Chapter Text
Lottie Watkins yawned as she slowed her run down to approach the rocky part of the town beach. Several of the smaller hotels and guest houses abutted the beach forming an uneven sea wall, with overhanging balconies that somehow survived storm surges and high tides. But it was also a good place to walk and run as they provided some shelter from the hot rising sun.
After placing her iPod (TM) earplugs in to listen to some relaxing music, Lottie carefully picked her way over the small rocks down on to the more sandy areas and began her run close to the sea wall. Her mind started to go into ‘Zen Mode’ as she focussed on her breathing to relax in to the run itself, so when she needed to get back up on to the road leading out of Honoré and out towards the East Bluff, she could do so smoothly and not put too much strain on her knees.
So taken up with her meditation, Lottie failed to notice the large object in front of her until she collided and crashed over what turned out to be a very dead human body....
Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey looked up at her chief, Detective Inspector Richard Poole, taking a moment to quietly examine him. He didn’t look quite as tired as the day before but was still withdrawn and sad. Police Officer Dwayne Myers and Police Sergeant Fidel Best remained silent except to bid their chief a good morning and go about their work quietly and efficiently.
She had been shaken to the core when Richard had returned from England two days before after attending his mother’s funeral, briefly calling in to the station before continuing on to his beach shack. Camille had taken some post out later that evening to find him very distressed. When she had asked him if he was ok, Richard broke down in tears and all she could do was reach out and this time, he had accepted her comfort.
Yesterday Camille returned to the shack to check on him. She had panicked for a moment as it was Ten O’ Clock in the morning but the blinds were down and the doors shut. Through the slats, she could see him lying fully clothed on his bed and had knocked loudly until he had woken up and answered, looking like merde. He had invited her in, apologising about having to take a very necessary visit to the bathroom, by which then Camille had headed down the steps in to the small kitchen to make him a cup of tea.
Eventually Richard had emerged clean shaven but still looking pale and drawn and had accepted the tea, drinking it quietly. Their conversation was revealing, with Richard opening up about his previous life as a child divided between a highly dysfunctional home and an indifferent boarding school, isolated and living in fear of ridicule and failure, of his last conversation with his father and including the alarming admission he had briefly considered suicide when he had scattered his mother’s ashes. After an hour or so where at least he had eaten some food, Richard insisted he would be at the station the next day, so she had left him to his own thoughts.
Camille sighed and continued with her work, occasionally glancing up at Richard smiling at him when their eyes finally met. He had given a half smile back as an attempt to reassure her, she thought. The quietness of the office was broken by Fidel’s desk phone ringing.
“There’s a body on the beach under Alfonso’s B and B. Possible murder.” Fidel announced, grabbing his cap.
Richard stood and quietly followed his colleagues out of the station, waiting silently as Fidel, Dwayne and Camille packed the scene of crime kit in to the back of the Defender and then moved in to the driver’s seat for the short trip down the beach front. Within ten minutes the area had been cleared, Dwayne and Fidel started to cordon it off with tape while Richard and Camille armed themselves with non allergic gloves and shoe covers before making their way down to the beach.
The heat of the sun and drying seaweed at the water’s edge had started to attract flies, and a fair few had descended on the already bloating body of the victim. As was his habit, Richard took his time in surveying the surroundings, noting how the body was lying at an angle against the wall, the legs tucked back at the knees, probably pushed up to the wall a few times on the receding tide. There was little else in the way of debris around the area so Richard moved closer to the body, to be joined by Camille.
The local duty medical examiner joined them and she confirmed the victim had been shot through the head, entry wound up through the left cheek bone, exiting up out of the skull and considered that to be the probable cause of death. Fidel arrived and started to photograph the area and the body itself and when he had finished, he nodded to Camille and Richard that they could continue.
“The woman up on the terrace came across the body when she was going for her usual run..” Camille said, pointing to a very distressed witness being comforted by friends up on a sun terrace jutting out over them.
“Any other witnesses?” Richard asked, now in full ‘detective’ mode.
“None as yet.” Camille replied, whilst busily re-gloving her hands.
Now standing either side of the body, Richard noted the extensive wound on the left cheek. Then both he and Camille began to examine the area around the body in tandem. The bloating which had begun was not a good indicator of time of death since it was accelerated by the heat. The features were intact but there was a very obvious exit wound with some loss of the skull to the upper right occipital area, but the entry wound was quite small, possibly shot at close range with a small hand gun, so Richard thought.
Camille had begun a touch search, then checking the front trouser pockets, with Richard doing the same on his side. They retrieved a mobile phone and a small wallet and bagged them for examination later.
Richard rubbed his chin with his usual frown, the cogs in his mind beginning the journey of putting the - so far - very few pieces of the jigsaw together. The victim was male possibly mid to late thirties, clothed, light tan, clothes from a well known exclusive brand. No jewellery or other personal effects except for a smart phone and wallet containing an American Express Platinum Card, a Visa platinum, and dollar notes amounting to a couple of hundred, signs of a business man that hadn’t been robbed.
Richard sat back on his heels, taking in what he had seen but then became aware, all too acutely aware, of the body. In a flash he wasn’t seeing a thirty to forty something male, but a woman in her late seventies, his mother.
Camille had finished bagging the items recovered, including immersing the mobile phone in to a bag of rice to draw off the moisture. She looked up to discuss her ideas with Richard only to find him staring at the body before him.
“Richard.” she called, but he didn’t respond.
“Richard!” Camille called raising her voice.
His eyes widened as his head shot up. He looked at Camille, clearing his throat while rising up from his crouch.
Camille looked at him but his expectant raised eyebrow was a sign for her to continue and Camille realised now was not the time to ask if he was ok.
“Right. Well I can’t see anything else here. We’ll have to wait for the post mortem now. Camille?” He said, inclining his head to her in his usual fashion as if nothing happened.
“Deceased is Martin Bayliss according to the name on his cards, but no age given. It appears he has been shot with the bullet entering here,” Camille pointed to the wound on Bayliss’ cheek “and exited here at the back of the skull.” She stood up shrugging her shoulders, “but no other obvious injuries found as yet.
Richard nodded, folding his arms for a moment, his lips pursed. Looking up he called over to Fidel.
“All right. Fidel, Dwayne keep searching along this wall for a while longer. I don’t think there is anything else for the moment but it’s worth a check. We’ll see you back at the station when you’re done.”
With one last glance at the scene, Richard marched up off the beach without another word with Camille tow.