by Luca Veste
‘People like her don’t just disappear,’ Charlie said, the stock pose back, more confident now. ‘Something happens to them. Or because of them. I’m just surprised she wasn’t found sooner.’
‘Well, we don’t know it’s her for certain yet…’
‘Yeah, because there’s loads of fat nineteen-year-old girls from Liverpool missing right now.’
Probably way more than you realise, Mark thought, but kept his mouth shut. He knew Charlie was trying to provoke a reaction from him. It seemed that was the trade when it came to teenagers. Always trying to get attention from you. Yet, it didn’t feel as real coming from this young lad. The lack of sympathy for Emily was jarring, but Mark thought it might all be part of the same act. ‘We’re doing all we can to get you and your family the answers quickly. These things take time though. I’m sorry.’
‘Doesn’t bother me. Won’t make much difference to my life if she’s here or not.’
Mark couldn’t work out why he would be saying this. A plea for attention? Wanting to be noticed? Or was there something else he wasn’t saying? ‘We haven’t really had a chance to talk.’
‘That’s because you’ve been too busy chatting up the sexy half of the twins,’ Charlie said, a wry smile appearing as he studied Mark’s face for a reaction. ‘It’s okay, I’m used to that by now. We all are. We know Stephanie is the star of the show in our family. Everyone can’t wait to speak to her. Didn’t expect you lot to be any different.’
Mark leaned back against the kitchen counter, struggling to keep his eyebrows from raising in surprise. He may not have had much to say the previous day, but it seemed Charlie had a lot of thoughts rolling around in his head. ‘You didn’t get on with Emily then?’
‘Can’t really speak ill of the dead, can I?’
‘We don’t know if it’s her yet…’
‘Yeah, yeah, we all have to wait around to find out,’ Charlie cut in, his voice affecting a mocking tone now. ‘I know how this works. She’ll have to be identified and then there’ll be a funeral and all of that. I just want it all to be over with already.’
Mark narrowed his eyes at the boy, but he couldn’t work out if this was unfocused anger. Grief. Or something more.
‘I guess she’s finally getting the attention she always wanted, anyway,’ Charlie continued, tapping fingers against the wall behind him. His eyes flicked from Mark’s towards the window and the uncle, still pacing outside. ‘A better kind of attention, anyway.’
Mark took note of the implication. ‘How did Emily get on with everyone? Your mum, your uncle?’
Charlie gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. ‘Everyone basically left her to it. She’d have tantrums sometimes, but she’d been quieter lately. I was glad of that. She didn’t have any friends. Maybe if she spent more time with people in real life, than online, it would be different. It’s not like anyone cares what I think anyway. As long as I’m going to school and keeping out of sight, everyone’s happy. No one gives one if I’m happy or not. It was all about the twins.’
‘Is your Uncle Rich around a lot?’
A shrug of the shoulders. ‘I don’t really notice anymore. I try and keep out of their way. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible.’
‘Still, it must have been a shock when Emily went missing.’
Charlie didn’t answer for a few seconds, looking away from Mark again. When he spoke, his voice had softened somewhat. ‘Not really. She is… she was… different. Always living in Stephanie’s shadow. Like we all were. Only it was probably harder for her. You ask me, if she didn’t top herself… if something actually happened to her, I wouldn’t go looking very far for answers.’
Mark watched as Charlie’s eyes flicked towards the back garden again. He turned to look and by the time he’d turned back around, Charlie had disappeared from the kitchen.
Mark turned back to the counter, glancing up at the window, averting his eyes when he saw the uncle outside.
Watching him.
Thirteen
The journey to the morgue had been quiet, the back of the car thick with tension. Mark was sitting in the passenger seat, Julie and Stephanie in the back. The driver had picked them up without a word, knowing this wasn’t the time to talk, thankfully. Before then, it had been a rough few hours back at the house, endless questions he couldn’t answer, thrown at him with increasing venom.
