‘We are pretty certain it is,’ Nick replied. ‘The description fits.’ He turned to his colleague. ‘What about the family?’
‘They are being informed now that a body has been found,’ Terry Payne replied.
‘Who are the family?’ asked Rachel, turning to Nick.
‘Well, we need positive identification, of course, but if this is indeed the missing girl her name is Kaylee Munns and her family live up on the Charlwood Estate.’
‘Oh.’ Rachel looked up sharply. ‘You mean...?’
‘Yes.’ Nick nodded. ‘Where I used to live. That’s what you meant, wasn’t it?’
‘No, not really.’ Rachel felt colour touch her cheeks. ‘I was merely indicating that I knew where it was.’
A little later, after Rachel had signed the necessary forms certifying the death the forensics team arrived and Nick escorted Rachel back to her car. ‘I’ll go up and see the family later,’ he said.
‘Would you like me to come with you?’ asked Rachel as she sat in the passenger seat of her car and drew off her boots.
‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ Nick replied. ‘It’s a dire business after something like this.’
‘I think the Munns family is registered at the centre,’ said Rachel. ‘I’m pretty certain I’ve seen records with that name. What time would you like me to go up there?’
‘Well, we’ll need formal identification first.’ Nick paused. ‘I would think it would be some time this evening—is that OK?’
‘Of course,’ she replied briskly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘I’ll phone you first then I’ll pick you up.’
‘There’s no need...’
‘It’s no problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to see the family anyway. Thanks for your help, Rachel—I’ll see you later.’
‘Yes, all right, Nick.’ She nodded then watched him as he turned and walked away back across the tarmac to the police vehicles. And still it rained, heavy, relentless, driving rain that surely would wash away any clues there might have been in the surrounding area as to how that poor girl had met her death. To Rachel’s experienced eye it was all but certain that she had met a violent death, something which, no doubt, in the next few hours a pathologist would confirm. And if that proved to be the case then it was down to Nick and his colleagues to find her killer. With a sigh Rachel stowed her boots and jacket in the boot of her car then slipped behind the steering-wheel and started the engine.
On her return to the centre she called Julie to the desk. ‘Julie,’ she said, ‘is the Munns family registered with us?’
‘The Charlwood Estate Munns?’ asked Julie.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Yes, they are. In fact, they are registered with Dr O’Malley so they will be under your care at present. Do you want their records?’
‘Yes, please.’ It made life easier that she and not one of the partners was responsible for the family in question—not that any of them would have objected to her attending them at a time such as this, but it saved a lot of explaining. ‘Thanks, Julie,’ she said as the receptionist passed a bundle of records across the desk.
‘Have they found her—Kaylee Munns?’ Julie leaned across the desk conspiratorially.
‘Sorry, Julie, you know I can’t answer questions like that.’ Rachel turned and made her way to her consulting room. Once inside she closed the door and after sitting down at her desk began to go through the records. Kaylee had been seventeen years old and her notes showed little other than the usual child ailments and mention of infantile eczema. She had also started taking the Pill at fifteen. The second set of notes were for Kaylee’s mother, Donna Munns, and there was rather more information on her. Rachel learned that she was a smoker and suffered from recurrent chest infections, that she had suffered a miscarriage before Kaylee had been born and postnatal depression following the birth of Kaylee and again two years later on the birth of Kaylee’s sister, Celine. There was little on Celine save that she was asthmatic and received regular prescriptions for cortiscosteroid inhalers. She, too, had recently gone on the Pill. There did not seem to be any notes for a Mr Munns and on closer examination of Donna’s records Rachel found that she had been treated for depression following the break-up of her marriage six years previously. It wasn’t much but it helped to outline the medical history of the family so that Rachel knew what she might be dealing with when she visited the family later that evening.
