“That’s great news.”
“Yep,” she said quickly, panic rising in her gorge. Her return-to-work interview with Human Resources was scheduled for Friday and she felt sick at the thought.
“I can’t wait,” she added.
It was what she’d trained herself to say when asked. No one need know what she really felt. That the excitement of taking back control of her life was being eclipsed by the terror of standing in front of her team again and not being up to it. Of dropping the ball.
“Going foggy,” her consultant had called it when she’d told him. He’d recommended mindfulness. “It’s normal to be worried but I expect you’ll only be going back eight hours a week at first to ease back in,” he’d told her as if she should be grateful, but she couldn’t see how she could get any traction with a handful of hours.
How will I ever get back to full power? To DI King?
“Actually, I thought you were already back when I heard it was you who found the Ebbing body on Monday.”
“Ha! No, I was actually on a walk when I smelled the smell.”
“Poor you. Not a particularly pleasant corpse.”
“No, well . . .”
“Look, don’t do too much at first,” Aoife said as if she’d been inside Elise’s head. “It’s going to be tough to begin with and you need to be kind to yourself.”
“I know,” Elise snapped. “Sorry, but I feel so unfit—the treatment’s really knocked me back.”
“It will. But you’ll rebuild your strength quickly. Are you doing the exercises?”
“Yes, Doctor . . .”
“It’ll be so important in the long run.”
“I know. I’m desperate to be back to normal.”
“Of course. Caro misses you terribly. We all do.”
Elise felt her eyes prickle and clenched her fists against her thighs. “Thanks,” she managed. “Look, I’ve been thinking about the Charlie Perry case.”
“Not just a social call, then!” Aoife laughed softly.
“Well, I need the stimulus so I’m not thinking about cancer every moment of the day.”
“Go on, then—I’ve got five minutes.” Aoife took another stool. “What were you thinking about?”
“I wondered if you found maggots or eggs on the body.”
The pathologist’s eyebrows disappeared under her scrub hat. “I see.”
“I’m just exploring ideas. And wondering when he died. Have you identified the weapon used to hit him, by the way?”
The pathologist crossed her legs to get comfortable. “Well, the impact injury looks as though it was caused by a heavy object. Traces of engine oil were found around the wound site, so maybe a car tool. The team is still searching for it. Look, this is all getting a bit detailed—”
“Sorry. It’s just an intellectual exercise while I climb the walls at home—just trying to stretch my brain back into shape before I’m back in the incident room. So maggots or eggs?”
Aoife smiled. “Okay. I’ll just say the initial observations show eggs. But, Elise, you know how complex time of death is. We’ve been here so many times. Nothing is black and white. It was very hot over the weekend and significantly cooler on the earth floor in the cellar, so decomposition could have been speeded up or slowed down, depending on where he died and when he was moved. Did you know he didn’t die in situ and was moved later? Anyway, these are very early days—we need the labs to do their stuff. I’m being pushed by Caro—you all need to be patient.”
“Of course. But are there any indications who might have moved the body? Were there any fingerprints or DNA?”
“We’re still examining the samples from the scene. Look, I’d better get back to work—and, Elise, tread carefully. Your colleagues might not appreciate you conducting an alternative investigation.”
“I’m not. Don’t worry.”
* * *
—
She wrote up her notes while she waited for Ronnie to bring the car round, in case she forgot anything. But she lost her train of thought and, when she looked down at her pad, found she’d been doodling maggots in the margins. They looked cute and cuddly on the page but they were anything but. And their absence could mean Charlie hadn’t died until Sunday. So where was he until then?
“Hello. How did it go?” Caro answered on the first ring.
“No maggots.”
“Maggots? What are you on about?”