Little Boy Blue - [8]

Helen reached the mortuary doors and buzzed herself in quickly. If she hesitated, she would lose her nerve and turn back. Jim Grieves, the pathologist, turned as Helen now approached. He didn’t offer much of a greeting and Helen was glad of it. She hadn’t the mental capacity or emotional strength for small talk. She just wanted to get this over with.

‘He’s a Caucasian male, late thirties to early forties, with a keen interest in body art, piercing and masochism. Lots of old injuries associated with the use of restraints, including a fractured wrist sustained a few years ago and a dislocated ankle that has never fully healed. Some evidence of STDs and I also found historic semen residue – not his own – on parts of his clothing.’

Helen nodded but said nothing – it was upsetting to hear her friend dissected in such a cold, clinical way.

‘We’ve done preliminary bloods – alcohol, ketamine and a small amount of cocaine, but that’s not what killed him. He died of asphyxia. You can tell by the petechial haemorrhages on his cheeks and eyelids and also the cyanosis, which is what gives his face that blue discoloration. There are no bruises or marks on his torso, so we can assume that the duct tape around his head was sufficiently tight to cut off oxygen to his airways and that his killer had no need to apply any pressure to his throat or neck. The bleeding and bruising to his lips suggest that he was trying to bite his way through the tape when he lost consciousness.’

Helen shut her eyes, overwhelmed by the horror of Jake’s predicament.

‘He suffered severe dehydration thanks to a massive rise in his body temperature, which eventually led to a cardiac arrest, but he wouldn’t have known much about it. His brain was starved of oxygen – it was this that did for him rather than anything that came after.’

‘How long?’

Helen’s voice sounded brittle and tight.

‘Four to five minutes to lose consciousness, a little longer to die.’

‘Would he have known what was happening?’

‘Until he blacked out. Perhaps that was the point. There was no attempt to torture or harm him physically, even though he was at his killer’s mercy. Which might suggest your attacker wanted his victim to be cognisant of what was happening, to feel his helplessness as his oxygen failed.’

Helen nodded, but said nothing in response. She was riven with emotion – anger, despair, sickness – as Grieves laid bare the brutal details of Jake’s death. Did his assailant stick around to watch him die? Was being there at the point of death important to him? Beneath her fierce outrage, Helen now felt something else stirring – fear. Fear that the darkness was descending once more.

‘Anything else? We’re light on hard evidence at the moment,’ Helen went on.

‘Given the environment his body was found in, his clothing is surprisingly clean. I did find some fresh saliva on his cheek and right ear, however. I doubt it’s his own, given the position of it.’

‘Can we fast-track the analysis?’ Helen said quickly. ‘We need something concrete we can work with -’

‘I’ll do what I can, but I’ve got three other cadavers to process and everyone wants things yesterday, don’t they?’ Grieves grumbled.

‘Thank you, Jim. Quick as you can, please.’

Helen squeezed his arm and turned on her heel. Grieves opened his mouth to protest, but he was too slow. Helen was already gone.

14

Helen walked back to her Kawasaki, lost in thought. Barring one occasion, she had only ever encountered Jake in his professional guise. They had met at his flat, where the lighting was dim and conversation kept to a minimum. Over time they had got to know each other better, but they were still playing roles during their sessions and Helen now realized how little she knew her friend. She had certainly never seen him as she had this morning – naked and unadorned, under the powerful glare of the mortuary lights.

She’d remembered that he had an eagle’s head tattooed on his neck, but had never asked him what it signified. She knew he didn’t speak to his parents, but had never asked who they were or where Jake was brought up. She knew he had an eye for the boys as well as the girls, but didn’t know which came first or whether he was looking for the same things as everyone else – commitment, security, a family. She wished now that she had asked more questions of someone she considered a true friend.

He had in the past thought of her as more than that. During the Ben Foster case, Jake had taken to following Helen, such was the level of his romantic obsession with her. She had put a stop to that, cutting off their relationship for a while, and to her surprise it had worked. When they had last met, by chance in a city centre bar, he’d been seriously dating a guy he’d recently met. He seemed happy and together, so much so that when he texted Helen a few months later, asking if she wanted to resume their sessions, she’d been sorely tempted. In the end, caution had won out, however, and she’d made alternative arrangements, keen to avoid messy emotional entanglements. But she still often thought of him.