Simon Beckett - Whispers of the Dead

‘Of course.’

Tom adjusted his glasses. ‘I haven’t told anyone this except Mary and Paul. But I’ll be retiring at the end of the summer.’

I looked at him in surprise. I’d thought he was staying on till the end of the year. ‘Is this because of your health?’

‘Let’s just say I’ve promised Mary. The point is you were one of my best students, and this is the last chance we’re going to have to work together. I’d consider it a great favour if you gave it another week.’

I sat there for a moment, admiring how neatly he’d trapped me. ‘I walked into that, didn’t I?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, you did. But you can hardly break your word to an old man, can you?’

I had to laugh. Oddly enough, I felt lighter than I had done in ages. ‘OK, then. A week.’

Tom gave a satisfied nod. He tapped his fingers in time to the trumpet coming from the car speakers.

‘So what do you think of Dan’s new helper?’

I looked through the window. ‘Jacobsen? She seems keen enough.’

‘Mm.’ The fingers continued to beat out a gentle tattoo on the steering wheel. ‘Attractive, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Tom said nothing. I felt my face start to burn. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, grinning.

Tom had called ahead to warn the morgue that the exhumed remains were on their way. They’d have to be examined in a separate autopsy suite in order to avoid cross-contamination with the body from the cabin. Just the possibility of that could cause an evidentiary nightmare when the killer was caught.

Assuming he was.

Kyle was talking to two other assistants in the corridor when we arrived. He broke off to take us to the suite he’d prepared, glancing behind us as though expecting—or hoping—to see someone else. He looked crestfallen when he realized there was no one there.

‘Is Summer coming in today?’

The attempt at nonchalance wasn’t successful. ‘Oh, I dare say she’ll be stopping by later,’ Tom told him.

‘Right. I just wondered.’

Tom kept a straight face until Kyle had left the autopsy suite. ‘Must be spring,’ he said with a smile. ‘Gets the sap rising in everyone.’

The casket from Steeple Hill was brought in just as we’d finished changing into scrubs and rubber aprons. It had been transported in a box-like aluminium container; one coffin nestling inside another like Russian dolls. Before anything else the body had to be X-rayed, so Kyle wheeled the whole thing into the radiography room on a trolley.

‘Need a hand with this?’ he asked.

‘No, thanks, we’ll manage.’

‘Tom…’ I said. The remains would have to be lifted from the casket to be X-rayed. Decomposition had reduced the body mass, but I didn’t want him exerting himself.

He gave an exasperated sigh, knowing what I was thinking. ‘We can wait till Summer gets here. I’ve already gotten Kyle in trouble once.’

‘Oh, it’s all right. Martin and Jason can cover for me.’ Kyle had perked up at the mention of Summer. He gave a shy grin. ‘Besides, Dr Hicks isn’t here right now.’

Tom reluctantly conceded. ‘Well, OK, then. You can help David lift the body out once we’ve taken photographs.’ Just then his phone rang. He looked at its display. ‘It’s Dan. I better take it.’

While Tom went into the corridor to speak to Gardner, Kyle and I unsnapped the big clips that held the aluminium lid in place.

‘So you’re British, huh?’ he asked. ‘From London?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Wow. So what’s Europe like?’

I took a moment to wonder how to answer that as I wrestled with a difficult clip. ‘Well, it’s pretty varied, really.’

‘Yeah? I’d like to go someday. See the Eiffel Tower, places like that. I’ve travelled around the States, but I’ve always wanted to go somewhere foreign.’

‘You should try it.’

‘Not on my pay.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘So… is Summer going to be a forensic anthro like Dr Lieberman?’

‘I imagine that’s the plan.’

He kept his attention on unfastening the clips, trying to seem unconcerned. ‘Does that mean she’ll be staying in Tennessee?’

‘Why don’t you ask her?’

The look he gave me was terrified. He quickly dropped his gaze. ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t. I just, you know. Wondered.’

I managed not to smile. ‘I expect she’ll be here for a while yet, anyway.’

‘Right.’

He nodded, furiously, burying his head in his work. His shyness was painful to see. I’d no idea if Summer would welcome his attention, but I hoped he found the courage to find out.

We were about to lift off the aluminium lid from the container when Tom returned. His expression was sour.

‘Don’t bother. Dan doesn’t want us to touch the body for the time being. Apparently Alex Irving wants to look at it in situ.’

‘What for?’ I could understand why the profiler had wanted to view the first victim’s body in the cabin, but this one was laid out in a coffin. I couldn’t see what he hoped to learn from it that he couldn’t get from photographs.

‘Who knows?’ Frustrated, Tom blew out a breath. ‘Hicks and Irving in one morning. Lord, this is shaping up to be one hell of a day. And you didn’t hear me say that, Kyle.’

The morgue assistant smiled. ‘No, sir. Anything else I can do?’

‘Not right now. I’ll give you a call when Irving gets here. I’m assured he won’t be long.’

But we should have known that Irving wasn’t the type to worry over keeping anyone waiting. Half an hour, then an hour, went by, and still he hadn’t graced us with his presence. Tom and I occupied ourselves in rinsing and drying the remains from the cabin that had been left in detergent overnight. It was nearly two hours before the profiler sauntered into the autopsy suite without knocking. He was wearing an expensive suede jacket over a plain black shirt, his beard little more than a dark shading on the well-fleshed cheeks and softening jaw line.

A girl was with him, pretty and no older than nineteen or twenty. She hung close behind him, as though for protection.

He bestowed an insincere smile upon us. ‘Dr Lieberman, Dr…’ He made do with a vague nod in my direction. ‘I expect Dan Gardner told you I was coming.’

Tom didn’t return the smile. ‘Yes, he did. He also said you’d be here soon.’

Irving raised his hands in mock surrender, giving what I imagine he thought was a disarming grin. ‘Mea culpa. I was about to prerecord a TV interview when Gardner phoned, and it ran late. You know how these things are.’

Tom’s face said he knew very well. He looked pointedly at the girl. ‘And this is…?’

Irving put a proprietorial hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘This is, ah, Stacie. One of my students. She’s writing a dissertation on my work.’

‘That must be fascinating,’ Tom said. ‘But I’m afraid she’ll have to wait outside.’

The profiler waved a hand, airily dismissing the notion. ‘That’s OK. I’ve warned her what to expect.’

‘Even so, I’ll have to insist.’

The smile became set as Irving locked gazes with Tom. ‘I told her she could come with me.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have. This is a morgue, not a lecture theatre. I’m sorry,’ Tom added more gently to the girl.

Irving stared at him for a moment, then gave the girl a regretful smile. ‘Looks like I’ve been overruled, Stacie. You’ll have to wait back at the car.’

She hurried out, head bowed with embarrassment. I felt sorry for her, but Irving should have known better than to bring her without first asking Tom. The profiler’s smile vanished as soon as the door had closed behind her.

‘She’s one of my best students. If I’d thought she might embarrass me I wouldn’t have brought her along.’