Charlie had skulked off back upstairs, which had been a relief. He knew he needed to speak to him more, but that morning wasn’t the time. He had been hesitant to leave him alone with the uncle, but a uniform was now at the house and would be on a more permanent basis, if his growing suspicion about Emily’s death was eventually confirmed.
He didn’t think it was suicide. Others would call it a gut feeling, but he just felt there was something more to this. The conversation with Charlie had helped bolster that idea. There was some part of the story he wasn’t quite seeing clearly.
Yet.
Now, this. A family IDing a body. Another of those parts of his jobs he hated the most.
At last count, there were at least seven or eight things he hated the most.
DI Bennett had told him over the phone that nothing had been found on the body. Not a broken phone, a purse; nothing personal at all. Mark could tell how odd his boss had found this, the items a nineteen-year-old girl – woman – was likely to have on her being missing. It meant that the search had been widened along the waterfront – he’d be helping out with that, as soon as he was finished with the family, he guessed.
It made sense why they hadn’t been able to track her phone to that location now. It was probably as dead as she was, travelling up the River Mersey, to somewhere it would never be found.
* * *
The car pulled to a stop in the hospital car park, Mark exiting and moving quickly to open the back door for the two women. They shuffled out, following close behind him as he led the way. He had done this a few times before, but he felt the same dread and anxiety as the first time he had done it. Knowing they would be looking to him afterwards for words of comfort and justice. For things he might not be able to give them.
Within a few minutes, they were waiting in a brightly lit corridor in the bowels of the hospital. Through double doors at the end lay a number of cold rooms, filled with the bodies of all those who had died in the past few days. He tried not to think of how many that would be, how many lay waiting behind thin doors. Instead, he talked Julie and Stephanie through what was going to happen next. Carefully, trying to keep them from not breaking down any further.
‘You’ll see her, you’ll be asked to confirm if it’s her or not. Don’t worry if you can’t. If you need to stop at any time, just tell me, or the coroner’s assistant who’ll be with us. If you need to take your time, that’s fine. If you don’t, that’s fine too. We’ll do this exactly how you need to.’
‘Will I be able to touch her?’ Julie said, her voice breaking, as Stephanie took hold of her hand. ‘I just want to hold her – would that be okay?’
Mark paused, knowing the answer he had to give, but not looking forward to the response to it. ‘I’m afraid not. It’s a case of not wanting to disturb any evidence. Hopefully that part will be cleared quickly. You’ll have the chance at some point.’
He knew the likelihood was that Julie would never touch her daughter again. That she wouldn’t be buried for a while and that it would be too late when the body was released to the family. Not that he thought it would stop her. She would need that final touch. That final contact. It would haunt her forever that she wouldn’t get it.
‘We don’t know if it’s her yet, Mum,’ Stephanie cut in, standing up from the chair and slouching against the wall opposite, repeating her now-familiar refrain. She’d been saying that a lot over the past couple of hours, as if doing so could make it true. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It could be someone else for all we know. It’s not like people haven’t made mistakes before.’
Mark
could feel Stephanie’s eyes on him, but he chose to look at Julie instead. She was staring at the floor, but he could still see the dark marks underneath her bloodshot eyes. Her hands were cradled together, almost clasped in prayer. ‘If you have any questions, just ask, okay, Julie? We want to make this as painless as possible.’
That earned a scoff from Stephanie, which Mark ignored. He knew he was there as support first and foremost, but also as a punching bag of sorts. He would have to take the anger and hurt the family would soon be feeling. The endless questions they would have. The answers he couldn’t provide, leaving him looking toothless and pointless.
That’s how it always was.
He wished he’d taken the previous day off work. Called in sick or something. Stayed in bed with Natasha and missed all of this entirely.
‘What’s taking so long?’ Stephanie asked, pushing herself away from the wall and walking towards the double doors separating them from the inner corridors of the morgue. Mark watched as she peered through the frosted glass. He didn’t make any move, knowing they were locked and she wouldn’t be able to get through.
