Cruel Justice (DI Lorne Simpkins (Book one)) (3 page)

"How can you tell?" Lorne asked, mystified by his assumption.

"I believe I've said too much already. It's pure conjecture at this moment in time. I'll let you know after the post-mortem," Arnaud informed her offhandedly.

"Do you mind if I'm present at the post-mortem, Dr?"

"It's your prerogative as leading investigator on the case, is it not? Now, if you don't mind, I still have quite a lot of work to do here."

Lorne and Pete stepped outside the tent.

"God, he can be such a prick at times," Pete complained.

"Yeah, a giant one, but he's the best around. Unfortunately the arrogant git is aware of that. I suspect that's why he thinks he can treat everybody else at the scene as imbeciles. Come on, let's get back, see what the kids have to say?"

"We've just got to make a slight detour," Pete reminded her.

"Oh no you don't, Pete. I can sort Tom out without any outside influences. Thanks all the same. What were you doing when you got the call?"

"Nothing much. Having a couple of beers and enjoying an episode of
CSI
on the box."

"You're pathetic, you know that? You watch
CSI
and all the blood and guts that entails, but when you're faced with a real corpse you nearly pass-out. You're such an idiot," she said, playfully punching his arm as they made their way back to their cars.

Pete had been blessed with a face only a mother could love, and a body most women shied away from, girlfriends had been low down on his agenda for years. He'd recently confided in Lorne that the last date he'd had was fifteen years ago. The relationship had turned sour quickly and he swore blind that he'd never be taken for a fool again. He had stopped short of telling her why his relationship had come to an abrupt end.

 "Telly's different to real life though, ain't it?"

"You mean you can watch TV through your fingers!" She laughed at the image she'd conjured up. "You do know the cases portrayed in those programmes are all based on actual events, don't you?"

"You're pulling my wotsit. How do ya know that?"

"It's at the end in the credits. It states that
Michael
Baden
is an advisor on the show." She didn't have a clue if this was true on every episode, but the odd one she'd managed to catch had shown his name.

"And who the hell might this
Michael
Balden
be?"

"
Baden,
that's
B A D E N. Dr
Michael
Baden.
He's only one of the world's leading forensic pathologists. But I wouldn't expect you to know that. You just watch the damn programmes and don't think about all the work and research that goes in to them."

"All right,
Mrs
Know
It
All.
Sometimes you're just too smart for words."

"And that my dear, Pete, is why I'm DI and you're still a sergeant," she joked, knowing that if he wanted to pursue promotion, he could achieve it standing on his head. He was the type of person who couldn't be bothered going for promotion, the force was full of them. That, plus the fact he enjoyed being her partner and they were regarded as one of the best teams in the Met.

They left in their respective vehicles, Lorne, in her Vauxhall Vectra family car, watched and shook her head as Pete drove away in his beat-up old Lada that looked and sounded more like a Sherman tank. His pride and joy, the best five hundred quid he'd ever spent, he told her daily. Lorne usually retaliated by saying the salesman must have laughed like a crazed man, the day Pete Childs drove that monstrosity off his forecourt.

As Lorne pulled away from the scene, her mobile rang. She glanced at the caller ID before answering it, if it had been Tom she would have ignored it and thought up an excuse for not answering it by the time she got home.

"Hi, Sis. What's up?" she asked jovially.

"We've had Tom on the phone for the past fifteen minutes, what the hell have you done to him? The poor man's distraught —"

"Take a breath for Christ's sake, Jade."

She heard her sister take some heavy breaths before continuing. "Why did you do it, Lorne? How could you do such a thing, and to your husband of all people?" Her tone suggested she was straining to keep calm. Jade thought the world of Tom and tended to side with him whenever they argued.

Exhaling a deep breath, Lorne indicated and flashed Pete's car, letting him know she was pulling over. Pete slowed and pulled in a couple of hundred yards ahead.

 "Jade, calm down. Look I can't deal with this right now, I'm on a case. We've just discovered a body in the woods."

