The Fenghuang Legacy

By DG Hunt

A vicious attack on a young girl.
A wife harbouring a secret.
A shadow from the past hell-bent on revenge.
Forensic Dentist Chrissie Chilvers always goes that extra mile on a case. But this time, is she too involved?
A young girl is attacked. She is Lian, the only child of renowned Pan Asian ballerina, Adita, and step daughter of Richard Boothby, the British Consulate General to Israel. Chrissie is called in to examine the case. Together with Detective Chief Inspector Bob Jenner, they are plunged in to a perilous investigation involving heroin manufacturing, terrorism, kidnapping and murder.
Will they solve the case in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DG Hunt
• Release date: Mar 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9789995903916

DG Hunt

A BIT ABOUT MEDeborah lives in the Ardennes region of Northern Luxembourg with her husband.Born in Hertfordshire, she spent the best part of her childhood in South Africa, before being despatched to a boarding school in England, aged eleven.Half way through A level’s, she expressed her long held desire to write, or enter journalism. The advice she received was to go away and get married! One week later, she walked away from the hated school with a handful of mediocre O-levels, clueless what to do next.After an abortive career as a beauty therapist, she applied for a job in dentistry, intending it to be an interim measure. That stop gap career move lasted forty years; despite the initial minorirritation of fainting when assisting at her first general anaesthetic.Deborah created the character of Chrissie Chilvers with the intention of writing a thriller that immersed the reader in the emotions, compassion, friendship, camaraderie and at times humour, of working forensic cases.

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CHAPTER 1

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 31ST – LONDON, ENGLAND

My heart missed a beat as my body took exception at being jolted from deep sleep to semi-consciousness in one shrill ring of the telephone. Dry mouthed I answered, focusing on the alarm clock’s LCD numbers – 4:30am. Not good news.

Chrissie... Is that you?

Desperately collecting my thoughts. Yes. Who’s this?

Sorry to wake you, it’s Bob... Bob Jenner. We need your help!

Instant calm ran through me. After all these years a ringing phone in the middle of the night was still like an electric shock – a harbinger of bad news – but this, thank God, was work not a personal crisis.

Bob, and I, or Detective Chief Inspector as he now is, went back years. Our paths first crossed when he was a young sergeant. I’d gained my Masters of Science in Forensic Dentistry, or Forensic Odontology to give the discipline its proper name, and joined MAIDs (Medical Action in Disasters), an organisation that sends medical teams and various personnel to major incidents worldwide.

He was talking so quickly I had to muster my efforts to get the gist of what he was saying. A routine patrol unit found a child in her nightdress wandering the streets. She’s been admitted to University College Hospital where the duty doctor diagnosed a broken arm. He also spotted suspicious marks that could be bites. Can you take a look?

Of course, on my way. Hang on. How come you’re involved, sounds a bit out of your normal remit?

She’s the stepdaughter of Richard Boothby, the British Consulate General in Israel, name Lian, aged nine. I heard a commotion in the background. Sorry Chrissie, got to go. See you at the hospital. Cheers. The line went dead.

Within twenty minutes I was driving towards the hospital, sipping coffee from a travel beaker pondering over the child I was going to see. How on earth did a British Consulate’s daughter come to be requiring my services?

Bite marks are tricky things to identify in the living; the body’s defences kick in rapidly and the healing process alters appearances, hence an early examination is paramount. I hoped and prayed she wasn’t too traumatised; I was going to need her full cooperation.

Utilising the rat runs, London was as busy as ever; the traffic never abated, just eased off slightly. I had to be on the ball. Radar cameras were popping up everywhere like dandelions and they never stopped working, that much was certain.

To my relief due to the early hour, parking was easy. Exiting the lift on the sixth floor of the children’s department I spotted Bob at the far end of the corridor chatting to a nursing sister, not that you could miss him, standing at over six feet tall in a dark suit surrounded by murals of nursery rhyme characters.

