Cold Grave (3 page)

‘It’s a good idea,’ Karen said. ‘We might just get lucky. If not, we can honestly tell the family we tried everything we could.’

2

A little while later, Doctor Novak called the time of death.

Karen peeled off her gloves. The team had exhausted themselves. The young body could not respond.

William received a call on his phone.

He ran his spare hand through his cowlicked fringe. ‘A family’s just reported a teenager missing. Apparently her bed wasn’t slept in. Name is Lilly Chan.’

Karen sighed. ‘That’s the worst part of this job. Let’s hope Wonder Boy over there handles it with a bit of sensitivity.’

It was one of the reasons Anya had chosen pathology as a profession. It meant being removed from breaking the initial bad news and not knowing the deceased personally. As a forensic physician, she now dealt with injuries in survivors, which could be traumatic, but was still preferable to breaking bad news to relatives.

The doctor sat on a chair nearby, scribbling notes on a small pad in between scratching his unshaven chin.

‘Wonder Boy?’ Anya asked.

‘I shouldn’t say that. He’s from Croatia. Resumé is impressive. He was a military surgeon. His forte is cutting. People skills don’t figure in his repertoire.’

Karen tucked an escaped part of her shirt back into her trousers. She was a solid woman, about five eight with broad shoulders, the type who could have been a swimmer in her youth. The roundish face and full cheeks made her age difficult to estimate, despite the absence of any make-up.

Martin stood, arms by his side, staring at the lifeless body on the deck. Anya noticed his hands were shaking. It had been a while since he had been involved in a cardiac arrest.

‘How about you? What branch of medicine are you in? And please don’t say psychiatry.’

‘Pathology and forensic medicine. By the way, I’m Anya and this is Martin.’

A man dressed in a navy jumper and white trousers arrived. He bent over the body and began to take notes.

‘That’s David FitzHarris, Head of Security,’ Karen explained.

Anya quietly asked if she could borrow the nurse’s phone.

‘Why?’

‘The girl was in the cupboard, soaking wet. Someone put her there. For legal reasons someone should document where and how she was found.’

The possibility of a suspicious death didn’t appear to have crossed the nurse’s mind. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a smartphone. ‘I’ll pass them on with my report. Bosses are obsessive about paperwork, and everyone up the chain will have to be informed.’

Anya photographed the body, oxygen mask and defibrillator pads. The area around the young mouth had become paler, and lips a deep blue. Next she took images of the open cupboard and the dishevelled towels on the top.

‘Ma’am, I’m afraid I’ll need that phone.’

The head of security raised his gaze to meet Anya’s. Ice blue eyes peered from beneath dark eyebrows, with an intensity that was designed to intimidate.

‘It’s OK, Fitz, this is the doctor who helped us in the resuscitation effort, and her ex-husband’s an intensive care nurse. They were invaluable.’

The head of security used a rail to pull himself up to his full height of six foot or so before obscuring the lens with one hand. ‘Ma’am, I still cannot allow you to take photographs.’

Karen sighed. ‘She’s a pathologist, Fitz, and it’s my phone. For the report.’ She leant back on her haunches and rummaged through the backpack. ‘I’ll need to get something to wash out Martin’s mouth. We need to take some baseline bloods as well.’

Anya had almost forgotten. Any infection the girl had could have been transferred to Martin. Hepatitis, HIV and even ulcer-causing bacteria may have been transmitted during mouth-to-mouth breathing. It would be months before they knew whether Martin was completely clear of infection. Anya couldn’t help but feel concerned.

‘What about Ben?’ Martin’s hands still had a fine tremor.

William returned to the rail to check. ‘He’s smitten with Olivia, it seems. They’re playing Uno and he seems to be winning. If you like, she can take him with her to the kids’ club, and you can pick him up anytime. Gives you a chance to do what you have to.’

‘He’d love that,’ Martin said. Anya had to agree.

William disappeared down the stairs.

Karen’s pager beeped. ‘I have to get back to the medical centre. We can take those bloods and clean your mouth now if you like.’ Martin obliged and followed her.

‘A pathologist.’ Fitz looked Anya up and down, as if to say she didn’t look like one. ‘I don’t need to explain that we require complete discretion in this matter. For the sake of the family.’

Equal amounts of silver and brown were scattered throughout his short back and sides, a contrast to the dark eyebrows. The cut had the hallmark of former army, or police. The spare tyre around his middle suggested it had been a while since he had seen active duty.

‘I appreciate that,’ Anya said, ‘but we also need to give as much information to the coroner as possible.’

He frowned and gestured toward the hot spa three metres to their right. ‘Body’s soaking wet. Are we looking at a drowning?’

‘The problem is that Lilly was found inside the towel cupboard.’ It seemed certain the girl would be identified as the missing Lilly Chan.

His frown released. ‘A reasonable point.’ He moved to the cupboard. Anya followed.

He curled his lip and covered his nose with a hand. ‘Fermented vomit, smells like a big night.’

Anya took the best image of the regurgitated stomach contents. Digested alcohol was sickly sweet, one of the less offensive odours associated with death. ‘It proves she was alive when she was put there.’

‘Assuming it was her vomit.’

Anya was taken aback. Two people would never have fitted in that small space.

‘Am just saying. Never assume in this business. Maybe she crawled inside.’

