Mel Sherratt - Hush Hush

‘Trent Gibson. He was the first on shift. The gym opens at seven and he found the body in the car park about ten minutes before.’ Perry pointed to a black BMW where another forensic officer was going over it. ‘That’s Parker’s car. Not sure why that wasn’t burnt out to hide evidence. Doesn’t make sense.’

‘Well, it all seems to have been done for show, rather than someone trying to cover it up.’ Grace turned back from checking out Gibson. ‘I know we can’t confirm the body until we have positive ID, but maybe our suspect thought it would prove who our victim was a little quicker?’

They reached the entrance to the tent and, after flicking the mask on, Grace stepped inside. She still put a hand to her mouth, trying to stop her instant gag reflex as her eyes fell on the seared face and hands of their victim. He was wearing gym wear, shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt due to the weather being unseasonably warm. Splashes of accelerant had burnt holes in the material.

There were several people dotted around the crime scene. A forensic photographer was clicking away next to a man hunched over the body. His stooped position meant Grace couldn’t see his frame, but she guessed him to be tall, perhaps early forties. He pushed up his glasses and smiled at her.

‘Dave Barnett. Senior CSI, as I’m known as now since a nifty title change.’

‘Grace Allendale.’ She smiled back, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it behind her mask. ‘DS.’

‘Yes, I know. Big boots to fill, but nice to meet you.’

‘Do you have an approximate time of death yet?’ Grace stooped down, repulsed but fascinated by the body at the same time. Even in her line of work, it never failed to amaze her what one human being was capable of doing to another.

‘I’d say he died between ten p.m. and midnight last night. His face is a mess, but he has some quite distinctive tattoos on his biceps. He has recent dates and names of two people. Caleb and Mia.’ Dave pointed at the body.

Perry gagged behind his mask and Grace hid a smirk. She already liked Dave Barnett.

‘I’m not certain of cause of death yet, although it won’t be because of the obvious.’ Dave pointed to the body. ‘But with the single stab wound to the chest as well, it looks like someone wanted to make sure he was dead.’

Having left the CSIs to do their job, Grace removed her mask and suit outside the tent. As she did so, she spotted a man waving for their attention. A leather satchel large enough to hold files or a laptop hung over his shoulder.

‘Ah, come and meet Simon. Local press.’ Perry placed the last of his protective gear into an evidence bag. ‘What are you loitering round for?’ he asked once he and Grace drew level with him.

‘I wanted to know if you have anything for me?’ the man responded, running his hand through blond, short, choppy hair as he caught Grace’s eye. Close up, he reminded her of Callum Best, the celebrity. A cheeky-chappy sort who wouldn’t look out of place if he came out with rhyming cockney slang or did a jig around a chimney up on a roof. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt with a navy tie that matched the colour of his trousers.

Perry shook his head. ‘Nothing yet.’ He looked at Grace. ‘This is the legendary Simon Cole, senior crime reporter for the Stoke News .’

Simon laughed as he offered his hand to her and she shook it. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’

‘Can you confirm it’s Josh Parker?’ he asked, looking at them both in turn.

‘Where did you get that name from?’ Perry narrowed his eyes.

‘It’s the word on da street.’ Simon put on a voice and grinned. ‘Is it true? Can you tell me?’

Grace shook her head.

‘Can you confirm it’s murder then?’ Simon looked at her with pleading eyes.

‘We’re looking into all possibilities at the moment,’ Grace replied.

Perry smirked.

‘So you have nothing for me?’ Simon glanced at Perry.

‘No,’ Perry said. ‘You’ll be the first to know when we do, though.’

Simon sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll go and talk to the public while I wait.’

Grace could see he was reluctant to leave. She guessed his reporter’s nose was twitching, but his manner was warm, in contrast to that of a few of the journalists she’d dealt with over the years.

‘How’s everything going with Natalie?’ Perry asked Simon. ‘Things still bitter?’

‘She’s taking me for every penny.’ Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Which would be annoying if either of us had any decent money.’

‘He got shafted for a younger model,’ Perry explained to Grace.

‘You make me sound like a car,’ Simon protested.

‘She walked all over him,’ Perry added.

‘I know, I know.’ Simon nodded. ‘I can’t help being so nice.’

Grace saw how blue his eyes were as they crinkled up. Sincere too, which she didn’t see very often.

‘I’d best be off to do my job.’ Simon pointed to the residents across the street.

Grace noticed him blushing and gave him a shy smile. She turned to Perry once he’d gone. ‘So, tattoos and the car make me feel confident Josh Parker is our victim, but we won’t be allowed to release this information until we have a confirmed ID. Nick has gone to inform his wife, even though she can’t see the body yet. For now, let’s look at the CCTV footage and …’ Grace stopped talking when she saw he wasn’t listening. His eyes were trained over her shoulder.

A shiver of dread passed through her as she turned her head in the direction Perry was looking. Marching towards them were two men and a woman. The two men she recognised from Spice World the month before.

The woman shared the same hair and skin colouring as Grace. And, like Grace, she had long legs with a slim build.

‘Well, well, well.’ Eddie Steele was the first to speak, removing his sunglasses.

Grace swallowed as she brought herself tall to face her half-brothers and half-sister.

The situation was surreal. This was never how Grace had intended to meet her family. But then again, she hadn’t expected the first murder case she worked on here in Stoke-on-Trent to be so close to home.

It was hard to speak in such close proximity to them. Although they had never met, Grace wondered if they knew as much about her as she knew about them. Her mum, Martha, had certainly suggested that. She had also told Grace that Eddie was two years older than her, that she was two months younger than Leon and had a half-sister three years younger. Their father, George, had been sleeping with both her mother and theirs at the same time, for a number of years, leading a double life.

Aware they were all looking at her, Grace stepped forward, but still she said nothing.

Eddie turned to Perry. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to speak to us?’

Perry nodded. ‘We need to find out your whereabouts last night. General questions for now. This is DS Allendale.’

‘Hello.’ Grace held out her hand to Eddie. His grip was as firm as her own.

‘Leon’ – Eddie pointed to his brother – ‘and Jade’s our sister.’

Grace shook both their hands in quick succession, worrying in case any of them revealed they already knew of each other. The resemblance between her and Jade was so significant that she hoped Perry didn’t notice. She could almost see her own eyes staring back at her.

But more than that, it was the way Jade stood: on her right foot to the detriment of her left, similar to something Grace always did. And the way she smiled, the full shape of her lips. She wondered what their mother looked like; was she similar to Grace’s own? Martha Steele, née Benson, had been olive-skinned with dark brown hair and not an ounce of fat on her.