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Authors: Celina Grace

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspence, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Women Sleuths

Requiem

BOOK: Requiem
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Requiem

(A Kate Redman Mystery
: BOOK 2)

 

Celina Grace

 

 

© Celina Grace 2013

Bought by Maraya21
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Chapter One

 

The girl’s body lay on the riverbank, her arms outflung. Her blonde hair lay in matted clumps, shockingly pale against the muddy bank. Her face was like a porcelain sculpture that had been broken and glued back together: grey cracks were visible under the white sheen of her dead skin. Her lips were so blue they could have been traced in ink. Purple half-moons pooled beneath the dark fan of her eyelashes.

“So, what do you think?” asked Jay Redman.

His half-sister cocked her head to one side. “It’s very...powerful,” she said cautiously. She reached a finger out toward the scene, realising something.

“It’s
not
a photograph, is it? Wow, it looks just like one.”

Jay Redman’s painting technique was
called ‘hyperrealism’; it mimicked the precision of a photograph, but the image was delineated in paint.  She looked at her little brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. She appreciated the gesture, and God, Jay had real talent, but what on Earth made him think she’d want a picture of a dead girl hung above the fireplace? It was like looking at a crime scene photograph.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” said Jay. He adjusted the frame slightly, straightening it like a proud father pulling the shoulders of his son’s first school blazer into shape. “Best thing I’ve done so far.”

“Yes, indeed!” said Kate, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“It’s for our end of year show. My tutor thinks it’s great
—he thinks it might even win the Bolton Prize.”

“That’s the top award, isn’t it? That’s brilliant, Jay.
Why are you giving it to me?”

“I thought you’d like
to have it for a while,” said Jay, still staring proudly at the painting. “It’s a housewarming present. On loan.”

“Well, thank you.”

“I’m calling it ‘Ophelia Redux.’”

Kate felt another burst of affection towards her sibling. How wonderful it was to have someone in the family who knew Shakespeare, who had even
 
read
Shakespeare. It was clear why she and Jay got along so well, and it was something more than the fact that Kate had practically brought him up. There was no one else in the Redman family and its many offshoots who could talk about things other than reality television and the latest tabloid headlines. Kate had pulled herself up by her bootstraps, and here was Jay, doing the same, even if the path he was taking was a different one to hers.

“It’s great, Jay,” she said
, and her pride in her younger brother gave her tone a warmth which made her sound sincere. Jay beamed.

“I’m well proud of it,” he said, reminding his sister that he did, in fact, have some way to go before he shook off his roots entirely. She gave herself a swift mental kick for being so judgemental.

“It’s well good,” she said, grinning. “Now, have you seen the rest of the house?”

“Can you show me after a drink?”

“Of course, sorry.” Kate headed for the kitchen, still a little unfamiliar with the layout of her new house. She’d been here all of a week, and the rooms were still packed with boxes. “Tea?”

“Haven’t you got anything stronger? We
 
are
 supposed to be celebrating your move, you know, sis.”

“Um
…” Kate opened a few kitchen cupboards hopelessly. There was probably an ancient bottle of wine packed in one of the many cardboard boxes but where, exactly?

Jay rolled his eyes.

“Luckily for me, I know what you’re like.” He put his hand into his ragged green backpack and pulled out a bottle of champagne with a flourish. “See how good I am?”

“Jay, that’s brilliant. How do you afford champagne on a student’s budget?”

“Ah,” said Jay. “Now there you have me.”

“You didn’t steal it?” gasped Kate, horrified.

“’
Course
 not, sis, what do you take me for?” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s not real champagne. Just cheap fizz.”

Kate smiled, relieved.
“It’ll do fine. As long as you don’t mind drinking it out of mugs.”

“Classy.”

“I think you mean ‘bohemian.’”

Kate sat on the sofa she’d brought from her old flat,
and Jay took the new armchair she’d splashed out on when she moved. They clinked mugs and sipped. Kate found her gaze being drawn to the painting of the girl once more.

“Who’s the model?” she asked. She looked at the mock-dead face, noting the fine bones under the unnatural pallor of
her skin.

“My mate, Elodie.”

There was a casualness in Jay’s voice that didn’t deceive Kate, especially with all her experience with reading what was unsaid.

“Girlfriend?”

Jay slugged back the rest of his champagne. “Nope, just a mate.”

“Right,” said Kate. She tipped a little bit more fizz in Jay’s mug. “Is she on your course?”

Jay was in his second year at the Abbeyford School of Art and Drama, a further education college that specialised in the visual and dramatic arts. Kate had been thrilled when he’d decided to study there; her home town of Bournemouth was well over an hour’s drive away from her new location, and while Jay had still lived at home, she’d not seen much of him.

“Nope. She’s a musician, goes to Rawlwood.”

Kate raised her eyebrows. “She must be good, then. They hardly accept anyone there, unless they’re the new—um.” She groped for a famous classical musician. “A new Stradivarius, or something.”

“Eh?”

“I mean, it’s really hard to get a place there.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Well, it probably helps that she’s the Headmaster’s daughter.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. But, actually, she
 
is
 a talented musician, really good. She plays violin in this great band. Lorelei.”

“Lorelei?”

“That’s the band name. They play sort of folk rock. It’s good—” Jay said, seeing Kate’s unconvinced look. “Actually, there’s a gig on tonight. I meant to tell you. Did you want to go?”

“Tonight?”
asked Kate, doubtfully.

“Oh, come on,” said Jay. “I know you normally need
your plans signed off three weeks in advance before you commit to anything, but come on, sis, it’ll do you good. You need to get out sometimes, you know. Start meeting people. Start joining in.”

