CHAPTER NINE
ROSIE
TheConstable recommended I didn’t see her, explaining that she was far toodisfigured and far too gone for me to even recognize her. So, I agreed to notlook at the body and instead identified her by a picture of a beauty mark onher neck.
Itwas her, there was no questioning that, and they sealed the deal by handing mea bag of her belongings. It wasn’t everything, there was still her luggage andthings at the inn she’d been staying at, but I would get that stuff later. Fornow, I was on my way to the crematorium with Constable Sharp, a round littleman who smelled of cheese and too much cologne.
“Wasyersister younger or older than ye?” he asked,taking his eyes from the road to glance at me.
“Younger,”I said. “I was nine when she was born.”
“Ah,so quite a bit younger, then.”
Inodded, clutching the bag of her belongings in my lap. “Yeah. Sometimes it feltmore like I was helping to raise her instead of being her big sister. It wasn’tuntil recently that we became really close.”
“Sucha shame,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Yeah,”I replied in a quiet voice, glancing at the bag of her clothes and jewelry andwhatever else. “It is.”
Therewasn’t any more conversation for the rest of the ride to the crematorium. Likethe police station, the crematorium was weathered and old, like it hadn’t beenmaintained for years. Constable Sharp led me inside and asked if I’d like himto stay, as the coroner removed the shrouded body of my sister from the back ofa van.
Shakingmy head, I replied, “No, thank you. I’m okay. But I appreciate everythingyou’ve all done. Really.”
Ihoped he would leave right away but he didn’t. “Ah, it’s fine, lass,” he said,placing a hand on my arm, the way the Chief Inspector had. His thumb strokedgently, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end with a warning. “Ifye needanythin’ elsedurin’yerstay, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks,”I replied, forcing myself to smile, while the coroner wheeled Gracie’s body in.
Thecrematorium technician approached with his hands folded carefully over hisstomach. He cleared his throat and waited for his opportunity to talk, whileConstable Sharp still lingered. As he finally released my arm and left with aquick nod of his head, I turned to the man with the folded hands and gave himmy full attention.
“Miss,we’regoin’ to prepare the body for cremation now,”he said in a grim monotone. “Wouldyelike a moment?”
Idid. I wanted a minute, a week, a whole year to say goodbye to my littlesister, but I wasn’t going to get it. That was taken from me the moment shedied, and that body in there was not Gracie. So, I shook my head and told himit was fine. I just wanted to have her ashes, get back to the hotel, and gohome.
Henodded and said it would be a while if I wanted to take a walk and grab a biteto eat, as if my stomach could handle any food. Then, he headed off tosomewhere in the building, and I took a seat in the cold, sterile waiting room.
Forthe first time in hours, I had a moment to truly sit and relax, but I couldn’trelax. My mind was racing too fast, with thoughts of my sister’s funeral, thehandling of her affairs, and how life could ever continue without her. I caughtmyself laughing gently and shaking my head, unable to believe that I was here,in this position, collecting the body of my little sister, and in Scotland noless. Life certainly has a way of taking us in unexpected directions, and Idefinitely hadn’tseen this one coming. Who would?
Itook a deep breath and settled back against the chair when the door swung openviolently and hit the wall beside it. A man in a rumpled shirt and pantshurried in, banging with his palm on the desk and then the wall leading in thedirection of the cremation technician.
“Hey!”he shouted, smacking his hands on every surface he could reach. “Hey! Stop thecremation! I need ye to stop!”
ClutchingGracie’s belongings to my chest, I stood up and approached the man, alreadyangry and on the defense, as I said, “Excuse me, who the hell do you think youare?”
Heturned to me, face flushed and hair windblown, as he rifled through his pantspocket and provided a badge. I peered at it carefully, as he said, “Miss Allan,I am Inspector Brodie, and I have reason to believe the autopsy ofyersister was performed incorrectly. I need to—”
Holdingtighter to the bag in my hands, I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, as Isaid, “Wait. Are you implying that you need to take my sister’s body and doanother autopsy?”
“Yes,”he replied simply. Then, he continued to hit the counter and walls, until thetechnician returned down the hall, clearly very annoyed.
“Whatthe hell are yedoin’?” he demanded, irritationreddening his cheeks.
“Ineed ye to stop the cremation, so that I can take a look at the—”
“No,”I cut in, firm and controlled.
Brodieturned to me; his surprise written plainly in his eyes. “Yedinnaeunderstand. I need—”
“No.Youdon’t understand. I am only here to bring my sister home, and that’sit. I do not need for you to hold me up any more than I already am.”
