The Dying Place

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‘You’re a fucking soft git you are,’ Jess replied, tucking away the foil container holding the bhajis behind her on the coffee table.

Minutes later, there were half-full plates of curry, naan bread and poppadoms perched on their laps, and they stared at the TV in the corner. Murphy leant back in his chair.

‘What’s the matter, babe?’ Sarah asked. ‘Eyes too big for your stomach?’

‘No, just thinking is all.’

Jess mopped up the last of her sauce with a piece of naan bread. ‘New case?’

‘Yeah,’ Murphy said, attempting another forkful. ‘Eighteen-year-old in West Derby.’

‘Heard about that on the news. Found on the church steps?’

Murphy nodded. ‘Yeah, beaten and then strangled by the looks of it. Don’t think it’s religious or anything, but you know … can’t be too careful.’

Sarah dropped her fork on her plate, reaching over for the last onion bhaji. ‘Between her with her lawyer stuff,’ she said, using the bhaji to point at Jess, ‘and you with your murders and shite, it’s getting a bit dark a conversation for this time of night. Can we change the subject please?’

Murphy rolled his eyes at Jess, before lifting his plate off his lap to avoid a kick from Sarah. ‘Okay, okay. What’s going on with Peter then, Jess?’

This time it was Jess’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘Typical teenager bollocks. Seventeen years old and thinks the world owes him a favour.’

‘We were all like that once.’

‘I know,’ Jess replied, ‘but he’s just annoying me now. Hasn’t been going to college, so fuck knows how he’ll get on with his exams. More interested in going round his mate’s house. Keeps reminding me he’ll be eighteen in a few months. He’s at his dad’s tonight and I’ve had a word. See if him and the new bint can do anything to knock some sense into him.’

Murphy swallowed a chewy bit of chicken and winced. Not as good as usual. ‘Want me to have a word?’

Jess shook her head. ‘It’s all right. He’s not done anything too bad really. Just being a mother, I guess.’

Murphy heard a sigh from beside him. Sarah, looking pointedly in his direction.

He knew what conversation they’d be having when Jess finally left.

9 (#ulink_95865d6f-f67d-5853-88f8-d293384b7aa3)

Murphy headed for DCI Stephens’s office, suppressing a yawn on the way. A late night was probably the last thing he’d needed on day two of a murder investigation. The half cup of coffee that morning wasn’t kicking in yet. The office was mostly empty – the night shift clearing out in preparation for the day crowd to take over. He glanced at the murder board he’d set up twenty-four hours earlier, the same details from the previous night plastered over the surface.

He peeked in his office without entering, frowning when he saw it was empty. He’d expected to see Rossi inside, working away on something or other. She was usually here before him, especially when they had a murder. He glanced at his watch, giving her the benefit of the doubt when he saw that it hadn’t long gone past eight a.m. It was a Saturday, after all.

Murphy knocked on the office door, hand on the handle waiting for the signal to enter.

‘Come in.’

DCI Stephens hadn’t seemed to have lost any sleep at all. Immaculately turned out, as usual. Always the first one here, well before the detective constables desperate to climb the promotion ladder.

‘Roped in for weekend work as well, boss?’ No marm, or any of that. She preferred boss, and that was fine by him.

‘Only half a day,’ she replied, motioning for Murphy to sit down in the chair opposite her. ‘Super wanted to make sure we’re making progress with this dead kid case.’

‘He was eighteen. Hardly a kid.’

She made no sign of noticing his correction. ‘What’s the plan?’

Murphy steepled his fingers. ‘We have a number of friends we have to question. We need to find out where he’s been for the last seven months. Nothing from the door to doors, no witnesses. So unless forensics have pulled anything, that’s our best bet.’

‘We don’t like the religious aspect to this case, David. Have we ruled that out yet?’

Murphy met her gaze. ‘You know it would be wrong to do that at this point. Best we keep an open mind.’

Stephens waved a hand away. ‘Of course, but the Super was very insistent that we don’t overstep the mark. Last thing we need is to cloud the issue. Have you spoken to Matrix?’