His brow furrowed. “How is that possible? What happened?”
“Epidural haematoma,” Lynley said. “A blow to the head had fractured her skull. She was in a coma when you found her. Hence the reason you couldn’t rouse her.”
“You said murder, though. But she must have fallen and caused the fracture herself. What I mean is, she was in her nightclothes. She was in bed. And there was no sign. I mean, there was no indication of a blow. There was nothing to suggest . . . Who else knows?”
“That it was murder? The family only know she’s died, as they authorised her being taken off the respirator. And that she died was actually all anyone knew prior to the post mortem examination. I’ve officers heading out now to tell her relations that it wasn’t a natural death.”
“But murder . . . ? With no overt sign of a blow to her head?”
“The blow was on the back of her head, so you wouldn’t have seen it, and it didn’t break the skin. There was also a weapon. The skull fracture indicated that.”
“What was it?”
“We don’t know just yet. Everything that could have been used is being removed from her flat by SOCO to go to forensics. If nothing among all that would have served, it’s safe to assume that whoever hit her also brought the weapon to do so. And took it away afterwards.”
“Then why do you assume she was hit and not . . . ?” He answered the question he hadn’t bothered to finish. “The autopsy, of course. As you said. There would have been one. My God, I could have done something for her. I’m trained to see things, and I saw nothing.”
“You couldn’t have known what had occurred, Mark. As you’ve said, she was in bed, she was in her nightclothes. What were you supposed to think? The DS herself probably didn’t know she was so badly wounded. She was given a blow, but it’s altogether possible that she didn’t actually lose consciousness immediately. Or if she did lose consciousness, the regaining of it would have made her think it had been a glancing blow, and that’s all. She might have been dizzy. She might have had something of a headache, for which she took paracetamol. Or she had no immediate memory of what had happened in the first place. She got herself into bed without a complete understanding of the danger she was in. Then her condition worsened, she lost consciousness, she went into a coma. The only way she could have been saved was if someone had found her in time to get her to hospital so the pressure on her brain might have been relieved. That didn’t happen, and it’s not the fault of anyone who knew her, save her killer.”
“You’re saying she knew her killer, then?”
“If she’d been attacked in the street or in another public place, she would have been quickly found. The fact that she wasn’t suggests that she admitted her killer into her flat.”
“Or the killer was someone who had a key.”
“Or that. Yes.”
“Her family might have keys. Her parents, her sister. Perhaps even her husband. Ross Carver.”
“？‘Even’？”
“They were separated. Two years? Perhaps longer? But they’d lived together in the flat during their marriage. He may still have a key.”
Phinney returned to the sofa where he’d sat initially. He tore his croissant in half, raised it, couldn’t seem to find it within himself to eat it. He set it back on the plate and took up his coffee. His hand shook, Lynley noted. Not so badly that it would be noticed by someone not looking for signs, but quite obvious to anyone who questioned villains on a more or less regular basis.
Lynley said, “What can you tell me about her transfer? Was it voluntary?”
Phinney hesitated. Lynley saw him swallow. “Sadly, no,” he said. “I initiated it. She would have preferred to remain here.”
“You mentioned a team. I assume she was part of it.”
“She was,” Phinney said. “She was a good officer and a fine detective.”
“Why did you have her transferred, then?”
“It’s difficult to explain, and I would have had it otherwise. But there were issues with how she worked. She preferred going off on her own if she uncovered what she thought was a lead. She’d come up with her own activities as well, so she wasn’t a team player in the way I need everyone here to be. When something popped into her mind—even if it was beyond our remit—she did it and reported on it afterwards, if at all. We had any number of run-ins, she and I, over what was best for the project.”