Victim of Innocence: A DCI Matilda Darke short story. Michael WoodЧитать онлайн книгу.
She wanted to sleep. She began to remove her clothes; floppy fingers fumbled with her shirt buttons; tired legs kicked out of her trousers. She couldn’t be bothered to change into her pyjamas; she couldn’t find them anyway.
When she stood up, she caught her tired reflection in the wardrobe mirror. She looked a mess: pale, skinny, bad skin and crazy hair.
Caitlyn threw back the duvet and fell into bed. She started to relax straight away as her warm body was engulfed in the cool crisp sheets. She turned over to cocoon herself in the duvet and didn’t notice the blood dripping from her head onto the pillow; didn’t notice as a red stain grew like a flower across the sheets.
Monday March 7, 2011
‘Table for two. Name of Darke.’
Matilda held her husband’s hand firmly while they waited for their table. His large fingers wrapped around hers. His were calloused, weather beaten, the hands of a manual worker, strong and rugged. She felt safe with this tall handsome man gripping her hand. She had no idea why she was suddenly so fixated on James’s hand, but as she looked down, she wanted to memorize every single line and cut, as if she was seeing it for the last time. She also wanted to lick it, take off his jacket and shirt, kiss his firm masculine body, run her tongue …
‘Mr Darke, your table is ready.’
‘Thank goodness. I’m starving,’ Matilda said, her face flushed with embarrassment.
It had been a while since they had dressed up and gone out somewhere posh to eat. Since the renovations on the house, they were living in a glorified caravan at the bottom of the garden. Meals consisted of takeaways, sandwiches, and things that could be cooked in one pan. Tonight was a chance to indulge in expensive food and drink over several courses.
They were shown to their table by the window and given the menus.
‘Are you all right?’ James asked.
‘I’m fine. Why?’
‘You look a bit flushed.’
Matilda smiled and felt herself blushing. ‘I’m fine. Honestly. I’ve been looking forward to this evening all day. I haven’t had lunch.’
‘I have,’ James said as he perused the menu. ‘But only a jacket potato, a bit of salad, tuna mayo, packet of crisps.’
‘Is that all? You’ll be wasting away,’ she mocked.
‘Are we having a starter?’
‘Of course.’ Matilda was almost salivating as she looked at the menu.
Her phone started to ring. They made eye contact. They both knew what this meant.
‘Luckily I hadn’t chosen yet,’ James said.
Matilda mouthed ‘sorry’ before taking her phone out of her inside pocket. She listened to the voice on the other end. All the while her bright face was falling to one of sadness and disappointment. She ended the call and didn’t dare look up at her husband.
‘You have to go,’ James said.
‘I’m afraid so. A body has been found in Heeley.’
‘I’ll drive you.’
‘No. Stay. Have some decent food for a change.’
‘On my own? I’ll look like I’ve been stood up. I’ll drop you off then go for a pizza.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, genuinely meaning it.
‘Don’t be silly. This is the cheapest meal I’ve had out in ages.’
He flashed her his perfect smile which she couldn’t resist returning. Matilda promised herself she would make it up to him.
It was half past eight. Fortunately at this time of night on a week day there was very little traffic around so Matilda arrived at Heeley on the outskirts of the city centre in good time. There was nowhere for James to park, so he stopped in the middle of the road and put the hazards on. Matilda leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips.
‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. Now, go on, I can see Sian’s eyes burning into us.’ He gave the DS a wave through the windscreen. She waved back.
‘Don’t wait up.’
Matilda kissed him again then, reluctantly, got out of the car. She walked over to Sian and they watched James drive away.
‘That reminds me, I need a new hoover,’ Sian said.
‘What?’ Matilda frowned.
‘One with really good suction on it,’ she smiled.
‘Cheeky sod. I’m sure you and Stuart are still passionate.’
Sian rolled her eyes. ‘It depends how well England are playing at rugby.’
Matilda took in the scene surrounding the block of six apartments and blinked at the dazzling blue flashing lights on the police cars. She ducked under the police tape and looked up at the building. Lights seemed to be on in every room. The residents were obviously interested in the attention they were receiving from police. ‘What’s dragged me away from a four-course meal, then?’
‘Flat number one is registered to Caitlyn Brown. Police were called when her mother came running out of the flat screaming at eight o’clock this evening. According to a neighbour, she was rambling and inconsolable. Caitlyn was found dead in bed with a very nasty head injury.’
‘Where’s the mother now?’
‘She’s been taken to hospital and sedated.’
‘OK. Let’s take a look.’
Sian handed Matilda a paper forensic suit. ‘Not designer, I’m afraid.’
In the foyer of the building, Matilda struggled into the flimsy white suit. She was uncomfortable and the shoe covers wouldn’t fit properly over her Jimmy Choos.
Sian looked at her watch.
‘Don’t you roll your eyes at me,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m not dressed for this.’
The long hallway had three rooms leading off it: a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. As it was only a one-bedroom flat, the bathroom was en suite. Matilda looked into the living room as she passed. It was large and crowded with furniture. Several scene of crime officers snapped photographs and took samples of blood smears on the wall.
In the large bedroom a swarm of white-suited officers dusted for prints, took photographs, and sketched the scene. Leaning over the victim in the bed was pathologist Dr Adele Kean in a forensic suit.
‘Evening,’ Matilda said.
Adele stood up and revealed the victim to Matilda. The duvet had been pulled back and the young woman lay as if asleep in matching bra and pants. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her lips, as if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t want to wake up from. All Matilda could think of was what a shocking waste of a life it was.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought tonight was date night,’ Adele said.
‘It was but I made the mistake of telling Sian my plans, so she organized a nice murder to ruin it for me, didn’t you?’ Matilda turned to the DS who was smiling.
‘Listen, if I have to sit home every night and watch Emmerdale, so can you.’
‘Just wait until it’s your birthday,’ she said with a hint of a smile. She turned to Adele. ‘What can you tell me?’
Carefully, Adele leaned over the bed and slowly rolled Caitlyn onto her side to show Matilda the back of