‘They’ll be with us any minute,’ Mark replied, shifting forward in his seat. ‘They’ll be making sure everything is prepared for us to go in and out, that’s all.’
‘I’ve never seen a dead body before,’ Stephanie said, moving back towards them now. She swiped a hand through her blonde hair, pulling it back from her face. She let it linger on the back of her neck as she did so. ‘I don’t know what to expect.’
Her voice was quieter now and Mark could see the strain creeping into her otherwise flawless features. She didn’t have the same dark rings under her eyes as her mum, but for the first time, he could sense that the weight of holding things together was becoming a burden.
‘I have,’ Julie said, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Your nan. They never let me see your granddad, but I was with your nan at the end. And afterwards. I had to put her make-up on for the funeral because they didn’t do it right. Made her look like a clown. I couldn’t have her looking like that. She wouldn’t have liked what they did.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Stephanie replied, coming back to sit next to her mum. Mark stood up, moving away to give them some space. Not that he could go very far.
‘She was always particular about how she looked,’ Julie continued, still unmoved from her position. ‘It didn’t seem right that she went out looking less than perfect. It was only right. There’s so much to think about now. Everyone we’ll have to tell, the plans we’ll have to make, where we’ll have the wake, the church part… everything.’
‘Shush, Mum,’ Stephanie said, talking over her mother as she continued to mumble about the things she had to do. ‘We can sort all that out if we have to. We can’t get ahead of ourselves yet.’
Mark watched the two of them together, Stephanie comforting her mum as she continued to shut down. From the outside, if you couldn’t see the age difference, you’d be forgiven for thinking Stephanie was the older of the pair: the mother figure, comforting her daughter. Telling her everything was going to be all right, even when the evidence suggested otherwise. He imagined that in years to come, this would be a moment Stephanie would look back on as the time she really became an adult. She was about to turn twenty, but he didn’t really believe she would have experienced anything like what she was about to go through.
There was movement behind the doors and then they were pulled open, cool air rushing towards them. A woman in a long white coat, hair scraped back and glasses perched on her face, appeared and looked towards him first, then at the other two women.
‘You can follow me through now,’ she said, giving Mark a quick glance. ‘We’re ready for you.’
Julie got to her feet first, slowly and with a deep intake of breath. Stephanie followed her up, reaching out to grasp her mother’s hand. Mark fell into step behind the pair, then took hold of the door as the woman directing them moved ahead of the group.
They passed a few rooms on either side of the dimly lit corridor, the temperature seeming to drop with each step.
‘Here we are,’ the woman said, coming to a stop next to a viewing window. Mark leaned against the wall a few feet away from Julie and Stephanie, waiting to jump in if necessary. For now, he was content to stand back and try to not get in the way.
‘When you’re ready, he’ll pull the cover back and you’ll be able to see her,’ the assistant continued, her voice level and precise. ‘I’ll ask you to confirm if it is Emily or not.’
‘We can’t even be in the same room as her?’ Stephanie asked, almost aggressive in her tone. Mark could see it having no effect on the assistant though. He knew she would have been through worse. Much worse.
‘I’m afraid not,’ the assistant said, turning back to the window. ‘Just let me know when you’re ready.’
Stephanie looked towards her mother, who was refusing to look up. Her eyes were fixed to the floor, her head shaking from side to side. Mark wondered if she was ready for what was to come. If you could ever be ready for something like this.
‘Mum?’
‘Okay,’ Julie said after a few seconds, slowly lifting her head up, her voice cracking, tears springing to her eyes. ‘Please.’
Stephanie used both hands to hold on to her mum, as the assistant gave the nod to the man behind the window. He carefully removed the blanket covering the bump on the stretcher. Julie leaned forward half a step, peering towards the young woman lying there. Mark walked forward, in line with the women now, and waited.
