Read Online Dead on Demand (A DCI Morton Crime Novel) by Sean Campbell, Daniel Campbell - Free Book Online Page A

so she could sit down, gave her a bunch of flowers that he'd picked up at the station kiosk, and proceeded to order a bottle of Bordeaux.
    'What's up, babe?' he had asked.
    'I don't think this is going to work.'
    'We can always go to another restaurant.'
    'No, Barry, I mean us. It's over.'
    'Why?'
    'No reason. We just drifted apart. It's not you, it's me.'
    Barry's cheeks flushed red. He'd heard that line before. The next line was a classic too.
    'We can still be friends, right?'

CHAPTER 11: CONFIRMATION
    The search of the Murphy residence performed by Missing Persons was cursory at best. They picked up a recent photo, supplied by the husband, and obtained a DNA sample from a hairbrush in Eleanor's en-suite.
    Nothing was missing from the house, suggesting robbery was not the motive despite Eleanor's door key going missing. It would have been a plum target for a daytime robbery; the Murphys lived a comfortable lifestyle.
    The order had come from above not to waste too much time. The legendary DCI David Morton was almost certain that the missing person in question was his Jane Bloggs. The Missing Persons team got in and out, and sent the sample straight to Forensics for analysis.
    ***
    Morton's BlackBerry beeped loudly. He hated carrying two phones, but the force insisted. Everywhere he went he was at the Met's beck and call.
    'Detective Chief Inspector Morton, this is Stuart from Forensics. I compared Jane Bloggs with a photo of Eleanor Murphy obtained from the husband by Missing Persons so I went ahead and performed DNA analysis. DNA confirms our Jane Bloggs is Mrs Eleanor Murphy. All sixteen alleles match.'
    'Good work. Call the husband in to ID the body – and video his reaction for Dr Jensen to analyse.' Reaction filtering was a new technique. Potential suspects in violent crimes such as the husband, ex or other persons of interest would be targeted with visual stimuli such as the body or photos of the crime scene. This would be caught on camera, and the resident psychologist would then review the footage to determine if the reaction was normal, and if not, why not.
    It was a technique Dr Jensen had pioneered during his PhD in Forensic Psychology. It certainly wasn't mainstream yet, but Morton was willing to try anything that would give him an edge.
    ***
    The police had called about an hour earlier. They thought that Eleanor's body may have been found, and needed next of kin to identify the body. What Edwin didn't know was they were recording the phone call. It was expected he would be under stress but Dr Jensen wanted to use the pitch, tone and timbre of his voice to record which parts of the call he found most stressful.
    'Hello?' Edwin's voice was rich, melodious, with a slight hint of that singsong lilt many of Irish descent possess.
    'Good morning, Mr Murphy. This is Missing Persons.'
    'What can I do for you?' His voice was slightly faster now, a little higher. It wasn't much, but Dr Jensen set this as his baseline, the stress level against which the rest of the conversation would be measured.
    'We may have found your wife's body, Mr Murphy. I'm sorry.'
    There was a telling delay before the sobbing began. It was only microseconds, and a normal person would never have picked up on it, but the software was exacting. It was the same software used by insurance companies to weed out fraudulent claims.
    'Oh, oh God. What happened?' Murphy was pretty convincing, but Dr Jensen's gut reaction was that Edwin Murphy knew his wife was dead, but he didn't know the circumstances of her death. That didn't quite make logical sense yet, but it was his instinctive take on the situation. Dr Jensen was the first to admit his potential fallibility, but he was right more often than not.
    'We're not entirely sure yet I'm afraid, Mr Murphy. DNA isn't back yet,' Jensen lied. 'Are you available to come down to the station to ID the body?'
    'Yes, yes, of course. Let me drop my daughter at a friend's house, and I'll come straight down.' The