Victim of Innocence: A DCI Matilda Darke short story

‘I’ll drive you.’

‘No. Stay. Have some decent food for a change.’

‘On my own? I’ll look like I’ve been stood up. I’ll drop you off then go for a pizza.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, genuinely meaning it.

‘Don’t be silly. This is the cheapest meal I’ve had out in ages.’

He flashed her his perfect smile which she couldn’t resist returning. Matilda promised herself she would make it up to him.

It was half past eight. Fortunately at this time of night on a week day there was very little traffic around so Matilda arrived at Heeley on the outskirts of the city centre in good time. There was nowhere for James to park, so he stopped in the middle of the road and put the hazards on. Matilda leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips.

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. Now, go on, I can see Sian’s eyes burning into us.’ He gave the DS a wave through the windscreen. She waved back.

‘Don’t wait up.’

Matilda kissed him again then, reluctantly, got out of the car. She walked over to Sian and they watched James drive away.

‘That reminds me, I need a new hoover,’ Sian said.

‘What?’ Matilda frowned.

‘One with really good suction on it,’ she smiled.

‘Cheeky sod. I’m sure you and Stuart are still passionate.’

Sian rolled her eyes. ‘It depends how well England are playing at rugby.’

Matilda took in the scene surrounding the block of six apartments and blinked at the dazzling blue flashing lights on the police cars. She ducked under the police tape and looked up at the building. Lights seemed to be on in every room. The residents were obviously interested in the attention they were receiving from police. ‘What’s dragged me away from a four-course meal, then?’

‘Flat number one is registered to Caitlyn Brown. Police were called when her mother came running out of the flat screaming at eight o’clock this evening. According to a neighbour, she was rambling and inconsolable. Caitlyn was found dead in bed with a very nasty head injury.’

‘Where’s the mother now?’

‘She’s been taken to hospital and sedated.’

‘OK. Let’s take a look.’

Sian handed Matilda a paper forensic suit. ‘Not designer, I’m afraid.’

In the foyer of the building, Matilda struggled into the flimsy white suit. She was uncomfortable and the shoe covers wouldn’t fit properly over her Jimmy Choos.

Sian looked at her watch.

‘Don’t you roll your eyes at me,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m not dressed for this.’

The long hallway had three rooms leading off it: a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. As it was only a one-bedroom flat, the bathroom was en suite. Matilda looked into the living room as she passed. It was large and crowded with furniture. Several scene of crime officers snapped photographs and took samples of blood smears on the wall.

In the large bedroom a swarm of white-suited officers dusted for prints, took photographs, and sketched the scene. Leaning over the victim in the bed was pathologist Dr Adele Kean in a forensic suit.

‘Evening,’ Matilda said.

Adele stood up and revealed the victim to Matilda. The duvet had been pulled back and the young woman lay as if asleep in matching bra and pants. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her lips, as if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t want to wake up from. All Matilda could think of was what a shocking waste of a life it was.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought tonight was date night,’ Adele said.

‘It was but I made the mistake of telling Sian my plans, so she organized a nice murder to ruin it for me, didn’t you?’ Matilda turned to the DS who was smiling.

‘Listen, if I have to sit home every night and watch Emmerdale, so can you.’

‘Just wait until it’s your birthday,’ she said with a hint of a smile. She turned to Adele. ‘What can you tell me?’

Carefully, Adele leaned over the bed and slowly rolled Caitlyn onto her side to show Matilda the back of her head. ‘As you can see we have a single blow to the back of the head.’

‘Nasty.’

‘Absolutely. It’s fractured the skull. There’s blood on the pillow and there’s some in the living room too, apparently. However, I’d say she died from a massive head trauma.’

‘What was she hit with?’

‘I don’t know,’ Adele frowned. ‘Something blunt but big and heavy. There’s nothing in the wound to identify a weapon, but the skull has caved in. I’d say you’re looking for something round.’

‘Like a bowling ball?’ Matilda guessed.

‘Nothing that big, but, possibly.’

‘Is this how she was found?’ Matilda turned to Sian.

‘Yes. The duvet was over her though. It’s like she just went to bed and died.’

‘Any sign of disturbance?’

‘Not in here. Come into the living room,’ Sian said, leading the way.

‘I’ll see you later, Adele.’

‘OK. I’ll try and do the PM tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know. Love your earrings, by the way,’ said Adele.

‘Thank you,’ she smiled and left the room.

‘As you can see from the carpet there are marks where the sofa should be, but it’s been pushed back,’ Sian said, pointing. ‘There’s blood smears on the back of the armchair and the wall too.’

‘So, what? She was hit in here and then the killer put her to bed?’

‘Could be.’