She wished now that she’d told Nick that she would meet him there—she didn’t really want him picking her up from home. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way but suspected when she tried to analyse her reasons that it was to do with her earlier resolve of keeping her dealings with Nick on a strictly professional basis. She didn’t want any more from this man who had once meant the whole world to her and who still, after all this time, had the power to make her heart leap at the sight of him, or to make her knees go weak at the sound of his voice. He had hurt her badly then, had let her down when she had fondly believed that he thought as much of her as she did of him. And there was no guarantee that given half a chance he wouldn’t do the same thing again. She knew if she had any sense at all she would be well advised to keep him at arm’s length.
So why was it that, on her return home that evening, she was on edge waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for Nick to tell her that he would shortly be picking her up? At last when the phone did ring and she grabbed it, once again, as on that previous occasion, the caller remained silent before hanging up. She gazed at the phone in exasperation then dialled the number to find out who had called, only to be told that the caller had withheld their number. Slowly she replaced the handset. It was the second time that had happened but, she reasoned, it could be someone trying to contact the owners of St Edmund’s, not realising they were away. Not that that should prevent them from speaking. It was irritating to say the least but not something that she could do much about.
When the phone did ring again she answered it in some trepidation, once again to find that it wasn’t Nick on the other end of the line.
‘Jeremy!’ she exclaimed, not sure whether she was pleased or annoyed to hear from him at that particular moment.
‘Was just wondering how you are,’ he said.
‘I’m fine, Jeremy, fine—how are you?’
‘Yes, pretty good,’ he replied. ‘Everything is much the same here. So how are you finding Westhampstead? Has it changed much from how you remember it?’
‘In some ways, yes, in others not at all,’ she said. ‘But it’s been nice to catch up with old friends. Listen, Jeremy, did you ring just now—about half an hour ago?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, no reason really. Someone rang and didn’t leave their number, that’s all.’
‘Annoying, that,’ he said, ‘but, no, it wasn’t me. I’ve only just come in and I thought I’d give you a ring, have a chat, see how you’re getting on, that sort of thing.’
‘That’s nice.’ She paused. ‘But actually, Jeremy, do you think we could talk at some other time? I could ring you back later tonight if you like, otherwise maybe tomorrow evening. You see—’
‘Going out on the town, are you?’
‘No,’ she said quickly, ‘well, yes, I am going out, but not on the town. I have to go out on police business—I’m waiting for a call now to give me details.’
‘So you’re still involved in police work, then?’
‘Yes, the partner I’ve taken over from was police doctor for this area and as I was involved in that sort of work before, it seemed logical. Besides, I enjoy it.’
‘Wouldn’t do for me,’ said Jeremy. ‘All those night call outs just to deal with a bunch of drunks.’
‘It isn’t all like that,’ Rachel protested. ‘Some of the cases are very interesting.’
‘What’s tonight’s excitement, then?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Didn’t you just say you were going out on police
business tonight?’
‘Oh. Yes.’ She hesitated then decided it was probably all right to talk to a fellow doctor. ‘A body was found this afternoon. I was called to certify the death.’
‘Suspicious circumstances, was it?’
‘It looks like it, yes.’
‘So what do you have to do tonight?’
‘I’m visiting the girl’s family.’
‘Rather you than me.’
Suddenly she could picture Jeremy’s expression and for some reason the image irritated her. ‘Yes, well,’ she said briskly, ‘someone has to do it.’
‘Just make sure you take care if there’s some sort of nutter at large.’
‘Oh, I’ll be all right,’ she said quickly. ‘The local DCI is picking me up and taking me to the house.’
‘Very obliging of him—do they usually do that?’
‘Er, no, not really.’ She swallowed. ‘I happen to know him, so I expect that’s got something to do with it. But I really must go. Shall I ring you back later?’
‘If you like,’ he replied. ‘I’ll probably be here. Bye, now.’
‘Bye, Jeremy.’ She hung up, wondering what Jeremy was thinking, but there was little time for much speculation for almost immediately her doorbell rang and she hurried into the hall to answer it. Tugging open the door, she found Nick on the doorstep and her heart did its usual gymnastics.
