Beautiful Death by Fiona McIntosh

hair. I’ll begin the internal examination. This is the nasty bit, Kate. Are you up to it?’
    ‘DCI Hawksworth will catch me if I fall, I’m sure.’
    ‘Why do you always get to be the knight in shining armour, Hawksworth?’
    Jack wasn’t enjoying the banter. He was watching the victim’s dark hair heavily unfolding, reminding him of Lily. A sharp tug of fear passed through him. He hated listening to this with Lily’s whereabouts unknown. He needed to make that call and set things straight with the team in charge of her missing-persons case. He hoped this post-mortem — his part in it at least — could be concluded quickly.
    ‘Right, your boss is clearly not interested in conversation with us, Kate, so I’ll just quietly go about my business.’
    Kate must have smiled or nodded, Jack didn’t know, because now he was staring at a mark on the corpse, just near her shoulder. He felt his breath catch.
    ‘What’s that mark at the top of her right arm?’ he asked. His voice sounded tight.
    Kent frowned, stepped around to look at thevictim’s right side. ‘Er, this? No, that’s not a bruise, Jack, just a birthmark . . . looks a bit like a tiny heart.’
    Jack froze. He must have let out a sound of some sort because Kent looked up quizzically, and he couldn’t be sure but Kate might have been squeezing his arm.
    ‘Sir?’ It was Kate. ‘Everything all right?’
    ‘What’s happening, Jack?’ Kent called out.
    Jack shook his head, numbing disbelief mingling with chilling despair. His mouth couldn’t form words.
    ‘Kate?’ Kent pressed.
    ‘Just give us a minute, Rob. Not sure what’s happening. DCI Hawksworth looks unwell.’
    ‘Then get him out of here,’ he replied, ‘although he’s done this enough times not to be squeamish. I suspect he’s been on the turps.’
    Jack looked at Kate bleakly. He saw all the confusion written across her face.
    ‘You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong,’ she urged.
    He heard a buzzer sound and Kent irritably answer. ‘Yes?’
    A disconnected voice replied. ‘The homicide team handling this has just given us details on the van. We’ve traced it. We’ve got a likely name and address for the victim, Dr Kent. It’s a Lily Wu. She’s twenty-nine.’
    ‘Thank you. I don’t need those details right now but have the file ready for when I do. Now, Jack? Are you —’
    Jack fled the gallery, mercifully knowing where the closest bathrooms were, and was heaving up breakfast in one of the cubicles, disinfectant fumes stinging his eyes.
    Lily? Surely this was a mistake. Or a nightmare. He was going to wake up and she would be at hisside and he would kiss the heart-shaped birthmark he’d kissed every morning they’d shared.
    ‘Jack!’ Kate was banging on the men’s bathroom door. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she took the chamber by storm. Kate had few sensibilities in that respect. He was right. Her fist had moved to the cubicle door that he had closed, but not locked.
    ‘Answer me. What is going on?’
    ‘Pretty obvious,’ he croaked.
    ‘Okay, okay,’ she said, easing the door open. ‘But why?’
    He sucked in a big breath of unpleasant air and wiped his mouth with toilet paper. He flushed. ‘Let me out, will you?’ He pulled open the door and took in the frightened concern in his colleague’s expressive face. He said nothing, proceeded to wash his face, clean out his mouth. He gargled long and loudly. Kate said nothing until he was drying his face with paper towels.
    ‘Now apart from the fact that I know you wouldn’t have tied one on last night, I also would have smelled it on you if you had. So that’s booze out of the equation,’ she said.
    ‘Does food poisoning work for you?’ Jack replied absently, his mind churning with fear and anger.
    ‘I’m not the bad guy here. If you’re sick, just say so. No need to be embarrassed.’
    He covered the snarl that came easily with a more reasonable expression. ‘I’m not sick, Kate, not in the