Silent Scream

Twenty-Four

Kim headed into the office after a forty-minute meeting with Woody. Three pairs of eyes looked at her expectantly.

‘I’m still heading the case.’

A collective sigh went around the room.

Kim continued. ‘The forensic osteoarchaeologist has confirmed the bones to be human and modern, so the area is now a crime scene. Cerys has remained on site and will head up the archaeological side and a forensic anthropologist is due to land from Dundee shortly.’

Dundee University was home to the Centre for Anatomy and Human Identification and had been offering degree courses in forensic anthropology for years. CAHID was regularly contacted for advice and input in high-profile identification cases at home or abroad.

Those strings had been pulled by Woody, who wanted to ensure that everyone who might need to take the stand was impeccably qualified.

‘Where are we on Crestwood staff members?’

Dawson picked up a piece of paper. ‘I’ve weeded out various short-term and temporary staff and I’m left with a list of four other members of staff that were recorded as working there when the place burned down.

‘As we know, Teresa Wyatt was the deputy manager and Tom Curtis was the head chef. General manager was a guy called Richard Croft. There was a housekeeper there for years by the name of Mary Andrews and two night-watch guys who doubled as caretaker, odd job guys.

‘So far, I’ve tracked Mary Andrews to a nursing home in Timbertree ...’

‘Richard Croft, isn’t that the name of the Conservative MP for Bromsgrove?’ Kim interrupted him. She could swear she’d just read an article that Croft had just completed some kind of bike ride for charity.

‘Definitely the same name but I haven’t yet been able to link him ...’

‘Pass it to Stace,’ Kim instructed.

She saw the set expression on Dawson’s face.

‘Stacey, what have you got on the names of the kids?’

‘I’ve got about seven so far and most of them's from Facebook.’

Kim rolled her eyes.

Stacey shrugged. ‘There ain’t many records of Crestwood and even less people that wanna talk about the place. My understanding is that the younger kids had already been placed in foster homes or other care facilities around the area. Another six or seven had gone back to family members, leaving around ten kids at the time of the fire.’

‘Sounds like a bloody nightmare.’

Stacey grinned. ‘To lesser mortals, maybe.’

Kim smiled. Stacey loved a challenge and that was about to be a good thing.

‘Right, Bryant, go get the car started.’

Bryant grabbed his jacket and left the office. Kim stepped into The Bowl and sat to remove her biking boots. As she did, she overheard the conversation taking place in the outer office.

‘Have yer tried flowers?’ Stacey asked.

‘Check,’ Dawson replied.

‘Chocolates?’

‘Check.’

‘Jewellery?’

No response.

‘Are yer kidding? You haven't tried jewellery? Oh, Kev, nothing says “sorry for being a totally amoral arsehole” like a sparkly expensive necklace.’

‘Piss off, Stace, what would you know?’

‘I'd know, lover boy, ‘cos I'm all woooooman.’

Kim smiled as she tied her right lace.

‘Yeah but your love life amongst the world of goblins doesn't count. I need advice from a woman who goes out with men. Like, real ones.’

The conversation ended as Kim stepped back into the office. ‘Stace, you’re now working on the staff members and ex-residents.’

Dawson looked confused.

‘Get your coat, you’re coming with me.’

He took his suit jacket from the back of the chair.

‘I’d get your overcoat as well. You’re now staying on site with forensics.’

His face lit up. ‘Seriously, Guv?’

Kim nodded. ‘I need to know what’s going on as soon as it happens. I want you to make a total nuisance of yourself. Keep asking questions, follow people around, listen to conversations and the minute you get anything new, let me know.’

‘Will do, Guv,’ he said, eagerly.

He followed her down to the waiting car.

She got in the front seat and he got in the back.

‘Buckle up, kiddies,’ Bryant said, pulling out of the car park.

Kim glanced into the rear view mirror at Dawson's eager, excited face, then turned and looked out of the window.

For a person with no people skills whatsoever, the law of averages dictated that now and again she had to get it right.