Desecration by J.F. Penn Page A

resignation at the depths of depravity to which humanity sometimes sank. She knew that Jenna was undertaking a specific study on the legal rights relating to corpses and body parts. Were these practices also related to the mysterious Lyceum?  
    She took some pictures of the articles and continued searching the desk, but there was nothing personal and no more evidence of Jenna’s investigation. She’d have to wait for the results of the tech team. Jamie rang through to Bowen and told him to expect them later that day. He thanked her, his voice courteous but she sensed that he had already moved on from the tragedy of Jenna’s death, his mind elsewhere.  
    Leaving the building, Jamie stood by the park looking across Lincoln’s Inn Fields back towards the Hunterian Museum, hunching her back against the freezing wind. Her mind was trying to capture the tendrils of suspicion that encircled this case, but in these pockets of calm, she could only think about Polly and what time she might make it back to see her. She lit a cigarette and inhaled the first, perfect drag.
    “You really should give it up, Jamie.”  
    Jamie turned to see Max Nester, one of the few men from work who could wring a smile from her serious demeanor. He ignored the fact that she was a woman and treated her like a blokey mate, albeit a prickly one, and she appreciated that. Max worked on the art theft and cultural crime that happened in the capital, a huge workload, since stealing specific artworks for collectors was a regular occurrence.  
    “Hey Max, are you on something local?”  
    “I was nearby and heard you’d been assigned to this murder case.” He paused. “How’s Polly?”  
    Jamie had told Max about Polly’s illness a while back and he was one of the few who knew how sick she really was. She knew his concern was that of a real friend, but she needed to keep the separation between her worlds intact. Otherwise she would just break down and bawl her eyes out here on the street.  
    “Not good,” she said, her voice constricted. “Best distract me, rather than talk about it.”
    “Sure thing. I did hear something about an ivory figurine being found and thought I’d drop by to see if I could help with identification.”
    Jamie smiled, taking another drag, the smoke curling up into the dying day. “I get it, you want in on the interesting artifact but not the dirty work of the murder.”  
    Max nodded. “You know me so well, but I’ve heard it may have been stolen from an as yet unknown collection so I think there’s some legitimate overlap.”  
    “I’d appreciate any help on it, actually. I’m not sure how it fits into the murder, but I want to understand whether Jenna was carrying it that night and why, or whether it was left at the scene by the murderer. It could be important, but I don’t know how we’re going to pursue that angle.”  
    Max took the cigarette from her hand and took a drag himself, an intimate gesture that Jamie wouldn’t have allowed from anyone else. But Max was only interested in slim, younger men, so she knew his attentions were only ever out of friendship. He passed it back again in smoker’s camaraderie, his face twisting into a grimace at the minty aftertaste.  
    “Can’t you smoke something decent?” He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “If you’ve got nothing else, this guy might be able to help. Blake Daniel, at the British Museum. Here’s his number, but I know he’s there today if you want to drop by. He’s a specialist in religious relics and figurines so I think this would be right down his alley.” He paused, then grinned. “Bit of a looker, too.”
    Jamie smiled and took the paper. “Thanks, that’s a great help.” She noticed Max bite his lip. “So what aren’t you telling me?”  
    Max sighed. “To be honest, Jamie, you’ll probably think this is crazy. But he has certain - abilities - that make him unusual.”
    Jamie raised her eyebrows. “Sounds even