Read Online DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 by Kerry Wilkinson - Free Book Online
Authors: Kerry Wilkinson
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perched her on the edge of a desk and was trying to get her to twist her head to the side and smile. Jessica thought she
was
smiling but,
apparently, whatever look she was giving wasn’t good enough.
‘That’s brilliant,’ the photographer said as his camera flash went off again. ‘Right, a couple more. Look down a bit, please.’ Jessica tilted her head once more.
‘No, further down,’ the photographer added.
‘I
am
looking down.’
‘No, tilt your head down then look up.’
‘I thought you wanted me to look down?’
‘No, angle down, eyes up.’
Part of Jessica’s job involved trying to get into the minds of criminals and finding out why they did what they did. As she tried to force another smile, she thought the unrelenting
cheerfulness in the photographer’s voice went some way to helping her understand what could make a person turn to violence. If anyone was unfortunate enough to share a house with this man and
ended up smacking him in his gormless, grinning face, she thought a plea of temporary insanity would be a very easy sell for a solicitor.
‘Right, that’s brilliant,’ the photographer announced, finally lowering the camera. Jessica didn’t give him an opportunity to add a ‘Let’s just try this . .
.’ before standing and storming past him out of the room.
Jessica was well aware she had always been short-tempered. She could remember being a child and her mother telling her to ‘count to ten’. The problem was she would get to two,
occasionally three, and be too frustrated to get anywhere near ten. She knew there was undoubtedly a psychologist, psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, or some other person who stuck the letter
‘p’ randomly at the beginning of their title who was waiting to pick her apart one day. She figured the more time she spent around joyful photographers, the sooner that day would
come.
Jessica stomped through reception and headed out of the station towards her car, her mood not improving as yet again it had begun to drizzle and she had again forgotten to bring a jacket. She
dashed across the car park and struggled to unlock her car before finally hurling herself onto the driver’s seat and slamming the door. She took a deep breath – another piece of advice
from her mother about keeping cool – and realised that a lot of her annoyance was down to the fact she hadn’t been looking forward to the day anyway.
Cole had called her the previous evening to say that Isaac Hutchings’s mother had asked if she could speak to the person who found her son’s body. In policing terms there was no
particular need for Jessica to visit her because other officers had been dealing with the initial missing child aspect of the case, and a support officer would also be assigned. The woman had given
several statements and certainly wasn’t a suspect. Despite all of that – and even after the chief inspector said it was her call – there was no way Jessica was going to deny a
grieving mother such a simple request.
That didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.
Everyone in the force had experience of breaking bad news or dealing with people coping with extreme situations but there was no textbook to predict how a mother who had just lost a child would
react.
Izzy was still in the process of looking through unsolved cases. The task was complicated because a computer system upgrade a few years previously had copied some files but not others.
Everything was a mix of digital information and actual paper trails. After Cole’s call the previous evening, Jessica thought about taking Izzy with her to see Isaac’s mother but figured
it would be pretty insensitive given her friend was pregnant. Not to mention it would be for Jessica’s own indulgence when the officer would be better employed going over the old files.
Jessica drove through the rain to the address she had printed off. The Hutchingses’ house was pretty similar to the one Daisy Peters was renting a few
was
smiling but,
apparently, whatever look she was giving wasn’t good enough.
‘That’s brilliant,’ the photographer said as his camera flash went off again. ‘Right, a couple more. Look down a bit, please.’ Jessica tilted her head once more.
‘No, further down,’ the photographer added.
‘I
am
looking down.’
‘No, tilt your head down then look up.’
‘I thought you wanted me to look down?’
‘No, angle down, eyes up.’
Part of Jessica’s job involved trying to get into the minds of criminals and finding out why they did what they did. As she tried to force another smile, she thought the unrelenting
cheerfulness in the photographer’s voice went some way to helping her understand what could make a person turn to violence. If anyone was unfortunate enough to share a house with this man and
ended up smacking him in his gormless, grinning face, she thought a plea of temporary insanity would be a very easy sell for a solicitor.
‘Right, that’s brilliant,’ the photographer announced, finally lowering the camera. Jessica didn’t give him an opportunity to add a ‘Let’s just try this . .
.’ before standing and storming past him out of the room.
Jessica was well aware she had always been short-tempered. She could remember being a child and her mother telling her to ‘count to ten’. The problem was she would get to two,
occasionally three, and be too frustrated to get anywhere near ten. She knew there was undoubtedly a psychologist, psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, or some other person who stuck the letter
‘p’ randomly at the beginning of their title who was waiting to pick her apart one day. She figured the more time she spent around joyful photographers, the sooner that day would
come.
Jessica stomped through reception and headed out of the station towards her car, her mood not improving as yet again it had begun to drizzle and she had again forgotten to bring a jacket. She
dashed across the car park and struggled to unlock her car before finally hurling herself onto the driver’s seat and slamming the door. She took a deep breath – another piece of advice
from her mother about keeping cool – and realised that a lot of her annoyance was down to the fact she hadn’t been looking forward to the day anyway.
Cole had called her the previous evening to say that Isaac Hutchings’s mother had asked if she could speak to the person who found her son’s body. In policing terms there was no
particular need for Jessica to visit her because other officers had been dealing with the initial missing child aspect of the case, and a support officer would also be assigned. The woman had given
several statements and certainly wasn’t a suspect. Despite all of that – and even after the chief inspector said it was her call – there was no way Jessica was going to deny a
grieving mother such a simple request.
That didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.
Everyone in the force had experience of breaking bad news or dealing with people coping with extreme situations but there was no textbook to predict how a mother who had just lost a child would
react.
Izzy was still in the process of looking through unsolved cases. The task was complicated because a computer system upgrade a few years previously had copied some files but not others.
Everything was a mix of digital information and actual paper trails. After Cole’s call the previous evening, Jessica thought about taking Izzy with her to see Isaac’s mother but figured
it would be pretty insensitive given her friend was pregnant. Not to mention it would be for Jessica’s own indulgence when the officer would be better employed going over the old files.
Jessica drove through the rain to the address she had printed off. The Hutchingses’ house was pretty similar to the one Daisy Peters was renting a few
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