

The woman was lying on her stomach in a film of grime spreading out from the base of the dumpsters. Judging by the tracks in the sludge, she’d dragged herself for three or four metres. There was no syringe in sight but the injection marks on her arm were obvious. Most were old, with one more fresh.

Tom didn’t think this was a hang-out for druggies. ‘Officer, do you often get people shooting up here?’

‘The more frequent trouble spots are in the park or under the bypass. This used to be a problem area until the council installed CCTV cameras and new lighting.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

Luke was crouching. ‘These marks on her arm are healed except this one.’ He pointed. ‘This is a recent injection site and by the looks of the sores at the base of her nose, she’s been snorting cocaine on a regular basis.’

‘Can you tell what’s been injected?’ Tom asked.

‘Not unless I’ve got a crystal ball.’

‘Right. What about time of death?’

‘Give me a chance. I need to take her body temperature first.’

‘It looks like Maria Fernandez to me,’ Tom said.

‘We’ve got her fingerprints on file so it will be easy to check and I don’t see any other wounds, though it’s curious how she dragged herself.’

‘Almost as if she was trying to get away. Or go towards something. Could she have been hallucinating?’

‘If it was a cocaine overdose then hallucinations are highly likely. And if it was a bad trip then she could have died trying to escape her nightmares.’

‘Bloody hell. Any signs of foul play?’

‘Not as far as I can see.’ Luke rolled the victim gently onto her back. ‘Oh hello, what’s this?’

Maria’s arm had been covering some scratchings marked in the sludge.

‘Did she do that with her finger?’ Tom asked. ‘Or was it there already?’

‘It’s fresh and it’s like she wrote it herself and then her arm fell on top of it,’ Luke said. He waved a SOCO over to take photographic evidence. ‘It says “nine”, spelled out as a word and then maybe the start of another word which has been smudged away.’

Tom was taking a picture with his own phone when one of the SOCOs called out. ‘There’s something over here.’

It was a jacket with a flowery lining lying by one of the dumpsters. It looked as if it had been tossed there amongst the garbage spills.

‘Anything in the pockets?’ Tom asked.

The SOCO checked. ‘’Fraid not.’

A purse lay near the dumpster wheel. It could have fallen from a pocket. Or not. The SOCO reached out a gloved hand.

Small and with a zippered opening, the purse didn’t contain money. What it did hold was a train ticket, Brighton to Himlands Heath. Tom had to stop himself from shouting. And there was something else.

‘What is it?’

‘Looks like a receipt.’

He held his breath as the SOCO unfolded the paper.

‘It’s from a chemist in Brighton dated two days ago.’

‘Bloody fantastic,’ Tom yelled.

47

Tom contacted DI Sarah Hunter. Brighton was her patch and he needed her knowledge. Sarah met Tom outside the chemist and it didn’t take long for them to locate the pharmacist Maria had spoken to.

‘Oh yes,’ the young woman said. ‘She was acting sort of spaced out. I remember she wanted an antiseptic and if I look up our records for that day… yes, see here, she bought antiseptic. She told me it was for a child.’

‘Emily is likely suffering from sepsis. I think Maria bought treatment,’ Tom said.

Sarah checked her phone. ‘Chief Inspector Billingham is over with your boss at Riley’s apartment. Billingham just told me there’s a potential hostage situation so he can’t leave. He’ll