more that gets changed, the less of a full picture we’re going to be able to put together,’ Hawk responded. ‘If we get told about the changes, we can factor them in.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Sometimes small things can make a huge difference. Like a pedestrian versus car scenario, for example. When a vehicle hits a person, they’ll often lose a pair of glasses or a hat or handbag or something. The point at which that object falls is often the best indication of the point of impact. Some well-meaning person might pick the item up to give it back to the victim or tidy up a scene and that can make it impossible to be sure exactly where the victim was standing. And that could make the difference between the accident being the fault of the victim or the driver.’
Hawk’s face was serious as he let his gaze rest on Laura. She stared back and Hawk had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being evaluated for more than the content of his talk. He could feel some of the warmth leach out of his tone. ‘Fatal accidents can become court cases for manslaughter. A car is just as much of a lethal weapon as a gun in the wrong hands. Even small pieces of evidence can become of vital importance.’
His audience was clearly impressed, with the exception of Laura who was looking as though he had just scored another black mark on some personal score sheet. Hawk shrugged mentally and moved on, his tone now impersonal as he changed the image on the screen again.
‘What specifically are we looking for from the environment?’ He ran through a series of close-up photographs of tyre marks on road surfaces. ‘These can all tell their own story,’ he commented. ‘A yaw mark is a skid in a large arc and you’ll see these distinctive cross-marked tread patterns or striations. An acceleration scuff will have scrape marks in the opposite direction to travel whereas braking will give you scuffing in the same direction as travel.
‘Gouge marks, like this…’ Hawk pointed to the crescent shape carved into tarmac ‘…indicate the point of contact during a vehicle rollover. The mark occurs as the wheel rim hits the road. In this one—’ the crescent mark had a perfect circle close by ‘—the circle has been made by the central hub of the wheel during the final rollover.’
The next picture looked as though someone had emptied a rubbish container along a stretch of road. Papers, beer cans, broken glass, items of clothing and children’s toys were strewn over a surprisingly large area.
‘Debris scatter indicates the direction of travel of a vehicle and, potentially, its speed,’ Hawk told them.
He reached into a cardboard carton at his feet a few minutes later. The presentation was going smoothly and he was looking forward to finishing. He really wasn’t in the mood for liaison duties and that in itself was annoying. This kind of job had been a favourite when he and Cam had made it a joint effort. They could kick back and enjoy a semi-social occasion with their colleagues from complementary emergency services. There’d be jokes and laughter and maybe a beer or two at a local pub afterwards. If Laura had been scowling suspiciously at Cam he would have charmed her into appreciation pretty fast and it would have given the partners a moment of shared amusement later.
But those days were gone. As far as Hawk was concerned he was going solo now. He might be about to have a new partner foisted on him but that didn’t change anything. Cam was irreplaceable. They had worked—and played—as two halves of a whole. No one was going to step into that position easily. The notion that a female officer could replace what he’d had with Cam was about as likely as hell freezing over.
The item Hawk was now handing out to the group was an example of the kind of evidence they collected from the vehicles involved in a serious crash.
‘Look at the speedometer,’ he instructed. ‘Sometimes, with a high-energy impact, the speedo will become locked at the speed at which the vehicle was travelling. This one didn’t but if you look closely you might notice something.’
The dial was being carefully scrutinised by none other than Laura. ‘There’s a little mark,’ she observed. ‘At 190 kph.’
Hawk nodded. ‘A needle tap,’ he confirmed. ‘And another accurate indication of the vehicle’s speed.’
A collective whistle came from the group.
‘Didn’t come from your car, did it, Cliff?’ a fire officer called. ‘That time we were at the pub and you realised you’d forgotten your wedding anniversary and had three minutes to get home?’
‘Nah.’ Cliff shook his head ruefully. ‘I was late, man. Took me a month to get out of the dog box.’
‘And another week to get back in.’ A tall, blond fireman, who looked like an ex-surfer, was grinning broadly. ‘That’s marriage for you.’
Hawk joined in the laughter despite, or perhaps because of, Laura’s faintly disapproving expression. He agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly, anyway. Not that he had anything against female companionship. He never left too long a gap between his relationships, but he had it all worked out now and he knew precisely when it was time to call it quits. The first hint that the relationship was interfering with his own life or work was an alarm bell he never ignored.
Why the hell hadn’t Cam recognised those signals? They’d talked about it often enough. They’d watched their friends and colleagues move in and out of serious relationships. The fact that they’d both been burnt in the past had made them an ideal team to help pick up the emotional pieces when it all went to custard—as it invariably did. They had congratulated themselves on keeping their own lives in order in that department. They’d had it all. Great careers, a partnership that had only increased in strength over the years they had been together, an ability to attract female companionship whenever they’d felt the need and, more importantly, the wisdom to hear those alarm bells and act on them.
Hawk had tried to warn him that time he’d called off a night at the rifle range to take Cassie out.
‘She’s interfering, mate,’ he’d said sadly. ‘If you don’t watch out you’ll be up to your eyeballs in nappies and mortgages.’
And Cam had laughed. ‘Just wait.’ He’d grinned. ‘One of these days you’ll fall in love again and then you’ll change your tune.’
‘You’ve been “in love” before, too. You know as well as I do that it never lasts.’
‘This is different,’ Cam had insisted. ‘This is the real thing, Hawk.’
As if. Hawk had learnt the hard way that falling in love was an illusion. Just out-of-control hormones, and Hawk never let himself lose control of anything to that extent any more. Hadn’t done for years now. No. The hormones wore off and there you were, saddled with responsibilities that changed your life. They ruined spontaneity, kept you poor and made you settle for security instead of excitement.
He’d seen people cut their careers off at the knees in order to stay put and cruise. Their energy got sucked into dealing with those responsibilities and often it wasn’t until they escaped that ambition resurfaced. They got distracted, slowed down and occasionally even broken. It wasn’t going to happen to Owen Hawkins.
Not in a million years.
‘Take a look at these bulbs.’ Hawk pulled another item from the box and stepped towards the fire officers as the laughter faded. ‘When a light’s on and the filament is hot at point of impact, you’ll get that kind of distortion. Great physical evidence.’
The tall, blond fireman was still smiling as he reached out to take the bulb. A corner of Hawk’s mouth curved slightly. He could bet the fireman
