Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(6)



‘Sorry, no needles,’ he said, definitely.

‘But, the paramedics… the officers…’

‘Definitely no needles,’ he said, with finality.

Make them up, she wanted to scream. Lie to me.

‘So, the full report—’

‘Thanks, Mitch,’ she said, ending the call.

Bryant viewed her questioningly.

‘No needles at the scene,’ she said quietly.

His expression reflected the horror she was feeling at the realisation.

Those kids hadn’t injected themselves.





Six





‘Post-mortem starts in about five minutes,’ Bryant said, as she strode into Russells Hall Hospital and headed in the opposite direction of the morgue. Kim was still unable to walk these halls without remembering the stab wound her partner had sustained during their last major case.

‘On the dead victim,’ she retorted. ‘And last I heard we still had a live one.’

‘Fair point,’ he said, following her to the main reception, which was in the process of opening.

Kim smiled in what she hoped was an apologetic manner as she passed the two people already waiting in line.

Bryant’s whispers of ‘Sorry’ behind her told her she hadn’t been all that successful.

‘Detective Inspector Stone,’ she said, showing her ID to the woman who was about to explain to her the queuing system.

‘A girl was brought in last night: late teens, suspected drug overdose.’

The woman turned to her computer. ‘Name?’

Kim was tempted to say that had she known that it would have been the first thing she’d said, but stopped herself. Co-operation from this woman could prevent her trawling around countless wards searching for the girl.

‘Unidentified,’ she answered.

The woman’s lips pursed slightly as she tapped a few more keys.

She paused to reach to her right and switch on a small desk fan.

‘High Dependency Unit,’ she said, finally granting a half smile. ‘Do you need…’

‘No, thanks. We know where it is.’

Bryant followed as she headed past the café at speed.

‘So, guv, about last night…’ he said, catching up with her.

‘Bryant, I didn’t want to talk about it then and I don’t want to talk about it now. Yes, there was a vague similarity to an incident in my past but it’s purely coincidental and nothing I’d like to analyse further. Okay?’

‘Yeah, good to know, but I was only gonna apologise for overreacting.’

‘Oh, apology accepted,’ she said, taken aback.

‘Although, you have to admit—’

‘Bryant, shut it and press the button,’ she said, as they arrived at the ward.

He did both.

Kim held up her ID to the woman, who flashed her a beginning-of-shift smile.

‘May I help you?’

‘A teenage girl was brought in last night. Suspected overdose. I need to speak to—’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t help you,’ she said, shaking her head.

Kim’s patience was wearing thin. ‘But the receptionist said she’d been—’

‘I can’t help you, Inspector, because the girl you’re after died. Not more than fifteen minutes ago.’





Seven





Austin Penn sat in his Ford Fiesta at the entrance to the Hollytree estate.

He’d always known about the place, even when he was at school. It had always been rough and had featured on the news most nights. Back then and even when he’d been a trainee the estate had been known for violence, antisocial behaviour and drugs, but only in the last ten years had the gang mentality come to the fore.

West Mercia had had its share of similar estates. He’d been called to Westlands in Droitwich more times than he could count but it hadn’t come close to the sheer hopelessness that pervaded every inch of Hollytree.

Frustratingly, no one snitched, no one talked but it wasn’t anything to do with community. Most people on Hollytree were there because they couldn’t exist within a community. They didn’t talk for two reasons. Firstly, because they hated the police and secondly because they were scared of the Hollytree gang. It was difficult enough to combat one of those problems but both was near impossible. But if he could just find someone who wasn’t quite as scared of the gang.

He glanced towards the abandoned row of shops, all boarded up except for two.

Douglas Mason and Kelvin Smart had ventured onto Hollytree two nights ago, got no further than the row of shops before receiving six broken bones and an unenviable collection of cuts and bruises between them.

When interviewed they had both claimed they thought there was a chippy on the corner.

Penn had said nothing to the kids’ parents but he hadn’t believed them.

After asking around he had established that many local kids from decent, hard-working backgrounds dared each other onto Hollytree to see how far in they could get. Well, these two hadn’t got very far at all. But no matter whether or not it was a game, the kids had been bothering no one and certainly hadn’t deserved that.

They were both back home now being cosseted and likely spoilt by parents who were waiting for justice. And he suspected they were going to be disappointed.

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