Morning, I mouthed, quietly wheeling my evidence kit, not wanting to disturb the patients. Drawing closer I noticed how tired he looked. The hint of violet circles forming under his eyes magnified his pale complexion and black hair and the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow enhanced the total effect of weariness. He introduced me to Robyn, head of the nursing team looking after the child, who confirmed their young patient hadn’t been washed since admission, but had had blood tests. Music to my ears; if bites had been inflicted I stood a chance of retrieving a saliva sample for testing. Having briefed me with what little information he had, Bob explained the child happily gave all her personal details, but immediately clammed up when asked what had happened.

Where in Israel are her parents? I questioned.

Jerusalem, due to fly home tomorrow. Lian is at boarding school in this country.

Robyn smiled with that air of experience of someone who’d been working in her field for a considerable amount of time. Give her time, she’s actually quite chatty. If you come with me, Dr Chilvers, I’ll introduce you to her and you can get started.

Thank you. First, as she’s in your care, I need you to sign a consent form confirming I have your authority to examine her.

Robyn took the form, I understand, these legalities must be adhered to.

With that formality over she led me to a side ward, knocked on a door, and we entered together.

Hi Lian, this is Chrissie, she’s another doctor come to see you. Is that okay? she enquired gently.

The little girl sitting up in bed nodded, her left arm resting in a sling across her chest. Her appearance took me completely unawares, thick jet black hair cut in a bob, fine bone structure and dark almond shaped eyes. I’d expected the British Consulate General’s daughter to be true Caucasoid, visualising the jolly hockey sticks brigade; this child was definitely of oriental origin. Chastising myself for being bigoted and jumping to conclusions, I approached the bed.

Hello Lian, I’m Chrissie Chilvers. Actually I’m a dentist.

My greeting was received with a puzzled look and a very guarded, Hello.

Do you mind if I sit down? I asked pulling up a chair. Have you ever been to see a dentist?

Yes, every six months, Dr Lowe in Basingstoke. He’s really nice, she added, giving the firm impression that she already had a dentist and certainly didn’t require the services of another.

I see families just like Dr Lowe, but I also do forensics. Do you know what that is?

Sort of, I’ve seen it on the telly.

Well, a bit like on the telly, I look at different marks on objects, people’s skin, even sometimes on animals, because marks can tell a story.

She gave me a baffled look; this was not going to be easy. I ploughed on, The doctor treating your arm asked me to take a look at your bruises. I caught sight of a fruit bowl out the corner of my eye. May I have a couple of those apples please?

Studying me intently, she nodded in the affirmative.

Look, I’ll show you what I mean. I handed her an apple, retaining one for myself. Do you want to join in Robyn?

Robyn helped herself, Why not, sounds like fun.

If we all take a bite at the same time, I instructed. It was like the three wise monkeys, dutifully biting in unison.

Right, now let’s take a look. May I have yours back please Lian? I turned to Robyn, And yours please. Pulling up the hospital over-bed table, I lined up the three pieces of fruit for inspection and under everyone’s scrutiny began pointing out the differences using a biro. Look where we’ve each taken a bite, they’re all completely different. Lian, we can see your top front teeth are relatively new compared to ours; you’ve had them, what, a couple of years?

She agreed.

If I’d picked this apple up whilst walking in the park, I would say from these small ridges, I pointed out the indentations, or mamelons, to give them their proper name, that whoever bit this apple was about nine or ten years old. She looked at me astonished. Plus, I added for effect, the semicircle made by your upper teeth is much smaller than ours, because you are younger and haven’t finished growing yet. Now look at ours, we’re a lot older, no ridges, too many years of serious eating, and that semicircle is larger. I sat back, I conclude your honour, that these two apples were bitten by adults. I sensed her relaxing as she bent forward to take a closer look.

So how old is the person who bit this? she pointed at my apple.

That’s a bit harder. If you look at where my lower incisors left marks, I pointed to my mouth, indicating my lower incisors, they’re worn down slightly, so could be someone in their thirties.