It was Kate’s turn to roll her eyes
. “I’m not a hermit, you know. I do have a social life.”

“I’m not talking about hanging out with all your copper mates. That’s not a social life
—that’s 
work
. You need to get out and meet some normal people.”

Kate laughed. “You’re telling me police officers aren’t normal people?”

Jay gave her a wry look and reached for the last of the champagne.

“No, sis, they are not. They are definitely not.”

Kate twiddled her mug around in her hands. She’d planned a nice dinner for Jay’s first visit to her new house, and then she’d assumed they’d sit in front of the fire and chat. That was what she felt like doing.

But his remark about her needing to know plans weeks in advance had stung a little. Was she really that inflexible? And when was the last time she’d actually
been
out, anyway? Somewhere that wasn’t with her friend, and fellow officer, Mark Olbeck? She groped for a memory and realised that it must have been sometime in the summer: her friend Hannah’s party. And now it was November.
All right, so I’ve had to organise a move in the meantime but honestly, I’m twenty eight, not eighty eight
...

She put the mug down and made up her mind.

“Sure, let’s go. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, cool, sis. You’ll enjoy it. Elodie’s great. You’ll like her.”

The faraway look in his eyes as he mentioned his friend’s name troubled Kate a little. She wondered whether Elodie knew how Jay felt about her. Well, she’d be able to see for herself later.

“Where’s this gig?”

Jay tapped his phone’s screen and began to scroll through his text messages.

“Arbuthon Green,” he announced a moment l
ater. “There’s a pub there, the—”

“Black Horse,” said Kate, sighing.

“You know it?”

“Yes.” There had been several arrests there recently for drug dealing
, but she wasn’t going to mention that to Jay. So a night out at a dodgy pub listening to a student band? She was glad she hadn’t drunk more than a mouthful of champagne; she’d be able to drive now and make a quick getaway if necessary.

“What about dinner?” she asked.

“Plenty of time for that later,” said Jay. “I’ll shout you some chips if you like.”

“Perfect,” said Kate
ironically, standing up. “Come on.” She nearly added ‘let’s get it over with,’ but she didn’t want to dampen Jay’s obvious excitement. It would be nice to spend some time with her brother, anyway. She hadn’t seen him for several months, after all.

 

“How’s Mum?” she asked, once they were in the car and making their way to Arbuthon Green.

Jay looked at her in surprise.

“She’s fine. Why? Haven’t you seen her lately?”

Kate lifted one shoulder in a non-committal shrug.

“Not very lately. I’ve been so busy. With the move and everything.”

Jay had his knees resting on the dashboard,
and he was tapping them with his hands in response to some inner music.

“Mum’s all right. She’s got some new bloke on the go.”

Oh God
. Kate recalled some of the other ‘blokes.’ The fellow alcoholic, the married man, the other married man, the petty thief. She suppressed a sigh.

“What’s he like?” she asked as they pulled into the car park of the Black Horse.

“All right, actually,” said Jay, sounding surprised. “Seems fairly normal. Not like the others.”

“Well, that’s odd in itself,” muttered Kate, almost under her breath. Then she dismissed her mother from her mind
and concentrated on finding a parking space in the busy car park.

The pub was packed, standing room only. Jay and Kate battled their way through to the bar. Kate was already regretting
her decision to come. She didn’t want to stand up for two hours, shifting her weight from foot to aching foot, drinking warm orange juice and listening to some crappy amateur band. She felt a bit cross with Jay. Months since she’d seen him and now they weren’t really going to have a chance to catch up at all…

She bought them both a drink after a long and frustrating wait at the bar. They battled back through the crowds to a spare square foot of space over by the back wall
that was rather too near the toilets for Kate’s liking.

The noise
in the pub made it difficult to talk. There was a moment of silence between brother and sister as they sipped their drinks. Kate looked out at the heaving crowd. Lots of students, couples, noisy groups of young people. Denim, leather, piercings, spiky heels, band T-shirts. She looked down at her neat blue jeans and cashmere jumper in a tasteful shade of beige. Suddenly, she felt acutely out of place. Hot on the heels of that feeling, a much sharper surge of loneliness peaked. She felt totally apart from this raucous, happy crowd; it was as if she were observing them from afar, always on the outside looking in.

That’s what being a police officer does for you
, she thought, but she knew it wasn’t just that.

She caught the eye of a man in the crowd who’d turned to look her way, as if attuned to her sudden emotional state
. He looked familiar. She opened her mouth to greet him, looked closer, and shut it again. She didn’t know him. Kate sipped her drink, cautiously looking back at the man, who’d turned to face the stage again. He still looked familiar. Kate mentally shrugged. She’d had this feeling before, and it usually meant she’d recognised someone she’d met in the course of her duties. Well, that was one way of putting it. Quite embarrassing, actually, running into someone you’d arrested.

She looked again at the man. He did actually have the faintly disreputable look of someone who might have rubbed up against the police at some point. His bone structure was good, you could even say he was raggedly handsome
, but the overall impression was of good looks subjected to the major stressors of time, worry and hard living. He was staring at the stage, sipping a pint. Alone, like her.

No, not like her. She had Jay beside her, after all. She was aware that her brother had suddenly straightened up, quivering a little like a hunting dog spotting its quarry. There was an outbreak of noise from the expectant crowd: shouts, cheers, catcalls. Kate realised the band had made its entrance.

She spotted Elodie at once: blonde hair in an elfin crop which framed her fine-boned face. The girl had a violin in one hand, held casually but expertly against her hip, a bit like an experienced mother holds a baby. There was a male singer, hair a mass of knotty dreadlocks, nose ring glinting under the pub lights. A drummer and a guitarist, again both male, studenty, scruffy.

BOOK: Requiem
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