whether or not it was the remains they feared most.
The FLO had been with the Morrisons since that morning. They’d been told the chances were that the body found earlier had been their son. But Paula knew that they’d still be in denial, still convinced there had been some grotesque muddle at the crime scene, that some total stranger had been misidentified as their beloved boy. Until they saw Daniel’s body for themselves, they’d be clinging to those shreds of hope. Paula was the one who would have to rip that prospect from them.
The FLO showed her into the kitchen, where the air was thick with cigarette smoke. Jessica Morrison sat at a marble-topped table, staring out through the conservatory at the darkness beyond. An untouched cup of tea sat by her folded hands. Her make-up sat on her skin like the icing on a cake. Her eyes were bloodshot and wild, the only clue to the pain saturating her.
Her husband perched on a high stool at the breakfast bar, a full ashtray next to his mobile and the landline handset. When Paula walked in, he couldn’t keep the look of bruised hope from his face. She shook her head slightly. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He took a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his crumpled shirt and lit up. ‘I haven’t smoked for the best part of twenty years,’ he said. ‘Amazing how it comes back to you as if you’d never stopped.’
If there was an easy way to do this, Paula still hadn’t found it. ‘I’m afraid I need one of you to come with me. We need to be certain that it’s Daniel we found earlier today,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, but it has to be done.’
Jessica got to her feet, stiff as an arthritic old lady. ‘I’ll come.’
‘No.’ Mike jumped off the stool and held up his hand. ‘No, Jess. You’re not up to this. I’ll do it. I’ll go with her. You stay here. You don’t need to see him like this.’
Jessica looked at him as if he were mad. ‘It’s not Daniel. So it makes no odds. I’ll go.’
He looked stricken. More in touch with reality, Paula thought. ‘What if it is him? I can do this, Jess. This is not a job for you.’ He put his hand on her arm.
She shrugged him off. ‘If it is Daniel, which I don’t believe for a minute, then I need to see him. I’m his mother. Nobody else has the right to say goodbye.’ She walked straight past him, down the hall towards the door.
Mike Morrison looked at Paula beseechingly. ‘She’s not strong enough to handle this,’ he said. ‘It should be me.’
‘I think you should come too,’ she said. ‘She’s going to need you. But I think she’s right. She needs to see him for herself.’ She gave him a fleeting pat on the arm and followed Jessica out to the car.
Paula was thankful it was a short drive to Bradfield Cross Hospital, which housed Dr Grisha Shatalov’s pathology suite. The atmosphere in the car was grim, the silence swelling to fill all the space available. Paula parked by the bay reserved for the mortuary van and led the way into the building by the discreet rear entrance. The Morrisons followed her like beasts to the slaughter. She led them into a small room decorated in muted colours with a long couch facing a wall-mounted monitor. ‘If you’d like to take a seat,’ she said. ‘Once you’re settled, the screen will show you the image we need you to identify.’
‘I thought we would see . . .’ Mike’s voice tailed off. He didn’t know what to call the body Paula presumed was his son.
‘We find it’s less traumatic this way,’ Paula said, as if she believed it. What could possibly make this less traumatic was beyond her powers of imagination. She waited till they sat down. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
She left the Morrisons and went down the hallway to the technicians’ room. ‘We’re ready for Daniel Morrison. The body that came in this morning?’
‘We’re all set up,’ one of the mortuary techs confirmed. ‘You just need to switch on the monitor.’
Back in the viewing room, Paula checked the Morrisons were composed and ready. Then she switched on the screen. It turned silvery grey then Daniel’s face appeared. They’d done a good job, she thought. Asphyxiation didn’t leave pretty victims, but they’d managed to make him look less swollen and engorged than he’d appeared earlier. His eyes were closed, his hair combed. By no stretch of the imagination did he look peaceful, but at least he didn’t look nearly as fucked up as he had done when they’d found him.
‘That’s not Daniel,’ Jessica said loudly. ‘That’s not my son.’
Mike put his arm round her shoulder and gripped her tight. ‘It’s Daniel,’ he said, his voice bleak. ‘It’s Daniel, Jess.’
She pulled away and staggered to her feet, approaching the monitor. ‘It’s not Daniel,’ she screamed, clutching her chest. Suddenly her face contorted in terrible pain. Her body twisted and bent and her mouth opened in a silent cry of agony. She fell to the ground, her body in spasm.
‘Jess,’ Mike yelled, falling to his knees beside her. ‘Get help,’ he shouted at Paula. ‘I think she’s having a heart attack.’
Paula sprinted from the room and threw open the technicians’ office door. ‘She’s having a heart attack, call a code.’
They looked blankly at her. ‘We’re not on the system,’ one said.
‘Well, get her on a fucking gurney and into the main hospital, ‘ Paula shouted. ‘Now. Do it!’
Afterwards, she’d have been hard pressed to catalogue the events of the next few minutes. The technicians were galvanised into action, loading Jessica on to a trolley and racing through the corridors to A&E, Mike and Paula at their heels. Then the Casualty staff sprang into action with unflustered aplomb and Paula was banished to the family waiting area with Mike.
Paula made sure he was settled and the receptionist knew where he was and where she would be, then headed for the ambulance bay and a nicotine hit. She had one hand on the door and the other on her cigarettes when a faintly familiar voice said, ‘Detective McIntyre?’ She swung round and found herself staring at warm grey eyes and a tentative smile.
‘Dr Blessing,’ she said, unable to resist the grin spreading across her face. ‘Elinor, I mean,’ she added, remembering that the last time they’d met she’d been granted that privilege.
‘It’s good to see you,’ Elinor said, wrapping her white coat more tightly around her as they stepped out into the chill air.