That is so cool!

Robyn was a godsend, joining in enthusiastically, Good job I brushed my teeth last night or you’d be telling me what I had for supper as well!

Ah, but was it good?

She pulled a face, No. Positively revolting; hospital fish.

All four of us gave a resounding ugh, including the child liaison officer who had been sitting quietly in the corner like a mouse.

Want to know more?

This time Lian gave me a definite, Yes please, and not a nod. I was progressing.

When the doctor fixed your arm, he noticed marks on your other arm and legs. Would you mind if I looked at them?

Okay.

We’ll have to work together for this. Fancy being my assistant? I was rewarded with a cheeky grin.

I can do this, she said, offering me her right arm to inspect and kicking off the bed clothes exposing slim legs.

Hang on a minute; I have to sort myself out first. I started unpacking my kit as she scrutinised every move.

A standard preliminary examination comprises of a full body examination, mouth swabs, upper and lower alginate impressions to eliminate any possibility that the bites are self-inflicted, swabs and impressions of the injuries, and photographs; all chronicled in detail. I explained I needed to take notes and as I only had one pair of hands asked if anyone minded me switching on a mini tape recorder. No one objected.

Lian was compliant throughout the examination, and, as Robyn had predicted, chatty. Watching me load an impression tray with alginate she announced, I’ve done this before you know, when Bajai, sorry Grandfather, she corrected herself, insisted I wore a sports guard.

For which sport?

Mainly riding; he teaches me how to do tricks with the horses, but he also said I had to wear it for lacrosse at school. I don’t like lacrosse much.

It sounds as though you have a very wise grandfather.

I do and he’s absolutely amazing with horses, she announced, her chest puffing out with pride.

As we progressed, she chatted about her grandparents, going into animated detail about all their horses. Still absolutely no mention of what had happened, and I was reticent to push at this stage. It was blatantly obvious something traumatic had happened; one particular lesion displayed all the tell-tale signs of a human bite.

Having swabbed her abrasions and taken three samples for traces of saliva, DNA and Micro Organisms for the serology and microbiology laboratories, I took impressions and casts of her injuries. In the middle of tidying up before the next stage, we heard a knock at the door.

Bob’s voice called from the corridor, Can I come in?

I gave Lian a questioning look. Quickly covering herself with the bedclothes, she nodded her approval.

Sorry to interrupt ladies, Lian’s mother is on my mobile. Any chance she can have a quick word with her daughter?

No problem at all, I told him before directing my attention back to Lian, we’ll wait in the hall. Give me a shout when you’ve finished Lian, or if you want me to speak to your mother.

Congregated at the nurses’ station, Bob was impatient wanting to know what I’d found.

I haven’t finished examining her yet, I told him firmly.

I realise that, but you must be able to give me something to go on, he entreated, making me capitulate.

Judging from the pattern injury, it’s definitely a human bite on the lower right thigh, and it appears to be an offensive, as opposed to a defensive, injury.

He pressurised further.

I’m sticking my neck out, but going by definition and size, I would say it was inflicted by an adult, not a child.

He wasn’t giving up in his quest to gather as much information as possible from me. Anything else?

Oh give me a break, Bob, I know you want to get on but I’ve only just started!

We were interrupted by a face peeping around the door and an arm waving Bob’s mobile phone in the air.

Dr Chrissie, can you speak to my mother please?

Gratefully escaping the interrogation, I broke into a trot down the corridor.

CHAPTER 2

Six thousand miles away Adita lent on the balustrade of the Metropole Hotel’s balcony in Jerusalem. The mass of humanity and vehicles below, shimmered in the heat haze as they scurried about their business. It was like studying an overpopulated human aquarium.

