Chapter 3- "The funeral"

"Ma'am, they've collected the...the remainders of the body" said Lee, who was standing at her office door. Gill took her glasses off her nose and sighed.

"Thanks" she said, nodding at him. "And, have we got an official ID on the...what's left?"

"The body itself seemed to have fallen from the car before the car made contact with the machinery. It was wedged to the side of one of the...the bits that crushed the car, which is why there was no visible evidence on the scrap metal when it was pulled from the machine."

Gill nodded slowly, as Lee continued.

"We're hoping for an identification from the police DNA database within the next 12 hours. Apparently the body was cut cleanly by a sharp edge, but after the car was fully crushed, most of the body was then dislodged, and...well..."

"Crushed?" whispered Gill helpfully.

"More like minced" Lee sighed, and Gill winced. She was used to receiving gory details, but never before had it been someone she knew. Someone who, just 24 hours ago, had been asleep just outside her window, mumbling about pigs, and crushing the remainder of the chocolate biscuit he'd been eating into her misspelt name on an important document. Gill nodded at Lee and he left, shutting the door behind him.

For a while she sat there, swinging her glasses in her hand, and staring out onto Kevin's desk, as she so often did. Gill never realised how fond of the sight of Kevin looking confused she actually was. His face as he read something, looking momentarily disheartened, then realising it was the wrong way up and turning it round the right way to read it again, was something Gill had seen so many times. She couldn't believe how much she missed it already. How alive it had made her feel to realise that she had taken someone on from Syndicate 3,-someone that her good friend Julie Dodson had termed 'a hopeless case, whose mental furniture would always stay in storage'- and turned him into someone who occasionally showed real progress, and had become so important to the team she had grown to love. Had she, actually, grown to love Kevin? She surprised herself by letting out a small giggle at the thought.

What about the funeral? Gill could imagine it quite clearly.

There would be a group of people that Gill had only been briefly introduced to as Kevin's immediate family. They would all be civil to her, whilst secretly thinking, 'that's the bitch that encouraged my son to continue in the police'. And whilst they went on about how wonderful and perfect Kevin was, Gill would feel the need to make a swift excuse to get away before inappropriately scoffing at what 'darling Kevin' had been like. All the women would be dressed in the black clothes that they so often had to pull out for a victim's funeral, but this time Gill would replace her blood-red painted fingernails for a respectable black polish. Janet would be standing by Rachel. They would both be wearing expressions of grief, but this would be portrayed differently in each of their faces. Janet would be solemn, her blue eyes clouded with tears. Sorrow and guilt would be etched onto every feature of her face. Gill knew that Janet blamed herself. She hadn't been a Sergeant long, and she'd allowed Kevin and Rachel to go into that yard alone. Gill mentally reminded herself to have a word with Janet about this. Make sure she knew that it wasn't her fault.

Rachel's face, on the other hand, was more difficult to predict. It would definitely be different to Janet's, and yet she knew that Rachel also blamed herself. She was trapped at the time Kevin was in trouble, but she had left him to hide in the car, and she had witnessed him being lifted away by the great machine. She could imagine Rachel making small talk with the occasional person who might ask her 'what was Kevin like to work with?' Gill could see Rachel clearly in her mind, her eyes darting this way and that as she tried to find the appropriate words to describe Kevin in a way that was not untruthful, but far from an accurate representation. Rachel would then offer her condolences to the family, turn to Janet whispering "Pub?" and probably trip over something on the way out of the graveyard. Gill nearly let out another giggle. What was wrong with her? First the thought of Kevin, now the thought of Rachel, seemed both highly amusing too her. It was at this moment Gill realised that, incompetent as both of them occasionally- actually, in Kevin's case, a large majority of the time- were, she really valued the young, fresh spirit they brought to the team. It wasn't often that you'd find a young detective as driven as Rachel...or a young detective as daft as Kevin! As Kevin had been...

Gill considered what role she herself would be playing at his funeral. She imagined herself trying to avoid small-talk with anyone throughout both the service and the burial. She'd probably be found standing outside alone. Actually, no, she'd stand with her good friend Julie Dodson. SHIT. Had anyone told Julie? She'd been Kevin's superior just a couple of years ago. She wouldn't be happy to hear the news down the copper's grapevine in a week's time!

Gill picked up the telephone and dialled through to Syndicate 3. Julie Dodson was not an easy woman to get hold of. She never appreciated her mobile phone ringing when she was on duty, unless it was pertinent to her current case. However, this meant that Gill had to ring the general office of Syndicate 3, and would probably spend 10 minutes of her precious life on the phone to a gormless uniform. "Hello, Manchester Metropolitan Police, Syndicate 3, this is Mark speaking, how may I help?" His voice sounded bored. Gill couldn't comprehend how many times the kid had probably said that same sentence in the past few weeks.

"Hi, DCI Gill Murray, Sydicate 9, I'd like to speak to DCI Julie Dodson if that's possible?"

"Of course ma'am, I'll put you through" Good, at least she wasn't in a meeting.

"Julie Dodson" It was the same voice. Full of authority.

Gill paused, not sure what to say. In the end, she went for her old favourite, "Hiya Slap", but it was nowhere near as enthusiastic as usual.

"I hope you've got a very good reason for ringing me, I was right in the middle of something VERY important" She was heading straight into the banter that Gill usually enjoyed. She obviously hadn't heard.

"Well..." Gill really didn't know how to say it. She couldn't really predict how her friend would react. She didn't like Kevin, and had made it her mission to see that he never got to tier 3 interview whilst he was under her command, after realising she didn't have enough grounds to remove him from MIT altogether. But nobody like to hear that someone they knew...had known...was dead.

"Do you really think I'm going to lower the tone of my joyful existence, waiting for you to get your words out?"

"Kevin's dead." Gill just blurted out. She couldn't think of any other way to stop Julie, and she knew she couldn't have her talking in this light-hearted, jokey way, when Gill had something so important to tell her.

"What?" Julie said, and Gill heard her laugh on the other end of the phone. Of course Julie would think she was joking, especially after the number of times Gill had moaned about wanting to murder Kevin. "I'll get away with it, because I know how" she'd slurred to Julie one drunken evening. Julie had just laughed and bought her another drink.

There was a long pause.

"Gill?"

"I'm not..."

"Gill?" Julie said again. She'd stopped laughing, and her voice had adopted a very serious tone.

"He was killed last night."

"No." Julie seemed to be finding it hard to speak. "You're joking...no?"

"I thought someone might have informed you this morning" Gill said quietly.

"I'm coming over." Julie said quickly. And before Gill could say anything else, her friend had put the phone down.