Silent Scream

Thirty-Seven

Kim was beside the prostate form of Arthur Connop within seconds.

‘Move away,’ she barked.

Three people stepped to the side and Bryant stood between them and the figure on the ground.

Before she turned her attention to the victim, Kim nodded to a youth across the road pointing a mobile phone in their direction.

Bryant sprinted across and without his protection the crowd began to converge on her again.

‘Folks, back off right now,’ she shouted, as she assessed the damage.

Connop’s left leg was hanging in the gutter at an unnatural angle. Kim leaned down and put two fingers to his neck which told her exactly what she already suspected. He was dead.

A young woman with a pushchair was already requesting an ambulance.

Bryant returned and looked down at her. ‘Guv, do you want me to ...’

‘Get details,’ she said. She would not expect her team to do anything she wasn’t prepared to do herself. And she was trained. Damn it.

She knelt on the ground as Bryant turned to the witnesses and tried to corral them away from the area.

She rolled him over onto his back, gingerly. His face was mottled with gravel from the road. His eyes stared, unseeing, up to the sky.

She heard the gasp of one of the witnesses but she had no time to worry about the sensitivities of onlookers. It was human nature to peer at things that would later cause nightmares but her priority was Arthur Connop.

Kim gently tilted back his head using two fingers beneath the chin.

His zip-up cardigan had not been fastened so she ripped open his shirt

She placed the heel of her right hand at the centre of his chest and placed her left hand over the top, interlocking her fingers. She pressed down sharply approximately six centimetres. She counted to thirty and stopped.

She moved to Arthur’s head and with her left hand pinched his nose shut. She sealed her lips over his mouth and blew steadily.

She watched as his chest rose; the result of artificial respiration. She repeated the process and then returned to compressions.

She knew that CPR was used primarily to preserve intact brain function until further measures could be taken to restore spontaneous blood circulation and breathing. The irony was not lost on her that she was trying to preserve a brain that the owner had spent years trying to destroy.

The squeal of police sirens stopped somewhere behind her. Their first priority would be to close off the road to preserve evidence. Others would take over questioning the witnesses.

Above and around her she was conscious of the activity but her focus remained on the lifeless figure beneath her hands.

A cacophony of voices surrounded her but one broke through her concentration.

‘Guv, shall I take over?’

Kim shook her head without looking up. She paused compressions, sure she’d just seen the chest move of its own volition.

She stared hard. It rose again. The light was returning to his eyes and a low guttural groan escaped his lips.

Kim sat back in the road, her arms dead with fatigue.

Arthur Connop looked right at her. She saw an instant of recognition and the glint of understanding as the pain throughout his body travelled along the nerves to his brain. He groaned again and a grimace contorted his features.

Kim laid a hand on his chest. ‘Stay still, the ambulance will be here soon.’

His rolling eyes found her as she heard another siren in the distance.

‘Ended,’ he gasped.

Kim bent her head. ‘What’s ended, Arthur?’

He swallowed and shook his head from side to side. The effort brought another groan.

She heard the approaching footsteps of the paramedics.

‘What did you say?’

‘End it,’ he managed.

She looked into his eyes and saw the light once again receding.

Her aching arms instinctively moved towards his chest but she felt herself being moved aside.

Two green uniforms blocked her view. The male felt for a pulse and shook his head. The female began compressions as the male began taking equipment from his bag.

Bryant took her arm and guided her away.

‘He’s in good hands, Guv.’

She looked back as the male paramedic placed the defibrillator pads on Arthur Connop’s chest.

She shook her head. ‘No, he’s gone.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He asked me to end it.’

She leaned against the wall, fatigue taking the place of adrenaline. ‘Whatever the hell went on at Crestwood tormented these people for the rest of their lives.’

Bryant nodded. ‘Witnesses saw a white car speeding away. No one actually saw the impact but one swears it was an Audi, the other says a BMW. Could be unrelated, Guv.’

She turned and looked at him. ‘Bryant, he stumbles the hundred yards home every day without incident.’

‘So, you’re not thinking genuine hit-and-run.’

‘No, Bryant, I think our killer was out here waiting and the bastard had the gall to do it right in front of us.’

He touched her arm gently. ‘Come on, let’s get you cleaned up before we ...’

She pulled her arm free. ‘What time is it?’

‘Just after twelve.’

‘Time to pay our local councillor a friendly visit.’

‘But, Guv, a couple of hours ...’

‘May well make us too late,’ she said, heading back towards the car. ‘Other than William Payne, our councillor is the only one left.’