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‘You okay, Stace?’ Penn asked as he took his seat and removed his tie.
She was placing her phone into her satchel and hadn’t yet met his gaze. ‘Can you let the boss know I’ve gone home? I don’t feel very well.’
‘Of course. Is there any—?’
‘Thanks, Penn,’ she said, hurrying past him.
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she’d been crying.
He pushed his chair back and approached her desk. To the right was her wastepaper bin. He lifted up the top piece of paper and there it was. Today’s lunch looked like some kind of pasta salad, thrown in unopened.
She wasn’t as clever as she thought she was. He’d first become suspicious when he’d noticed her leaving empty packets and containers on her desk. Something her fastidiously tidy habits had never allowed her to do before. The very obviousness of the act had prompted him to go looking and this was what he found most days.
It definitely explained the weight loss. He’d asked her many times if she was okay, and every time she’d assured him she was fine. He knew she was lying, but what more could he do? He’d considered messaging Devon, but if she was part of the problem, then he could end up making it worse. And even if she wasn’t, it was a colleague/friend boundary he wasn’t comfortable about crossing.
He wasn’t sure what had prompted her sudden exit from the office, but he suspected it had nothing to do with feeling unwell.
He sighed, knowing that whatever it was would have to wait until she was ready to share. For personal reasons, he wished she hadn’t left so abruptly. He’d have liked to ask her advice on a tricky situation he had with Lynne at the moment, but it would have to wait.
He fired up his emails and was surprised to see the top one was from Stacey. There were no words, no explanation, just a link to a Twitter account.
He clicked it and began to read the tweets of someone with an account called ‘Sentinel’.
‘Oh shit,’ he said, realising the impact of something like this on the investigation. Having spent the last few hours in the morgue, he’d had no clue of what was happening in the outside world. He was guessing it might be time for a catch-up with the boss, but there was something he wanted to look at first.
Seeing the man laid out in the morgue in the usual position had reminded him of the strange pose of the body at the scene.
It had to mean something.
He took down the photo and studied it. The boss had said something about a line in the dirt at his feet. Medical personnel tended to drop their kit where they were working, but he couldn’t imagine they were contemplating CPR on his knees.
He turned the photo the other way. What if the line had been nothing to do with the medical equipment? Had the killer left it as a line telling them which way the body should be viewed? What was the killer trying to say? Was his message connected to dance? The pose only looked like a pirouette from the top half. And how was that linked to the haphazard placement of the tee shirt, positioned so that a single line of flesh was visible around his midriff?
What’s your message?Penn wondered, and then considered the Twitter account.And why are you so eager to talk?
He pulled his thoughts away from the puzzle when he remembered what Stacey had asked him to do.
He picked up the phone to call the boss.
TWELVE
Kim ended the call from Penn as Bryant parked once more outside Teresa Fox’s house in Colley Gate.
A part of her hadn’t wanted to leave the crime scene at Homer Hill Park. She’d wanted to wade in with the uniforms and get the place cleared, but Inspector Plant had assured her that his team had it under control, and after scrolling through Teresa Fox’s social media, she knew exactly where she needed to be.
Less clear in her mind was Stacey’s reason for ducking off home early.
It wasn’t like the girl hadn’t had bollockings before, and normally she just sucked it up and came back stronger. Kim knew the time was coming for a different kind of chat with the constable.
‘Do you think I was too hard on her?’ she asked Bryant as he switched off the car engine.
‘Ooh, tough question.’
‘Really?’
‘No, you weren’t too hard on her, for you. I mean, you being you, it could have been a whole lot worse, and she has dropped the ball today.’
‘Okay, I’m happy with—’