There was a sharp intake of breath from Stephanie as the cadaver came into view. A noise escaped from Julie, a choked sob. Mark waited for the inevitable breakdown, the rush of emotion.
‘It’s not her,’ Stephanie said, soft and faltering. ‘That’s not Emily.’
‘Stephanie, don’t,’ Julie began, but she was frowning towards the woman on the table as well.
‘Mum, that’s not her, I can tell.’
‘This is a common reaction,’ the assistant said, moving closer to the two women. ‘Just make sure. Look at her and see if anything looks familiar about her.’
‘She’s about the same age, the same hair colour, but that’s about it,’ Stephanie said, becoming more sure of herself. ‘That’s not my sister. Mum, tell them. Tell them it’s not Emily.’
Julie’s hand was over her mouth.
‘Can we see her shoulder,’ Stephanie said suddenly, turning first to Mark, then the assistant and touching her own back. ‘She had a birthmark, like me, only bigger. We should be able to see that.’
Mark looked towards the assistant, who turned towards the window and motioned towards the guy next to the body. He turned the body over and moved the gown down over the woman’s back.
Stephanie made a noise at the back of her throat and staggered back. Julie collapsed to her knees, a mixture of sobs and incredulous laughter escaping from her.
‘It’s not her,’ she gasped. ‘Thank god, it’s not her.’
Mark’s eyes narrowed as the man behind the window dropped the body back on the gurney.
If it wasn’t Emily, where was she?
And whose body was this?
Fourteen
The atmosphere in the car was more charged than on the way to the hospital. Mark listened as Julie and Stephanie chatted animatedly in the backseat. The events of the past couple of hours seemed to have reinvigorated them somehow. As if before there was no hope, but now anything was possible.
Like Emily had been brought back to life.
Mark had heard Julie call the big fella, Uncle Rich, first, almost breathless with excitement as she’d informed him. A short, punctured conversation with her other child followed. The content didn’t seem to go much further than Your sister’s alive! before the phone had been handed back to Rich.
He was itching to get back so he could speak with DI Bennett and find out what the hell was going on. Why no one had checked the body for a birthmark. If they even k
new she’d had one. He’d managed less than a minute on the phone to her earlier, giving her the update on the body’s identification. An expletive-ridden ten seconds had followed, before she’d ended the call abruptly.
It wasn’t going to be as easy as they’d hoped.
‘Do you know who it could be then?’ Stephanie said, leaning forward, her head between the seats in front.
‘We’re going to find that out now,’ Mark replied, propping an elbow on the passenger window lip and turning slightly to face Stephanie. ‘I’m just sorry you both had to go through that. I can promise you that it’s never happened to me before.’
‘It’s not your fault. We’re just relieved it wasn’t Emily.’
‘Still… that’s not an experience I enjoy inflicting on people.’
Stephanie caught his eye and held it. ‘We’re just happy to have you supporting us through this. Isn’t that right, Mum?’
Julie hummed a reply, her gaze fixed to the mobile phone screen in her hand. He glanced her way, wondering how long this change in her would last.
Mark didn’t think it would be long before they would be returning to the hospital. He couldn’t work out why he felt that way.
Maybe it was the fact that the dead girl in the morgue had been found within shouting distance of where Emily’s blood had been found.
‘Did she look familiar at all to you?’ Mark said, turning in his seat as far as his seatbelt would allow him. ‘Did you recognise her? Maybe you’ve seen her somewhere else, or with someone?’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘I couldn’t really tell what she looked like – she didn’t look good. There wasn’t much to see.’
Even despite the coroner’s best efforts, the young woman at the morgue was in a terrible state. A fall from a height had a way of changing the look of someone.
At least it hadn’t been face first, Mark thought. It would have been a much longer wait to find out it wasn’t Emily. He wondered what the family of the actual victim was going through now. Whether they even knew their daughter, their sister, their granddaughter, was missing and now dead.