‘Nick...you were going to ring...’
‘Your phone was engaged,’ he said, stepping into the hall and shutting the door behind him, ‘and your mobile was switched off.’
‘Sorry,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I won’t keep you a minute. I’ll just get a coat...’
‘Do you make a habit of doing that?’ he asked as she turned from the hall cupboard after retrieving a coat.
‘What?’ She frowned, wondering to what he was referring.
‘Opening the door after dark when you don’t know who’s there.’
‘Well...no, actually, I don’t.’ Suddenly she felt flustered, as if he’d caught her out in some serious misdemeanour. ‘I usually have the door on the chain.’
‘But tonight you didn’t?’ he said coolly.
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘tonight I didn’t.’
‘That’s all it takes, Rachel.’
‘I know, I know—I’ll take more care in future.’
‘You must,’ he said grimly, ‘especially now.’
Rachel was struggling into her coat but she paused and looked at him. ‘Have you had the pathologist’s report yet?’
‘No, not yet.’ He stepped forward to help her, easing her coat over her shoulders. ‘But I would say it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion, wouldn’t you? The semi-naked body of a young girl is found and there are signs of violence and sexual assault.’
Rachel gave an involuntary little shiver. ‘Have you had formal identification yet?’
‘Yes.’ He opened the front door. ‘It is Kaylee Munns, so the sooner we get up to see her family the better.’
The rain had subsided to a light drizzle as Rachel and Nick left the house and in Nick’s dark saloon drove out of Cathedral Close and joined the main road that ran through the centre of town.
‘That’s a nice house you have there,’ he commented as he drove.
‘Oh, it isn’t mine,’ said Rachel quickly. ‘I’m only renting it. It belongs to friends of my parents—they are abroad at the moment. But you’re right, it is a nice house. In fact, it’s so nice I won’t want to leave it when my year is up.’
‘So what will you do when your year is up?’ He spoke lightly but Rachel detected a slight edge to his voice.
‘I’m not sure really, go back to Stockport probably.’
‘And to Jeremy?’
‘Yes...probably.’
‘You don’t sound very sure.’
She shrugged and gazed out of the window at the lighted windows of the high street shops. She didn’t want to talk about Jeremy and what might happen if she returned to Stockport—somehow she couldn’t even visualise it.
‘Was it Jeremy you were talking to?’
‘I’m sorry?’ She turned her head and looked at his profile, that same profile she had once never tired of gazing at.
‘When I was trying to get through to you and your phone was engaged?’
‘Oh, that,’ she said. ‘Yes, that was Jeremy.’
‘Missing you, is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replied truthfully. ‘He didn’t really say.’
‘I’m amazed he’s let you come,’ he said after a moment. ‘There aren’t many men who would let their woman out of their sight for a whole year.’
‘Maybe not.’ She shrugged again. ‘But like I said, this year is meant to be a testing time—a trial separation, if you like,’ she added with a touch of desperation, wanting him to understand but not knowing why it should matter so much to her that he should.
He gave a short laugh. ‘In my book, there’s no such thing,’ he said. ‘When couples start talking of trial separations it means one thing. As far as I’m concerned, it simply prolongs the agony.’
‘So you’re of the clean-break brigade?’ she asked coolly. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Absolutely,’ he replied.
Yes, she thought bitterly, staring ahead and becoming mesmerised by the steady sweep of the windscreen wipers, that’s what you did to me.
They were silent for a while as Nick negotiated the car round a series of roundabouts then took the Charlwood exit. ‘Does he know about me?’ he asked a little later.
Instinctively Rachel knew he was referring to their past relationship and not their current acquaintance. ‘I may have mentioned you.’ Rachel swallowed. ‘Yes, now I think about it, I did tell him that there was once someone from home...’
‘Is that all I’d become—someone from home?’ There was real bitterness in his tone now and it stung Rachel to a sharp retort.
‘Well, I doubt you talked much to Marilyn about me,’ she said, ‘apart from being someone you once knew.’