"Jesus, woman is that all that matters to you, your bloody work? What about your marriage? It's falling apart at the seams, can't you see that?"

"Hardly, Jade. One argument and you think we're heading for the divorce courts. Tom and I are having a few problems at the moment granted, but we'll sort them out without any well-meaning interference from others."

"So, now you're telling me to keep my nose out. That it's none of my business you physically attacked your child's father."

"Umm … Slight exaggeration. Is that on your part or Tom's, I wonder?" Anger made Lorne's pulse quicken.
What the hell is Tom playing at? Involving Jade in their domestic dispute. What a truly selfish bastard he is
.

"What do you mean by that? God if that man only knew what you did behind his back last year —"

"That's enough, Jade. You promised me you'd never bring that up again. No need to ask where your loyalties lie, is there? Oh, and by the way, I don't suppose Tom happened to admit to you, when he was busy running me down, that he hit
me
and split my eyebrow open?"

Jade gasped. Then silence.

Lorne spoke softly, the last thing she wanted was to fall out with her sister, whom she'd always been really close to. "Listen, sweetie, I know you mean well, but this is something Tom and I have to sort out by ourselves. Oh, I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking, it was an accident," she added, and laughed gently.

"Oh, Lorne, can you ever forgive me?"

"What's to forgive? It's forgotten already. Just promise me that you'll get both sides of the story next time before having a go at me. And, not to refer to that little misdemeanour again. Look, I've gotta go, I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"I promise. I'm sorry. Be careful out there." It was a saying her family had picked up from watching
Hill Street Blues
years ago. They'd said it every day their father left the house when they were kids. He had reached DCI during his time in the Met.

When her sister had hung up Lorne was tempted to ring Tom and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that would only do more damage. She'd deal with him in her own time. His selfishness was really starting to annoy her. At the moment, she got the impression she had more support from her five-year-old bra, than the husband who had promised to love, honour and cherish her.

She flashed her lights at Pete and pulled out.

* * * *

Back at the station, the desk sergeant informed them that the kids who had discovered the body were in interview rooms one and two.

"The girl's quite distraught and she's been seen by the police doctor. He's given you the green light to question her for a few minutes," the sergeant said.

 Lorne wondered if the doctor realised they were dealing with a murder enquiry.

"I'll take the boy, you can have the girl," she told Pete, outside room one.

"Cheers, boss. That's the thanks I bloody get for giving up my evening off?" he moaned under his breath.

"Stop whinging and get on with it. Be gentle with her. And listen to what she has to say, don't make any snap judgements."

"That's like telling my grandma how to suck eggs, I ain't new to this game, ya know."

"I know that. But you're interviewing techniques lately haven't exactly been by the book have they, Pete?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Point taken. But I'm not likely to give a distraught female a clout round the ear, now am I?"

 As Lorne stepped into the interview room Todd Altman looked up. She pulled out the chair opposite him.

"Hi, Todd, I'm DI Lorne Simpkins. Look, I know how difficult this must be and I'd like to thank you for helping us with our enquiries. I've just got a few questions and then you'll be free to go."

"I've told your
mates
everything I know. When can Zoe and me go home?" he asked, firmly gripping his cup of coffee. His hand was shaking so much that the coffee splashed out of his cup.

Lorne felt sorry for the nineteen-year-old, who appeared to be traumatised, but trying hard to disguise it. His red eyes showed how much he had cried in the last hour or so.

"Soon, I promise," she said. "Now, what were you doing in the forest at that time of night?"

He glanced over at the male officer standing in the far corner for help.

Lorne followed his gaze and saw the officer shrug.

"Todd?"

The teenager shuffled his feet nervously and Lorne got the impression he was too embarrassed to confide in her. She smiled reassuringly to put him at ease.

He cleared his throat before replying, "Zoe and me go there ev'ry Thursday, it's the only place we can be alone, if you know what I mean?"

