“He discharged himself.”
Jeffries headed for the door.
“Right, Jayne, Dick, move your arses, we’re going to pick up David Morris.” Jeffries grabbed a jacket and headed to the incident room door, followed by Jayne and another DC.
Callie decided to keep quiet about Morris’s plans to leave the area. They’d find that out soon enough and there was no need for her to admit she knew what he was going to do. It would only make matters worse.
Chapter 20
“Have you come in to say ‘I told you so’?” Mike Parton said when Callie walked into the mortuary hoping to see if Billy was free for a late lunch.
“I told you so,” Callie responded with a smile.
“Told you so what?” Billy asked them both.
“That body number nine wasn’t anything to do with the migrant boat,” Callie said.
“Well…”
Mike wasn’t prepared to go as far as that, clearly.
“We know he wasn’t likely to be one of the migrants, that’s all. He still might have been one of the smugglers,” he said.
“Then he would have been French, or whatever nationality they were, surely?” Callie wasn’t prepared to let her theory go so easily. “The girl looking for him was from London.”
“What girl?” Billy was lost in this conversation.
“The girl who was showing his photo around town.”
“A photo of a missing boyfriend, possibly body nine, and then she wound up dead,” Mike explained to the bemused pathologist before turning to Callie. “One of the ladies at the club has confirmed what you told Miller, and she is pretty sure it was a photo of him.”
Callie was relieved for David Morris. She knew that he wouldn’t have been in when Jeffries went round to his home, and was unlikely to return there in the near future, but now that the police had confirmation of what he had told her, it would be less urgent for them to find him. Although, she knew, they would probably still like to talk to him about Councillor Claybourne and the cigarettes, not to mention to ask him who had beaten him up.
“Right, so they were connected, the girl whose body was found and the man, body nine?” Billy was trying to sort out what this meant.
“Which is why I came down to see you,” Mike explained.
“Of course.” It was all becoming clear to him, but Billy did not look pleased. “He will need another PM, done by the Home Office pathologist.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just in case they are connected.”
“It’s not your fault, Mike, it’s the rules. It’s just irritating.”
“I’m sure they won’t find anything you’ve missed.”
“So am I.” Billy was very sure of himself, he knew he was a very thorough and very good pathologist. “It’s the waste of time and money involved in redoing it that gets me.”
Both Parton and Callie knew that wasn’t strictly true. Autopsies were often done more than once, for the prosecution and the defence, in complex legal cases. It was a way of making sure that nothing was missed, although in practice, it often introduced an element of doubt, because two doctors would rarely agree completely.
Billy went to his office door and called out for his technician, who quickly appeared.
“You’ll need to get body nine ready to transport up to London or Brighton or wherever the Home Office pathologist says he wants it, Jim. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
Billy went into the changing room and closed the door, conversation over.
Jim looked at Parton and Callie and shrugged before disappearing back into the storeroom.
“I don’t think he was best pleased,” Parton said.
“No,” Callie agreed.
“Maybe he should think about getting registered with the Home Office himself,” Parton said.
“He is,” Callie said.
“Ah.”
Nothing else needed to be said.
* * *
“I’m sorry,” Billy said later in bed.
“About what?”
“About snapping at you and Mike in the mortuary.”
“Oh that, I thought you were apologising about your performance.”
He sat up.
“Are you saying I need to apologise for my bedroom skills?”
“No.” She laughed. “You certainly do not.”
They kissed, and then he lay back, serious once again.
“I was cross about them re-doing the PM on body nine and I really wasn’t looking forward to the job I had to do that afternoon, but that’s no excuse for taking it out on the two of you. Or Jim. He had to help with it as well, and he didn’t shout at anyone.”
“I don’t remember you shouting, just prancing off and slamming doors.”
“Prancing off? You make me sound like a schoolgirl.” He shook his head and lay back, remembering his afternoon.
“What was it?” Callie asked. “The job that you weren’t looking forward to?”
“A schoolgirl. Sixteen. Only she won’t be prancing off anywhere and slamming doors. You think I’d be used to it by now.”
“What was the cause of death?”
“Asthma attack, according to the ED consultant, and I couldn’t disagree, she had hyper-inflated lungs and mucous plugs grossly restricting the airways. Apparently, she was completely unresponsive to treatment, he said. There was nothing they could do, so sad.”
Callie sat up, suddenly panicking.
“Her name wasn’t Anna Thompson, was it?”
Billy hesitated as he thought for a moment.
“No. I’m sure it wasn’t. It was Colleen or something like that. Why?”
Callie relaxed.
“Patient,” she explained. “Over-using salbutamol. I warned her of exactly this when I saw her last.”
“Well, go round and warn her again. I tell you, I don’t want to see another young girl in my mortuary for something so preventable ever again.”
Callie would do exactly that, she decided. She had to make sure Anna understood the possible consequences of her actions, if she wouldn’t reduce the over-use of her inhaled medication, Callie would have no choice but to
