They left the house, and Whitney let out a long sigh. Delivering news of an accident or death never got any easier however many times she did it. If she was with anyone else, she’d have suggested they stopped at the pub for a drink to settle the nerves. She didn’t think Jamieson would appreciate that. Plus, she didn’t want to spend more time in his company than necessary.
‘You did well,’ Jamieson said once they were in the car.
‘It’s a horrible job. We go in and destroy their lives for ever. I don’t know how they’re going to cope.’
‘The same as we all cope in these situations. They’ll get on with the rest of their lives. The pain will always be there, but it will subside in time,’ he replied.
Whitney glanced across at him, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of them. She hadn’t expected to hear compassion in his voice. Was he speaking from personal experience?
‘You’ve had something like that happen to you?’ she asked before she was able to stop herself.
‘No. But I read a psychological paper on the delivery of bad news in my preparation for this job. I knew I’d come across situations like this, so I wanted to know what to expect.’
Just when she thought she’d seen a more human side of him, he showed his true colours. It was all academic theory to him. She didn’t fault him wanting to be informed, but it didn’t beat actually experiencing situations.
‘Great,’ she said, with little enthusiasm.
‘What’s your issue, Walker?’
‘Nothing, sir.’ She looked to the front, avoiding any eye contact with him.
‘You really need to deal with that chip on your shoulder. Because if you don’t, it will get in the way of your career. This is twenty-first century policing. You need to get your head out of the seventies and realise it’s all about metrics and social media.’
Whitney tensed. How dare he imply she was stuck in the seventies? For a start, she hadn’t even been born then, and she certainly didn’t operate like the police did in those days. Convictions at all costs. She’d show him who the better police officer was, and it wouldn’t be him.
Chapter Six
George stared out of her window onto the quad. She’d just come from the Head of Department’s office. He’d decided to let classes continue, as there had been no official announcement of Millie’s death. It would give him time to put in place some extra counsellors and to speak to the divisional head regarding how she wanted the whole affair to be managed.
She’d agreed with his response; however, she had her tutorial group in five minutes, and she’d decided to tell them. She wanted them to hear about it personally.
Picking up her briefcase, she went to the small lecture room where they were meeting. She’d deliberately arrived a few minutes late to make sure they were all there.
‘You’re late, Dr Cavendish,’ one of them quipped as she entered the room.
‘Sorry. Are you all here?’ She quickly checked out the group.
‘Except Millie,’ Lisa, one of the more vocal students, said.
George pulled up a chair and joined the circle they always sat in during a tutorial. It was more intimate than sitting behind desks and ensured everyone would contribute more to the subject under discussion.
Eager faces stared at her. They were totally unaware their day was about to be ruined.
Their lives changed forever.
Her fists clenched by her side. ‘I’ve got some bad news for you about Millie. There’s been an incident.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry to tell you Millie’s dead.’
After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, several of the students started to cry.
‘What happened?’ Seb asked.
How much was she allowed to say? DCI Walker hadn’t said not to say anything. Which in George’s view was remiss of her. But the murder would be in the media soon enough. Millie’s fellow students deserved to know the truth.
‘Her body was found near the river this morning. The circumstances of her death are suspicious.’ She wasn’t going to tell them she’d been the one to find the body, even though they’d probably find out.
She dug her nails into her leg and forced herself to breathe. It helped steady her, and she returned their gaze. ‘The university counsellors are available if you’d like to speak to one of them. We won’t have the tutorial today. I’m here if you want to stay and talk, or if you’d like to take the rest of the day off, I’ll make sure your other lecturers know.’
There was a knock at the door, and the officer she’d seen earlier walked in. She got up and walked over to him.
‘DS Price,’ he said. ‘We spoke this morning.’
‘Yes. I recognise you. Do you need my help?’ The DCI must have changed her mind.
‘Not exactly. Have you told the students about Millie Carter?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Just now.’
‘We’d like to speak to them. Is there somewhere we can do that?’
‘There’s an empty class next door. Go there and I’ll send them in.’
She waited for them to leave and went back to the students.
‘That was the police. They’d like to speak to you about Millie. They’re in the class next door.’
They all shuffled out of the classroom, apart from Lisa who remained seated, her face pale. George moved and sat next to her. ‘Were you very close to Millie?’ she asked gently.
‘We were in the same hall of residence in our first year. Our rooms were next door, so we saw a lot of each other back then. I moved in with my boyfriend in our second year, and she lived with several girls in a flat in town.’ Tears filled Lisa’s eyes, and George passed her a tissue, which she used to wipe her eyes and then scrunched up in her hand.
‘Did you see Millie socially?’
‘Not really. I tend to hang with my boyfriend and his friends. I’d sometimes see her at parties, or in the pub, but we haven’t been out together in a long time. We mainly caught up during lectures and tutorials or for a coffee. I can’t believe she’s not here.’ Tears streamed down her face, and she wiped them away.
George patted her gently on the hand, unsure whether putting her arm around Lisa’s shoulders was appropriate. Physical displays of emotion always left her uncomfortable.
‘Why don’t you call your boyfriend and ask him to come and meet you? You don’t want to be alone at a time like this.’ It was all she could think of to suggest.
‘I can’t believe I’ll never see Millie again.’ Lisa’s shoulders slumped.
‘When did you last see her outside of classes?’
She couldn’t sit back and wait for the police to come up with something.
She wanted to help.
She needed to help.
The fact she found the body. The fact Millie was her student. It had to mean something.
Millie’s death, the way she was posed, was definitely a signature. If she could find out more information, she might be able to come up with a profile to help the police and catch the bastard who’d done it.
To make sure they didn’t hurt anyone else.
Lisa was silent for a moment. ‘I think it was the weekend before last. She was at a party I went to.’