we come in?’ Imogen asked.
Fiona Merton walked back inside the house, leaving the door open for them to follow. Inside, it felt like a home that belonged to a much older woman. The curtains were mustard-and-terracotta stripes, very dated, and they looked like they had been there as long as the house. The sofas were large and almost cartoonlike, with a floral chintz in autumnal colours. Fiona Merton was no older than thirty and so Imogen assumed that she must have inherited the property.
‘Well? Where is he? Have you found him?’
‘I’m going to show you a photograph,’ Adrian said, pulling out his phone. ‘I want you to prepare yourself.’
‘Prepare myself for what?’ she said, clutching herself even tighter.
‘We recovered the body of a male who matches your brother’s description and we have reconstructed an image of his face to show you. Maybe you can identify him from it.’
‘Reconstructed? What was wrong with his face?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind taking a look at this. Are you ready?’ Adrian said, avoiding the question.
Fiona nodded and Adrian showed her the clay reconstruction. She looked confused at first, but then her face settled and the tears came.
‘Yes, that’s him, that’s Simon. He’s dead? What happened?’ Fiona said, crying but still somehow composed, cold even.
‘Was Simon in a relationship?’ Imogen said.
‘No. He works a lot; doesn’t have time for a relationship. His time’s divided mostly between the construction site and an evening class. Didn’t want to work on a building site for ever.’
‘What was he studying?’
‘He wanted to be a teacher. He’s been studying English literature so he can teach English in secondary school. He was a bit of a romantic.’ Fiona struggled to speak, her breath shortening as the impact of the situation hit her.
Imogen put her hand on her shoulder to try to impart some kind of empathy.
‘Do you recognise this woman at all?’ Adrian said, showing Fiona a picture of their Jane Doe.
She shook her head.
‘We’re sorry for your loss,’ Imogen said as Fiona looked up at her. What else was there to say?
‘How did it happen?’ Fiona said, wiping her cheeks, clearly unaccustomed to vulnerability.
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ Adrian said. ‘We recovered him from a river last Sunday morning.’
‘What was he doing in the river?’
‘I’m afraid we don’t know that yet,’ Adrian said.
‘Did he drown? He was a really good swimmer. He’s the only family I have … had left,’ she sobbed.
‘We are investigating what happened to Simon. At this point, we don’t believe he died of natural causes. If possible, would you be willing to give us a DNA sample so that we can confirm the person we have is in fact your brother?’
‘Why can’t I see him? Why won’t you answer my questions? Where did you say you found him?’
‘We really don’t know anything yet. The body was recovered from the River Exe in Exeter.’
‘What was he doing there? You don’t think he died of natural causes. So, you think he was murdered?’
‘It seems your brother sustained some serious injuries before he died, probably from a physical assault.’
‘Who would do that to him? Everyone liked Simon; he was a good man. Honestly, you would be hard pushed to find anyone who had a bad word to say against him.’
‘We don’t know who yet, but we will find out. Did your brother have a mobile phone?’ Adrian asked.
‘Of course he did. What kind of question is that? Who doesn’t have a bloody mobile phone these days?’
‘It would have been on him?’ Imogen said.
‘More than likely.’
‘Your brother lived in Higher Sea Lane in Charmouth, correct? Do you have spare keys for his property?’ Adrian said.
‘Yes, I’ll get them for you.’
She stood and walked over to a sideboard, where she opened the drawer and pulled out some keys, which she held in her hands tightly. Imogen could see the woman’s knuckles whiten as she squeezed.
‘I was close with my brother; he came here every week for Sunday dinner. When he didn’t turn up last week, I knew something was wrong. He was secretive and I know there was a lot he never told me about himself, but he wasn’t a bad person. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt him.’
‘Can you think of any reason your brother would be in Exeter?’ Imogen said.
‘He used to work there until about six months ago.’
‘Where does he work now?’ Imogen said.
‘He’s an Assistant Site Manager for the Sigma construction company. He’s working on a flat development on the front in Weymouth.’
‘Does he have any close friends we can talk to? Someone who might be able to shed some light on your brother’s activities?’ Imogen said.
‘He’s worked with a guy called Leon Quick for the last couple of years; Leon got him the job at Sigma after he left the last place.’
‘Thank you very much, Miss Merton. Again, we are sorry for your loss and we will let you know as soon as we have any information for you. Is there anyone you need us to call to come and be with you?’ Adrian said.
‘Thank you, DS Miles, I can call my neighbour, don’t worry,’ she said, arms folded as they walked to the door.
I gain entrance to the house by the patio door, which is always left unlocked. I go to the shower and wash the smell of hospital off me. I add make-up and put on a dress. Then I go into the kitchen and start dinner. He gets home and hangs his coat up. When he smells the food cooking, he’ll know I am back. The table is laid and there is a cup of tea waiting for him, his newspaper to the side of it. Everything is just the way he likes it.
He walks in and kisses me on the forehead. He tells me he knew I would be back before sitting at the table with his cup of tea and the paper. I tip the carrots into the pan of water and we both carry on as though we live a perfectly normal life.
