Chapter 5
Five
It was two minutes to seven when Kim entered the squad room the next morning, and she wasn’t surprised to see her whole team already assembled for the briefing.
She’d have been earlier herself if she hadn’t had to drop Barney off at Charlie’s.
Her neighbour was taking her dog to a couple of National Trust sites for coffee and cake.
It was a hard fact to swallow that her dog went more places than she did, but he was living his best life, and for that she was grateful.
Her award stared at her from the edge of Stacey’s desk.
‘Thanks for collecting that, Stace,’ Kim said, picking up the glass sculpture and placing it on her own desk in the Bowl before coming back out into the main room.
‘It was an honour,’ Stacey said, beaming. ‘It was a great night. Got to speak to so many fabulous people, and there were even snacks afterwards, the really good shit.’
Penn nodded his agreement.
Kim was pleased that half her team had enjoyed themselves.
‘I gotta ask,’ she said, glancing over at the coffee pot. ‘Did anyone else notice that Bryant bought a new suit?’
‘Yeah,’ Stacey said.
Penn nodded. ‘Pretty smart.’
It was just her then. She really should start paying more attention.
‘How’d it go last night?’ Bryant asked her, nodding towards the door.
‘Suspiciously okay,’ she said, still surprised at her boss’s reaction. ‘Put it this way: I’ve still got my job, so anything more is a bonus.’ She poured herself a coffee from the nearly full pot and took a sip. ‘Hmm, thanks, Penn.’
‘Hey, how did you know it wasn’t me?’ Bryant asked.
‘Cos it tastes really good, unlike when you put in the bare minimum of coffee like there’s a national shortage. Trust me, there’s more at the supermarket.’
Penn offered his colleague a triumphant grin.
‘Okay, guys, moving on. I know Bryant explained why we were called away.’
Stacey and Penn both nodded.
‘Penn, get the board,’ Kim said and took another swig of coffee. He really did make a good cuppa.
‘Our victim is thirty-four-year-old Ashley Reynolds. There’s a single stab wound and a few defensive cuts to her hands.
No other apparent injuries. Looks like she was on her way home from netball practice at the community centre, which is approximately one mile from her home.
Website says practice finishes at nine, and she was discovered just before ten.
It’s a mainly busy road and well lit, except for this small area. ’
She turned to Bryant. ‘Any update from the crime scene?’
He took out his phone and accessed the email. ‘Body was removed at three this morning. Evidence collection expected to last until at least midday. No murder weapon found.’
‘Right. I’m informed by Inspector Plant that our victim is survived by a husband and daughter who were understandably distraught at the news. Obviously, that’ll be the first port of call for Bryant and me, but on the face of it, there was no obvious reason for this young mother to lose her life.’
‘So, maybe it was just—’
‘It wasn’t random, Stace,’ Kim said. ‘There was nothing missing. Her bags hadn’t even been opened. No violence and no sexual assault.’
‘So, it’s all about her,’ Penn said.
Kim nodded. ‘There’s something in her past or present that prompted this. Stace, I want to know everything about her: work, neighbours, friends, enemies. I want to know the name of anyone she had a spat with in primary school even. And do the usual checks on the spouse.’
‘Got it, boss.’
‘Penn, check in with Keats and attend the post-mortem, and walk the route she took from the community centre. See if there’s anything we missed.’
‘Got it,’ he said.
‘Everyone know what they’re doing?’ she asked.
They all nodded in her direction.
‘Hey, guv, did I hear right that Martha’s back in?’ Bryant asked.
Kim rolled her eyes and nodded.
Bryant looked to Stacey. ‘How many Marthas have you got?’
Unfortunately, Martha Stout had the honour of being a West Midlands Police rite of passage. You could barely claim to be a Dudley borough police officer without at least one ‘Martha encounter’ under your belt.
‘Two,’ Stacey answered. ‘Shoplifting and breach of the peace with the neighbours. You?’
‘Three. Same as yours and a GBH at a car boot sale.’
‘Also two,’ Penn offered, surprising Kim. She often forgot he’d been a constable locally before transferring to West Mercia. ‘Neighbour issues and an anti-social complaint.’
‘Guv?’ Bryant asked.
‘More than all of you, so let’s just leave it at that, shall we?’ she said, heading to her office to retrieve her coat.
The award on her desk stared accusingly at her as though it wanted to be appreciated. She knew there were many recipients whose awards would have pride of place on the mantelpiece or in a cabinet with other treasures, and that was quite right… but she felt like a fraud.
In times of danger, she didn’t feel the fear and do it anyway.
She didn’t weigh up the potential harm to herself and then make a conscious choice to accept the risk.
True bravery was when you measured what you could potentially lose – friends, family, partners – and then accepted the danger.
She’d given no thought to anyone before getting into that van.
She wasn’t a hero; she was just bloody-minded.
No longer wishing to be reminded of that, or of her other reasons for disliking the award, she grabbed it and dropped it in the drawer.
With the thing out of sight, she felt her mood begin to lighten.
It didn’t last long, though, once she remembered where she was going next.