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‘It’s the difference between a psychopath with no remorse or empathy and a damaged individual who could take no more abuse,’ Alison said without looking away from her computer screen.
‘Fair enough,’ he said, choosing not to argue with the expert.
‘Hey, how’d it go with the paramedics?’ Stacey asked, reminding him of what was in his pocket.
He took out the piece of paper and held it up.
‘That’s how he was positioned when they found him?’ Stacey asked.
‘Yep,’ Penn said, pressing some Blu-Tack onto the back of the paper and putting it on the board.
‘Rolled onto his side with arms stretched out to make a circle.’
‘Definitely a letter P,’ Alison observed.
‘And he’d just volunteered at the local youth club,’ Stacey added.
‘How the hell does our guy know all this?’ Penn asked.
‘Not that hard,’ Alison said. ‘Follow someone around for a few days, follow their socials, see who they’re friends with, things they like, links they share.’
The woman knew too much about finding out someone’s movements.
‘Alison, you got something to tell us?’ Penn asked, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed but was saved from answering when his phone rang.
‘Hey, Jack,’ Penn said.
‘Delivery down here for you. If you’re going to want it upstairs, I’d bring some help.’
Penn frowned. He wasn’t expecting anything, but his curiosity got the better of him.
‘Back in a sec,’ he said, sure that he’d be able to handle whatever it was.
He whistled his way down the stairs and into Jack’s office.
‘Oh, what the hell is this?’ he asked, stopping dead.
‘The note is on the top,’ Jack called over his shoulder.
Penn reached for the slip of paper on top of the fourth archive box.
‘Are you kidding?’ he asked once he saw the name of the sender.
Yes, he’d been expecting Welton to produce their records, following the issue of the court order, but he’d anticipated they’d arrive electronically.
He took down the first box, opened it and sighed heavily.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Josephine Kirk was trying to make his job as hard as possible.
SEVENTY-ONE
Kim left Bryant gobbling a sandwich for lunch as she headed towards the main entrance at Russells Hall Hospital, the place they’d last visited in the early hours of that morning.
Interruption to his sleep tended to hit her colleague in his stomach, as though his body was seeking the lost sleep through additional calories. It manifested in her as an unquenchable thirst for caffeine.
Bryant hadn’t minded being told to stay in the car with his lunch while she escorted Charlotte to the morgue.
