Rimis turned up the collar of his jacket and with Brennan by his side they made their way across the frost-whitened grass to the tower. They recognised the victim immediately.
‘A coincidence?’
‘Seems unlikely,’ Rimis said.
Patrick Hill was in a sitting position with his back against the wall next to the tower door. His head lolled against his chest, his thin legs splayed out in front of him. He was soaked through; his hair plastered flat to his skull, a yellow beanie lay on the ground next to him. Rimis blew into his hands. When he looked up he saw Greer Ross striding towards them.
‘What is it about this place?’ Doctor Ross called. ‘Two deaths in the same location, less than a week apart?’
Rimis and Brennan stepped aside to make room for Doctor Ross to examine the body.
‘You didn’t waste any time getting here,’ Rimis said.
‘I was already in the car on my way to work when I got the call.’
Rimis thought Patrick Hill could have been asleep if it wasn’t for his ashen pallor and the bullet hole between the eyes.
Greer began her examination. ‘No powder burns, absence of stippling. He was shot at close range, possibly post-mortem.’
‘Post-mortem?’
Doctor Ross gave a nod to Rimis. ‘Doesn’t appear to be any bleeding from the head wound. I won’t know for sure if it occurred post-mortem until I open him up, but at this stage it looks that way.’ She examined the back of his head. ‘No exit wound. The skull feels intact, the scalp unbroken.’ She continued her external examination.
Rimis’s hand cupped his chin. He looked down at Patrick Hill. ‘I think the body was staged. What do you think, Greer?’
Brennan looked at Rimis. She’d never heard him call Doctor Ross by her first name.
‘Give me a minute, Nick. Let me catch my breath and gather my thoughts.’
And she called him, Nick, not Inspector. Jill looked at them both and wondered if there was something going on between them.
There was a moment of silence.
‘I think you’re right. The body is too symmetrical,’ Greer said.
Rimis shuffled his feet and crossed his arms, watching while Greer pulled up the legs of Patrick Hill’s tracksuit.
‘What is it?’ Rimis asked.
‘Dependent lividity. The lower part of his body is mottled from blood pooling. Take a look.’ She pointed to Hill’s legs.
‘So he died in that position.’
‘Looks like it. I’ll know more when I get him on the table.’ Greer peered into Patrick Hill’s mouth. ‘What’s this?’ She picked out a white feather with the tips of her gloved fingers.
Brennan pulled out a plastic evidence bag from her pocket. ‘Boss, it looks like the same type of feather Phil Hammond found in the tower the night Robbie died.’
‘Where the hell is the police photographer?’ Greer snapped. ‘He should have been here by now. We need photos.’
Rimis looked at his watch. ‘Peak hour.’
Fifteen minutes later, the police photographer arrived. ‘Sorry, guys, the traffic’s a nightmare.’ He walked around the body, careful not to contaminate the scene before he crouched down and took a close-up shot of Patrick Hill’s face.
‘The media are going to have a field day once they catch wind of this, if they haven’t already,’ Rimis said.
‘I was rostered on to do Robbie’s autopsy this morning…until I got your call. I’ll see if I can have Patrick Hill put on the priority list. And before you ask me, time of death, best guess, between seven and midnight last night based on rigor and body temp.’
Rimis looked at Brennan. ‘Didn’t he normally walk his dog around nine-thirty?’
‘Yep,’ Jill said. ‘Speaking of Brian, isn’t that him over there?’
Everyone turned around.
‘Brennan, go and fetch the dog will you?’
‘But, boss, I’m not really a dog person, I —’
‘Brennan, get the dog.’
Brian was about twenty metres away. He’d just popped his head up from a thick hedge of ivy and barked, as if on cue. When Jill walked over to him he was on his belly, paws outstretched in front of him. His white coat was covered in a thick layer of mud. Brennan untangled his lead. Brian stood up, wagged his tail and licked her hand.
‘What are we going to do with him?’ Jill said when she walked back to Rimis.
‘Go and talk to Mr Hill’s neighbour, take Brian with you. Maybe the neighbour will take the dog or at least look after him for the time being. We need to get a hold of Fin Calloway. She’d be his next of kin I’m guessing.’
‘If only Brian could speak, we’d have two deaths solved by now,’ Jill said before she walked off and left Rimis and Greer Ross to it.
Rimis checked to see if anybody was listening before he caught Greer gently by the arm. It was the lightest of touches. ‘Look, Greer, I wanted to speak to you about…what happened between us. I…’
‘It’s all right, Nick you don’t have to say anything.’
‘I want to apologise for taking off the way I did. I guess I panicked.’
‘Nick, I had a bad day, you had a bad day. It’s all back to business now, right?’
Rimis thought he heard a hint of regret in her voice. Regret for what they’d shared, or regret that it would never be repeated?
‘I’ll let you know if we can prioritise the autopsies.’ She gave him a smile and turned away.
Rimis watched her walk back towards the car park. Perhaps he was taking what had happened between them too seriously. What would be the harm in seeing her again?
About five minutes later Patrick Hill’s body was taken away.