Indefensible (DI Sara Ramsey Book 12), M Comley [world of reading TXT] 📗

“Thanks. I’d suggest you get out of your protective suit first.”

Carla glanced down at the rustling suit and then back up at Sara. “Yeah, I had every intention of doing that. Good luck.”

“You too. I hope the exercise proves helpful, although judging by what Mrs Fellows told me, I very much doubt it.”

“We can but try.”

Sara watched Carla head back to the car and slip off her suit before she entered the house again. “How are you getting on? Almost finished?”

Lorraine was crouching, examining the victim. She stood and joined Sara. “I think I’m about done. I was just doing a final on-site assessment.”

“Good.”

“Why the rush?” Lorraine queried.

Sara sighed and let out another long breath. “Her son is on his way.”

“Christ, you work quickly. Glad you managed to track him down. I did take a peek at the phone and wrote down a few numbers for you in case your trip next door didn’t bear any fruit.”

Sara issued her a half-smile. “Her son is a copper. I need you to get her out of here before he steps foot in the place. I know I wouldn’t want to see my mum lying there cut to ribbons.”

“Shit! I’m on it. What a shock for him.”

“Definitely. I’ll wait outside while you organise your team.”

“We’ll be done in five minutes max, I promise. He won’t see her, not like this, not if I have my way.” She turned away from Sara and shouted instructions to her team. One of them ran past Sara out to the van and returned carrying a zipped body bag.

Sara paced the doorway, glancing over her shoulder at the tender way Lorraine was treating the corpse in spite of her need to carry out the task swiftly. The zipper sounded as a car drew to a screeching halt at the edge of the cordon.

A man Sara recognised from the station dipped under the cordon but was stopped by one of the uniformed officers. Val’s son lashed out and shouted, “That’s my fucking mother in there, let me through or I’ll report you.”

Sara trotted over to the scene and stretched out her hand for him to shake. “Roger, I’m DI Sara Ramsey, please, try to keep your temper in check.”

“I can do without the advice. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“Actually, you don’t. But I agreed to you coming here. The pathologist is about to move your mother, will you be okay with that?”

“Of course I will. I want to see her.”

Sara shook her head slowly. “I promise you, you wouldn’t want to see her, not the way she is. Let the pathologist and her team clean your mother up first.”

He took a few steps towards the house and stopped dead in his tracks. The front door opened and two of Lorraine’s team carried the body bag out and placed it in the back of one of the vans.

Sara stared at Roger, gauging his reaction. He watched in disbelief and rocked back and forth on his feet as if tempted to push past Sara to get to his mother before rethinking the notion.

“Do you want to sit in the car and discuss this?” Sara suggested, placing a hand on his forearm.

“No. I want to see her.” His gaze never left the van.

“Roger, you can’t, you know the procedures where a victim of a violent crime is concerned.”

He buried his head in his hands and crumbled before her eyes. Sara’s gaze darted around the crowd for Carla. Where was her partner when she needed her the most? She spotted her over the other side of the road, talking to one of the neighbours, seemingly oblivious to what Sara was dealing with. She flung an awkward arm around Roger’s shoulders and tried to coerce him back to his vehicle. He stood his ground, his hands now down by his side, staring at the van again.

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” he whispered. His shoulders trembled with emotion under Sara’s grasp.

“I know. Come on, let’s get you in the car.” She swivelled him and thankfully, he didn’t put up a fight. They reached the squad car and Sara opened the back door. She placed a hand over his head, shielding it from the roof of the car, and then ran around the other side and got in the back beside him. “Are you going to be all right?”

“I don’t know, am I?” he retorted, turning to face her.

“It’s tough to see. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I know exactly what you’re going through.”

His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her. “Do you?”

“Yes, my brother was murdered recently and I was the one who found his body. That’s why I didn’t want you to see her. Please try and remember her the way she was.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed to form. He pressed his lips together again and gulped.

She ploughed on, “I have to ask you a few questions, are you up to it?”

“If I have to. I want to find out what happened as much as you do.” He gulped a few times.

“Has your mother mentioned recently if she’s felt unsafe in her own home?”

He shook his head and said adamantly, “No. If she had, do you think she’d still be living here, alone? A member of my family visited her every day. My daughter came by after college this evening. She was well loved. I pleaded with her to come and live with us, but she was eager to maintain her independence and now… she’s no longer with us. What happened to her? I have to know. I can take it, I’m stronger than I look.”

“We believe it might have been a burglary gone wrong. Your mother was stabbed several times. If it’s any consolation, the pathologist reckons she would have died after the first couple of stabs.”

“Hearing that is no consolation at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you propose doing about this, Inspector? Did any of the neighbours