Fitz received a text on his phone. He took a deep breath. ‘We need to move this along. There are over three thousand passengers on board looking for the good time they paid for. We need to clear this deck asap.’

Anya could not believe his priorities. A young woman had just died, and he was more concerned with partying passengers. ‘If Lilly was so drunk that she crawled into a cupboard for shelter, would she have bothered lifting all the towels to the top? Surely she would have shovelled them out onto the deck, or covered herself, especially if she was cold and wet.’

He didn’t answer the question. ‘Any idea what time that might have been?’

‘There was a heart rhythm, but no effective output when we found her. We were focused with saving her life, not calculating her core temperature.’ Anya felt her face flush with frustration, and anger that they had failed. Normally, death didn’t bother her this much, but it was the last thing she had expected on a family cruise. No doubt Lilly’s family thought the same.

‘OK.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I understand this isn’t easy, and you didn’t sign up for this. But you have specialised expertise that can help. I’ve got limited resources and we’re all under pressure to sort this mess out as quickly as possible. On a cruise ship, life goes on.’ He sounded weary. ‘I’m sorry I seemed rude. I’m David FitzHarris.’

‘Karen mentioned that. I’m Anya. Crichton.’

His eyebrows arched. ‘Then I’m pleased to meet you. Everyone calls me Fitz.’

Anya’s focus turned to the dishevelled towels on top of the cupboard. The ones downstairs had all been cleared and replaced when they had arrived.

‘What time were the towels changed? That may give some kind of window. Maybe the cleaners saw something.’

‘I’ll find out.’ Fitz took notes. He moved closer, out of anyone’s hearing range.

‘Any suggestion of sexual assault?’

The thought had occurred to Anya when she suggested they try Flumazenil. Fitz’s phone rang. This time he ignored it.

‘Without an examination, it’s impossible to say. Even then, it won’t always be evident.’

Fitz moved back to Lilly and checked beneath the waistband of her jeans. ‘No underpants. We’ll have to ask the family if going commando was her thing.’

Anya’s heart sank. At least Doctor Novak wouldn’t know to raise the issue when he broke the news to the family. That discussion would be difficult enough.

Very little of the scene made sense. The girl was fully dressed, and soaking wet, as if she had been placed in the spa. Anya moved back, bent down and examined the girl’s fingers. She took some close-up images, then raised the hand to her nose.

‘What is it?’ Fitz approached.

‘I can’t smell chlorine.’

‘That rules out the spa . . . and any of the pools.’

She’d been soaked in fresh water. It hadn’t rained the preceding night.

‘Are there surveillance cameras up here?’

FitzHarris shook his head. ‘There used to be one with a view of the spas until some genius ordered a noticeboard in its place.’ His phone rang again. This time he answered and listened before hanging up.

‘Family are heading down to the medical centre to confirm the identity. Joggers and early risers are already out. We need to move her fast.’

A stretcher arrived with two crew members. There was little more Anya could do here now, and the small crowd around the towels had multiplied. Word, like infection, would spread quickly on a ship.

FitzHarris called over one of the security officers and they had a private word. Anya assumed he was leaving instructions about securing the scene.

‘Hey!’ A crew member pointed at a couple who had been snapping photos.

Anya shielded Lilly’s body as best she could while it was transferred to the orange stretcher. She covered the girl with some clean towels, and gently draped another around her hair. Only a portion of her face was exposed, so she would be less identifiable if anyone knew her. From a distance, Lilly could have been sleeping.

FitzHarris ordered a clear path to the service elevators and he remained at Lilly’s head. Anya noticed how he heavily favoured one leg. A permanent injury could explain why he worked on a cruise ship instead of on the front line of policing or military service.

Anya began to replace the unused backpack contents, and was joined again by William. ‘Please stop.’ He helped her up. ‘I’ll get someone to do that. You’ve done more than enough.’

Her own hands began to shake as her adrenalin levels dropped.

‘How about I grab you a coffee? You look like you could do with one.’

William was right. She hadn’t had breakfast and needed some sugar. ‘My bag—’

He grabbed it from a locked cupboard adjacent to the towel receptacle. ‘I brought it up when your son went to the kids’ club. He’s a good lad, by the way. They serve cookies, morning tea and other snacks down there so he’s well looked after. My guess is, he’ll never want to leave.’

A club with other children, games and biscuits would be Ben’s idea of pure heaven. Anya had hoped to spend as much time as possible with him on this cruise, but for now she was glad he was occupied. It also gave her a chance to check on Martin once his blood samples had been taken.

They headed to the adults-only coffee club at the other end of the ship. William ordered and chose a table that was both outside and private. Most passengers were still sleeping or having breakfast. The water was calm and the sun had now appeared in its glory, warming Anya’s skin.

‘Thanks for helping. You were so . . . controlled . . . it made a difference to the rest of us. I know Karen appreciated it.’

Medical emergencies early in Anya’s career had taught her never to show panic, no matter how she felt inside. As the doctor, other staff looked to her for instructions. If the person in charge panicked, the patient had little or no chance of surviving. Anya’s apparent calm during the emergency belied her heart rate and fear of losing the girl.

‘Looks can be deceiving.’

The warmth of the drink seemed to soothe every part of her. The breeze flicked strands of hair across her forehead. She appreciated the need to debrief. It was natural for people who had shared a traumatic experience.

‘May I ask you a question, William?’