Written In Blood

Chapter Fourteen

"Can I help you?"

"Sergeant Mitchell, from Oakhurst; we're here about Georgina Ryder."

The morgue attention, looked from the sergeant to the two with him. "I'll get someone to help you," he said before disappearing through the double-doors behind the counter. He returned almost immediately with another attendant, who took charge.

Silent and solemn, Mitchell, Melissa and John Ryder followed the attendant along the passage, past several doors, and through a set of double doors at the far end. The room they entered was the storage area, with three of the walls make up of cabinets, which held the bodies of the recently dead.

"It's Georgina Ryder you're here for, isn't it," the attendant said. "Came in this morning?"

"That's right," Mitchell said with a quick nod.

"Okay, she's in thirty-eight," the attendant said after checking a list on the desk in the corner of the room. "If you'll sign in, I'll show you her."

Mitchell, Melissa and John Ryder all filled out the sheet on the clipboard they were given, and with that formality taken care of the attendant led them over to the appropriate cabinet.

"I assume you're here to make an identification," Clark said.

John Ryder nodded, unable to bring himself to speak, though he did gasp when he caught his first sight of the girl believed to be his daughter, and the damage done to her face.

"Is that Georgina?" Mitchell asked in a low and compassionate voice.

It was a minute and more before John recovered sufficiently from his shock to react to the sight before him. "My baby, oh my poor baby; who could have done this to you?" With a wail of grief, he threw himself, weeping, on the body.

Melissa turned away, embarrassed by the obvious and painful grief that was displayed. It was not that she was heartless, but John Ryder's display was hard to watch.

Mitchell was shocked by his friend's reaction, which seemed excessive. "Come on, John, you've got to get control of yourself," he said, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Georgina wouldn't want you acting like this, and Verity's going to need your support, she's barely managing as it is. If you collapse, who's going to help her through this."

"You-you're right, Verity needs me to be strong," John said as he fought back his tears. "It's just..." He sniffed. "How could anyone have done this to my baby, my Georgie? Who did it? D'you know?"

"I'm afraid not," Mitchell admitted. "We've barely begun investigating. It's liable to take us some time to figure out what happened, and who's responsible. We're doing everything we can, though," he assured him, "and we do have a suspect we're looking at. As soon as we have proof, we'll arrest him."

"Who is it?" John asked desperately as he grasped at the front of Mitchell's uniform. "Please, Lewis, you have to tell me, who did this to my beautiful baby girl? She never did anything to anyone, she was an angel; how could anyone hurt her like this?" He reached out to stroke Georgina's face, in doing so he dislodged the sheet covering her body. It was only the timely reactions of the morgue attendant that kept him from seeing the full extent of his daughter's injuries. What he saw was enough to break the veneer of control he had in place over his emotions and make him collapse again. "Oh god, oh god, oh my poor baby."

Melissa guessed that the suspect Mitchell had referred to was Zack Wild, and that made her uncomfortable, for in her mind they had nothing to justify making him a suspect. Even if Wild was guilty of the assaults listed in the file she had read, and that was not certain, it did not follow that he had committed murder. It seemed to her, and she did not like the thought, that her superior had latched onto Zack Wild as a suspect because he did not want the murderer to be someone he knew, someone he was friends with; she could understand him thinking like that, but didn't agree with it, because of the chance that the real suspect might get away.

She said nothing of her misgivings, however, sure that her sergeant wouldn't want to hear them.

"Are you certain it's Georgina back there, John?" Mitchell asked, a hand on her friend's shoulder as he steered him gently but firmly away from the sight that had caused him such distress. "I'll understand if you're not positive, it's hard to make an identification under such circumstances," he said, making it sound as though he had attended dozens. "There are other ways to be certain whether it's Georgina – dental records and the like."

John Ryder shook his head. "No. No, I'm sure, it's Georgie." Now that he could no longer see his daughter's brutalised body, he was much calmer, though no less grief-stricken. "I'd recognise her anywhere, even after what – what - what was done to her." He sobbed a couple of times before managing to finish what he was saying. "Even if I couldn't, she's wearing the earrings Verity and I gave her last Christmas." Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he allowed himself to be led along the passage.

"How - how did she die?" John asked as they approached the double-doors at the end of the passage.

Mitchell hesitated before answering, and Melissa was sure he was trying to decide how best to answer the question, without adding to his friend's distress.

"I'm afraid we don't know at the moment," Mitchell said, hoping he sounded believable. "We won't know the answer to that until the post-mortem; when is that happening?" he asked of the morgue attendant, who was escorting them out.

"Not sure it's been scheduled yet," Clark said. "It'll probably be Monday sometime, though, depending on how busy the pathologist is. If you want to know a definite time, you'll have to ring up Monday morning."

"Thanks, I will." Mitchell hoped the post-mortem would provide him with something that might prove who had killed Georgina. He suspected it was Zack Wild, but without proof, suspicion was all he had.

"Was, was..." John couldn't bring himself to finish the question, instead he closed his mouth with a snap and continued out of the building.