“S-sorry,” he said, sliding the yellow-tinted protectors over his eyes.
Maya flicked off the lights, bathing the room in darkness before the purple black light cast a blinding glare over the table. When Pember’s eyes adjusted, he saw what appeared to be paint splatters across a white T-shirt as it lay stretched between a cluster of holding pegs.
“Jesus,” Maya said, tone turning grave. “Someone had a hell of a party.”
Pember swallowed. “Semen, right? Because of the blue colour?”
He felt more than saw Maya nod in the darkness. “The victim was gang raped in a car. All of them were alphas. It was cold, so the heaters were on, and it looks like the seminal fluid dried quickly.”
Pember clenched his jaw as he looked at the shirt. “Which means we’ll be more likely to find intact sperm heads, right?”
Maya hummed. “Correct, so hopefully we’ll get at least one positive hit. Grab the camera?”
Pember lifted the forensic camera by the strap. It was much heavier than he’d expected and he had to hold it up with both hands.
“When did this happen?” he said, staring at the stained T-shirt through the viewfinder.
“Three weeks ago. The main swabs were sent to London to be fast-tracked. We’re picking up everything else slow time.”
The garment was small, but had a straight waistline designed for a male body. No branding, basic cut, and it had obviously been worn a lot if the slight staining under the armpits was anything to go by. Unremarkable, save for the multiple flashes of blue spattering the fabric under the black light.
The gravity of the situation hit him like a tonne of bricks.This was happening.These things wereactuallyhappening to other people. Normal people, who wore normal clothes. And it dawned on him that he could have ended up as just another statistic the previous year.
“Was the—” He swallowed again, suddenly feeling breathless. “Was the victim an omega?”
He glanced at Maya, and could see the shine of her eyes in the darkness. “Yeah,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Horrific, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “And this… this happened in West Newton?”
She shook her head. “Falkington. We get a lot of work for the cross-border forces ever since the lab was upgraded.”
Pember let out a breath, slowly lowering the camera. “And how… how often do you get jobs like this?”
Maya’s eyes were on him again, her eyelashes twitching as if she were trying to read his expression. She bumped his shoulder. “Every other day. Not always omegas, and not always so many offenders. But almost always alphas. High Enfield’s the worst for sexual crimes.”
Pember remained silent, letting the words sink in before lifting the camera again. Maya raised the light, and he began wordlessly photographing the shirt.
With every click of the flash he felt the lead weight in his stomach growing heavier and heavier. His brain conjured every unimaginable scenario that the victim could have been through, picturing their face, twisted in fear, arms and legs pinned down?—
“Hey,” Maya said, snapping her fingers in front of his face again. “Take a breath. Put up a wall. Whatever you need to do. Just don’t imagine it or it’ll drive you mad.”
Pember cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
Maya shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. Lifting the veil is never easy.”
“The veil?”
“Yeah. Seeing the world for what it really is. Warts and all. Just remember that youcannottake ownership of other people’s trauma. Try to stay in the here and now. Only assess what’s in front of you.”
Pember nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Happy with the pictures?” Maya said, plucking a Sharpie from a drawer under the table.
“Y-yeah. Do you want me to mark it?”
She nodded, so he put down the camera, took the pen and began carefully marking out the various splatter marks and spray patterns. By the time he’d finished, the item looked like a child’s poorly thought-out drawing.
Maya flicked on the light. “Beautiful. Congratulations, you’ve produced your first piece of evidential material. Remember how to collect samples?”
