Katie Nevill woke with a start, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of her bedroom. She turned her attention to the green glow from her bedside table, 04:03 on the display of her alarm.
The last hazy remnants of the dream she'd been having slipped slowly from her consciousness as she began to register the sound that had woken her; her phone vibrating beneath her pillow.
She fumbled clumsily for it, squinting at the brightness of the screen, and answered the call.
"Wake up, get dressed.”
Paul. She responded with a grunt of protest and sat up slowly.
"Katie seriously you have to see this, I'm coming to get you. I'll be there in twenty, shower fast"
Before she could respond, the line clicked and the call disconnected.
DI Paul Richards had been her boss for the last six years, since she'd moved up into the major crimes unit. He was about about fifteen years her senior, but she had made her way through the ranks quickly, and was eyeing his job closely now as he got nearer to retirement.
Katie's initial annoyance at his wake-up call made way for fresh intrigue when she realised in all the time they'd worked together, she'd never heard him so excited before. Maybe this was something she'd want to see after all.
Thirty minutes later she was sitting in the passenger side of Paul's beaten up Mondeo, heading through dimly lit backstreets. It was cold, gray, and steadily raining; standard, miserable British weather. The rain thundered down on the roof as she looked over at him.
He hadn't changed in all the time she'd known him. His hair was always immaculately parted to the side, dark brown but with silver just starting to creep into his sideburns if you looked closely. Age or stress she didn't know, probably both.
Paul reached up to scratch his chin, as he often did when deep in thought, and Katie smiled at the sound of his fingers scraping against his stubble, he did it so often there was something familiar and comforting about it.
Not a bad looking guy really, she caught herself thinking, then almost laughed aloud. She'd been single for years, that sure as hell wasn't changing anytime soon. Besides, Paul was married and she was good friends with his wife.
"You're staring" he said in a sing-song voice, grinning.
"God sorry, I was completely daydreaming" she responded, caught off guard and feeling embarrassed.
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"Oh yeah? Was I any good?" he quipped.
She shot him her standard 'shut up' look and smiled to herself.
"So what's this all about anyway?" she asked.
"Dog walker found a body in the early hours" he replied. She saw a quick flash of excitement behind his eyes, barely disguised.
"That's nothing new for us?" She probed.
"Katie just wait."
***
Paul flashed his warrant card at the baby-faced officer stationed on the cordon, and Katie followed suit. The officer nodded, and with a courteous acknowledgment of "Sir. Sarge.", lifted the police tape for them both to duck under.
They followed the road ahead a few meters, Katie pulled her hood up and raised an arm against the rain. Her eyes travelled up to the bridge looming over the road. From her angle she could just about make out the train tracks that ran across the top.
"Nah, not up there, don't worry" Paul had noticed her studying it.
He motioned towards the side of the bridge, hidden in shadows beside the pavement, was a set of stairs leading down another level.
"C'mon, but watch your step" he warned.
Katie placed her feet carefully as they descended. The concrete slabs of the steps had worn away in places and left plant life sprawling up through the cracks in their search for the sun.
She noted the graffiti that scrawled all the way down the wall adjacent to them. Assorted "tags" and crudely drawn shit, the usual. A faint, musky, smell of urine and marijuana became stronger as they continued their descent, and she let out a noise of disgust under her breath.
"Nice place, right?" Paul joked from in front of her.
When she reached the bottom she found herself next to a canal. The bridge, now almost directly above them, continued across to the other side and into the distance. They were on a small footpath that stretched alongside the length of the water as far as she could see.
On the horizon the sun was starting to rise, casting orange and red ripples of colour across the water. Birds had started to wake with the sun and the city, and sound reverberated under the bridge all around her. It was beautiful, and she stopped to let herself appreciate it for a few seconds.
The bright, white roof of the forensic tent soon broke her eyeline and shattered the illusion.
Back to reality.
***
Through the forensic suit and mask, Katie could still see that Paul had a wild look of excitement in his eyes as he gestured down to the body.
"Honestly have you ever seen anything like it K?" He whispered.
Katie, now crouching near the woman's head, let out a slow, steadying breath. The victim was flat on her back, her long, dark hair spread across her face and chest. Her light blue eyes were now bloodshot and cloudy, fixed on the roof of the tent.
Katie sighed and tucked a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear with a gloved hand, before gently closing her eyelids. She was young, maybe early twenties. Pretty, even now.
Katie didn't need a SOCO to lay out the evidence for her. What had killed this woman was seemingly obvious; the injuries, the pooled blood, the position she lay in, the bridge right above them, it was all consistent with a fall.
She stood, removing her gloves with a loud snap, and letting out a sigh.
"Paul, please don't tell me you've called me out here for a drunken accident. I guarantee you it'll come back that she was inebriated" she said, eyes closed in growing irritation. "You remember those girls last month with the train? Tried to shortcut over the tracks while they were drunk? Same thing here."
"Maybe" Paul smirked.
Then he bent down and turned the woman's head a fraction to the left. Her hair rolled away from the side of her neck.
Katie's breath caught in her throat.
"Is...Is that a fucking pen?"