“Do you know how she died, doctor?”
“No. But then I’m not a medical doctor. My specialty is archaeology and ancient history.”
He cleared his throat and continued, “But there’s nothing obvious, like a wound or blood. In fact, she looks very peaceful resting against the stone. You do hear of young people having heart attacks, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Keya confirmed. “It does happen.” But to Daisy? she thought. “Can you show me the body?”
Again, Keya felt all eyes trained on her as she stepped inside the stone circle. She shivered as she felt a cold, unpleasant sensation, despite the warmth of the fire and the sun climbing in the sky.
She turned to face the stones, and there, sitting down but slumped against one of the stones, was the pale figure of Daisy.
CHAPTER TEN
Daisy did look peaceful as she leaned against the irregular and pitted stone which was covered in shades of green lichen. Her waist-length hair was spread over her shoulders and the blonde streaks caught the early morning rays of sunshine. A crown of wildflowers was resting on her head.
Using the end of her pen, Keya gently lifted the home-made circle of flowers, but she didn’t see any blood beneath it.
As the non-medical Dr Reid had said, there was no apparent cause of death.
Keya straightened up and realised that the crowd of people beyond the makeshift cordon was swelling, which hopefully meant fewer people on the roadside. But she didn’t want them coming any closer to the crime scene. If indeed a crime had been committed. At the moment, that was far from clear.
But Daisy’s passing was certainly suspicious, and investigating such deaths was part of her role as a police officer.
Watching the crowd press forward, she asked, “Who put up the cordon, Dr Reid?”
“I did, with Dora’s help.”
Keya hadn’t seen the thin, grey-haired Dora, but Dr Reid raised his hat again and she appeared from further round the stone circle.
Keya removed a roll of white tape with ‘police’ stamped on it in blue letters.
She handed it to Dr Reid, who said, “Dora, I believe Sergeant Varma would like us to make the cordon official. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”
“Yes, and longer. From the fence beside the entrance to the one surrounding the wood on the edge of the field, please.”
“What about Daisy?” Dora implored.
“Leave the police to deal with her,” Dr Reid responded, in a tone which implied it was none of Dora’s business.
Dora paled to such an extent the colour of her face matched her hair.
Concerned, Keya responded, “I have to wait for the coroner and the crime scene technician to arrive.” Then she added, “But she’ll come to no harm sitting out in the sunshine.”
This seemed to satisfy Dora.
As Dr Reid and Dora moved towards the crowd, there was a shout from the edge of it, and a parting of bodies.
“Daisy. Where’s my Daisy?” cried a middle-aged woman wearing a pair of faded jeans, a pale blue T-shirt and a thin white nylon cardigan.
Dr Reid attempted to intercept her as he called loudly, “Doreen.”
Ignoring him, the woman’s gaze latched onto Keya, and she hurried towards her.
Keya stepped out of the stone circle and immediately felt lighter, with a clearer head. Soft sunshine warmed her face.
“Can I help you, Mrs…?” Keya asked the approaching woman.
“Skinner. Mrs Skinner, but where is my Daisy?”
“Daisy Bentham?” Keya clarified.
“Yes, she’s my daughter and there’s a terrible rumour in the village that she’s …”
Mrs Skinner couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence as she wrung her hands together.
“I really am very sorry, Mrs Skinner, but I’m afraid Daisy has passed away.” Keya wasn’t sure why she used such an old-fashioned phrase, but it seemed a gentler one to use for this grieving mother.
But it didn’t seem to help.
“Where? Where is she?” Mrs Skinner pushed past Keya, stepped into the stone circle, and turned towards her dead daughter.
As Keya followed quickly, Daisy’s mother slumped to her knees and cried, “No, Daisy. It can’t be. There must be some mistake. Not you. You can’t be dead.”
Keya gently, but firmly, pulled the distraught woman to her feet and said in a sympathetic tone, “I’m afraid she is.”
Mrs Skinner attempted to break away, but Keya gripped her arm more firmly and added, “And until we establish how she died, we mustn’t disturb her.” These were the most delicate words Keya could think of to describe the crime scene.