"I think I get the picture. I can think of more comfortable places to have sex though, especially in the middle of a storm. Do you still live at home, Todd?"

"Yeah, I do. So? What's that gotta do with anythin'?" he asked defensively.

"Do your parents know that you go down the woods to play? Furthermore, do
you
know that it's an offence to have sexual intercourse in a public place?" she stated, slapping the teenager down.

"I know, I'm sorry. You're not gonna arrest me for that, are ya?"

Lorne fought hard to suppress a smile. "No, we won't be arresting you this time, Todd. But in future watch where you sow your oats, okay?"

"Yes, miss, no fear of that, miss. After finding that body, my oat sowing days in open places are well and truly over."

His relief was evident and for the first time Lorne noticed the sparkle in his baby blue eyes.

"How was the body when you found it?" The lad smirked and she sensed he was going to give her a wise-arse response, so she promptly rephrased her question. "I mean, was the body buried or exposed?"

"It was covered with leaves when Zoe stumbled over it. Something spooked her, she took flight and kicked it while she was running. She said the forest had an eerie feel tonight. She doesn't usually complain." He took a sip of his coffee.

Lorne's notebook lay open in front of her but remained empty. She had a sinking feeling this interview was going to be a complete waste of time.

"When was the last time you and Zoe visited the woods?"

"Last week, I think."

"I need honest answers, Todd. Was it last week or not?"

"Yeah, it was last Thursday. The weather was better then. I wish we hadn't gone down there tonight, that's for sure."

"Did you see anyone else in the woods?"

"I don't think so."

Think, Todd, it's important, it could be vital to the case." Lorne urged the youngster and watched as his expression showed signs of pain.

"Nope, don't remember seeing anyone. Can we go now? You won't tell our parents, will you?"

Lorne let out a dissatisfied sigh. "You can go, but if you think of anything, anything at all, ring me. Okay?" She pushed back her chair and handed him one of her cards.

There was no point hanging onto the kids. She tapped on the door to the other interview room and asked Pete to join her in the corridor.

"Did you get anything out of the girl?"

"Not even a tadpole of a clue. She cried, then bawled, then cried some more. Total waste. How about you?" her frustrated partner asked, as he pulled his trousers up by the waistband.

"About the same. Let's get shot of them and grab a coffee before doctor Arnaud summons us. You losing weight, Pete?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Fat chance," he replied before returning to the room. She watched from the door as he gave the girl one of his cards. Zoe burst into tears again and Lorne sent Todd in to calm her down.

* * *

"How you feeling?" Pete asked tentatively, when they reached the canteen.

"Thanks for asking, Pete, but I'm fine."

Lorne intentionally avoided his eyes, but Pete refused to let the matter drop. They had a good working relationship. They'd been together for four years and knew each other well. Too well at times.

"Why did he do it?" he asked, concern showing in his voice.

She knew what Pete thought of men who lashed out at their wives, and suspected Tom, a close friend of his, had ultimately gone down in his estimation.

"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind," she said, her head down as she absently played with her cup.

Pete held up his hands in surrender — he knew when to back off, knew how stubborn she could be. "Okay, boss. But you know where I am if you want to unburden yourself."

"Thanks, partner." She smiled but it failed to reach her eyes. Lorne reached across the table and patted his hand.

 Their partnership was strong, one built on trust and understanding. Lorne regarded him as a brother. Teasing him one minute, then shouting at him the next, she kept him grounded. He was the kind of cop who jumped in feet first, whereas Lorne was the one who took two steps back and analysed cases logically. Between them they'd had a balanced partnership that over the years had served them, and the Met well.

A couple of uniformed officers joined them and not long after Lorne's mobile received the message they'd been waiting for.

"Arnaud awaits, Pete. You ready for this?"

"Far from it," he mumbled, pushing back his chair.

"Come on, let's get it over with." She matched his reluctance to get to the post-mortem suite, and shuddered at the thought of spending the next three or four torturous hours with doctor Arnaud.

Chapter Three