‘It was a bit different with Marilyn,’ he replied tersely.
‘Oh? And why was that?’ She could barely keep the sarcasm from her voice.
‘Marilyn knew you and she knew all about us.’
‘How did she know about us?’ Rachel frowned in the darkness.
‘Our mothers were friends, neighbours,’ he replied. ‘Marilyn was always in our house when we were growing up. She might have seen you, or, if not, my mother would have told her mother about you.’
Silently Rachel digested that particular piece of information, trying to remember if Marilyn Rooney had indeed been around when she had visited Nick’s home. ‘Did she always have a crush on you?’ she asked curiously at last.
‘So I’m told.’ He paused. ‘She always thought you’d taken me away from her.’
‘And had I?’ She turned and stared at him again. She couldn’t see his features in the darkness but she sensed the way his jaw had tightened.
‘Of course not,’ he retorted. ‘Marilyn may have had a crush on me in those days, but she was just a kid. I never started seeing her until long after you and I—’
‘But there were others,’ she said quickly. ‘After me, I mean.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘One hears these things.’ She shrugged again, remembering the pain she’d felt when her mother had told her about various girls Nick had been seen with.
‘Well, maybe there were,’ he said, ‘but, as we’ve already said, it was all a long time ago.’
By this time they had reached the vast Charlwood Estate, which covered many acres of land to the east of Westhampstead. Nick drove in silence past rows of houses and tenement blocks and a lighted shopping mall where groups of youths loitered outside and young boys played on skateboards.
‘It seems strange to be up here again,’ said Rachel as the road wound round to the left and they drove past the house where Nick had lived as a boy with his
family. ‘Do any of your family still live here?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘There was only my sister after Mum died and she’s now married and living in London.’ He paused then went on, ‘Now, we want Greystone Avenue and, if my memory serves me right, that is over here...’ He turned and after driving for about a hundred yards they saw two police vehicles parked beneath a streetlight outside a row of terraced houses. ‘That’s it,’ he said drawing up behind the cars. ‘Number 86.’
He switched off the engine and glanced at Rachel. ‘Are you ready for this?’ he asked quietly. ‘It could be pretty harrowing.’
‘Nick, I’m a doctor,’ she said firmly.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I know. I’m sorry. I guess I still thought you needed protecting.’
‘Come on, let’s get on with it. It won’t be pleasant but that’s what we’re here for.’
Together, they climbed out of the car and walked towards the house.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE door was opened by a uniformed police officer who showed Nick and Rachel into the family living room where a woman and a young girl were huddled together on a settee. A WPC was sitting beside them while a man, who could have been anywhere in age from thirty to forty, paced the room, turning as they entered, one hand at the back of his neck in a gesture that suggested helplessness. The woman on the settee looked haggard from lack of sleep and red-eyed with weeping. The girl was sobbing uncontrollably.
‘Mrs Munns—Donna.’ Nick crouched in front of the two as the WPC stood up and moved away. As Donna looked up, he went on, ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Kowalski and this is Dr Beresford from the Westhampstead group practice.’
The dull expression in Donna Munns’s eyes suggested that there was no one who could help her now because the worst had happened.
‘Hello, Donna, hello, Celine,’ said Rachel gently, glancing from the older woman to the girl at her side. ‘I’m so very sorry to hear about Kaylee and I know there isn’t much I can say that will be of any help. Your own doctor, Dr O’Malley, is away at the moment, so that’s why—’
‘She only went to a club for the evening.’ Donna interrupted Rachel in mid-sentence and her expression was as if she hadn’t heard a word the doctor had said. ‘She had a new sparkly top to wear,’ she went on in the same flat tone. ‘I told her not to be late. She laughed and told me that I worry too much, that...that she’d be all right...Oh, God!’ She put one hand, which shook uncontrollably, over her mouth as if what had happened was only just beginning to sink in.
The Police Doctor's Discovery Page 5