“I thought I might pop in this afternoon and see how he was doing,” Callie continued.
Kate leant forward.
“If I were you, I’d have a nap first,” she said, honest as ever. “So you don’t look quite so tired.”
Chapter 3
The mortuary was situated in the grounds of Hastings General Hospital, but set back from the main buildings and shrouded with trees. No one wants to advertise their failures, least of all doctors.
Callie entered a door to the side of the chapel of rest and took the lift down to the mortuary. It was a place she had often visited, even before she started going out with pathologist Billy Iqbal, because part of her job was to liaise with the pathologist and the coroner’s officer, Mike Parton, on cases involving the police. She wasn’t surprised to see Mike Parton there, he seemed to have almost lived there since the bodies started washing up on the shore. He was dressed, even on a Saturday, in a dark grey suit and black tie. He looked very much like a funeral director, which in some ways, he was.
“Morning, Dr Hughes,” Mike said.
“Hello, Mike, is Billy around?”
Billy himself popped his head out of the autopsy suite door before Parton could answer. He was dressed in scrubs but wasn’t wearing the protective apron, mask and visor that would have suggested he was in the middle of an autopsy. About to turn forty, still slim and athletic in build, Billy was lucky that little grey speckled his black hair yet, although Callie actually liked grey hair on men. She felt it made them look more distinguished.
“Hi, Callie, Mike, I’ll be with you both in a moment. Why don’t you wait in the office? Get yourselves some coffee.”
Billy had an expensive coffee maker in his office and Callie wasn’t sure she knew how to work it, but fortunately Parton clearly did and set about picking out pods and making them both a cup. Callie sat down, as much out of the way as was possible in such a small room, and watched him work. Parton handed her an espresso and she cupped it in her hands, breathing deeply and savouring the delicious smell of it.
“It’s been a busy week,” Parton said by way of a conversation starter once they were both settled with their drinks and he had found himself a space to perch on the edge of the desk.
“I’m hoping things will get a bit less busy now that the bodies seem to be moving further down the coast,” Callie replied.
“I’m hoping there aren’t too many more, period.”
“That makes two of us,” Callie agreed.
“Make that three,” Billy added as he came in to join them and slid adeptly into the small space behind his desk.
“How’s it going?” Callie asked.
“Depressing,” he answered, but his tone belied his words. “It’s going to be another long day. I’ve still got two more autopsies to do, and enough paperwork to keep me going for months.”
Callie had expected as much, but it was still a disappointment to hear that he was unlikely to be able to spend any time with her over the weekend.
“I don’t suppose I could be really cheeky and suggest a takeaway at yours later?” he added with a cheeky grin.
Callie smiled, relieved that at least he was planning on seeing her, even if it was going to be much later.
“Of course.”
Parton cleared his throat to remind them that he was there. Whilst they had made no effort to conceal their relationship, it was hardly professional to discuss their personal affairs in front of him and both Callie and Billy looked sheepish.
“The coroner would like a brief update later today, so is there anything I can tell him?” Mike took out his notepad and a pen in readiness.
“The two bodies found over towards Dungeness went to Dover, I can ring them for you or−”
“No, that’s fine, I can contact them directly. I’ll need to do that to get copies of all the reports sent to us, anyway.” Mike made a note to do this.
“I’m just completing the paperwork on the body found by the fishing boat off Hastings yesterday. Unidentified body number eight for us. All very much in line with the others. Male, IC3, late teens early twenties, poorly nourished. Cause of death: drowning.”
“Any identifying features?”
Both Billy and Callie knew that identifying the bodies and informing any relatives was going to be a big part of Parton’s job, working along with Miller and his team, and that it wasn’t going to be easy. None of the bodies had so far had any identification on them, and few had any particular features that would make them easy to identify.
“Nope, sorry. Lisa came by and took some photos of his face, like all the others, but it’s going to be hard.”
Parton nodded, resigned to this answer.
“The coroner has been in touch with various groups working with immigrants both here and in France, in the hope that they might be able to help,” Parton told them.
“Has anyone got in touch with the police to suggest names? Relatives who knew they were going to try and make it across?” Billy asked, but Parton shook his head.
“This isn’t the same as that case where all the group in the back of the lorry were all from Vietnam and it had been pre-arranged. This is people from different countries who have probably been in Calais or France somewhere, for quite some time. Any relatives they have may not have had contact with them in recent months or even know where they are.”
Sadly, Callie knew he was right, but it would have been nice if someone could identify them quickly.
“We’re probably going to have to go through the