Fragments of conversation, hearty congratulations and the clinking of glasses wafted on the breeze from her husband’s farewell party. She could just make out the interior minister pontificating over the latest developments in Gaza; thankfully it was no longer their problem. This was the last day of an arduous three year posting where Richard, as British Consulate General providing services in Jerusalem and the occupied territories, had certainly had his hands full. Tomorrow they were returning home to England and a much anticipated reunion with Lian, their daughter. That had been an agonizing decision sending her away to boarding school. Realistically, there had been no viable alternative, the political situation had deteriorated and Lian’s safety was paramount. Going by the numerous video calls she’d coped extraordinarily well, with the combined help of Richard’s older sister Margo, her legal guardian, and Adita’s parents, Hari and Ghale.

Taking a last look at the city or escaping? Richard asked coming to her side.

A bit of both. ‘Call me Ezra,’ Dr Melamed, can be a tad overbearing at times.

He means well, though he is rather besotted with you. Not that I blame him, he added hastily.

Adita smiled at her husband, inwardly counting her blessings.

Come on, old girl, only a few more hours. Placing an arm around her waist, he whispered into her ear, Can’t say I’m sorry to be leaving.

Nor me, she murmured, Even though we’ve made some good friends here.

Walking across the terrace towards the function and their final duty, Richard’s mobile rang. Despite the hot breeze blowing in from the desert Adita shivered, as she watched her husband’s face crease with concern.

What’s happened, Margo?

Only able to hear Richard’s side of the conversation, concern coursed through her veins as she strained to hear her sister-in-law. Richard’s cheek muscles tightened; a sure sign, only discernible to her, that he was stressed. Yes, we’re due to land at Heathrow just after 8pm your time. What was the school thinking of?

Unable to hear what Margo was saying Adita’s anxiety rocketed.

Listen, Margo, I’ll see what can be found out this end and I’ll call you as soon as we know something.

Likewise. And Dickie... I know it’s easy to say, but try not to worry; we’ll get to the bottom of this. The main thing is I’ve called the hospital she seems to be in good hands and we will be there within a couple of hours, we’re doing everything we can. Give my love to Adita, won’t you.

Will do and thanks Margo. Keep in touch.

Adita’s initial concerns intensified to panic as Richard relayed that Lian had been found by the police in her night clothes nursing a broken arm.

I’m ringing the hospital now. No one will miss me; go back to the guests and I’ll find you as soon as I’ve any news.

Functioning on auto-pilot, she shot off in search of John, their private secretary. Numerous enquiries later she found him in one of the hotel lounges taking a break.

John. I need your help, it’s Lian, she’s in University College Hospital. Can you look up the number for the hospital for me and afterwards find out if there’s an earlier flight we can take to London?

The number retrieved from John’s tablet, every possible scenario raced through her mind as she waited to be connected to the correct ward. It seemed to be taking forever and every passing second produced a different scenario in her mind’s eye; each image worse than its predecessor.

Thought you might need this, John handed her a cup of tea. There’s no chance of an earlier flight, you’d never make it to the airport for today’s departure. I’ve called London; they’re looking into things and have promised to call back as soon as they have any news.

Thank you. I’m on hold with the... she broke off, hearing a voice on the other end of the line.

Hello... Mrs Boothby? This is the ward sister taking care of your daughter, how may I help?

Unable to restrain herself Adita barraged the woman with questions.

She’s fine, Mrs. Boothby, the voice placated. She was admitted early this morning suffering from a greenstick fracture of the left arm, a few minor abrasions and very cold, but fortunately no signs of hypothermia. Her arm’s been set in a sling, we’ve warmed her up and she’s comfortable, recovering really well.

Can I speak to her?

She’s currently being seen by a forensic specialist, I’ll see what I can do as soon as they’ve finished.

The statement hit like an electric shock instantly nullifying all previous reassurances; her chest tightened with dread. A forensic specialist! What on earth does she need that for?

It’s nothing to worry about, the doctor thought one of the marks looked a little, well, unusual. A precautionary measure, we have to be rigorous with minors, particularly when they are admitted under unorthodox circumstances. It’s purely routine.

Fighting for self-control, Adita steadied her words. Have you any idea what’s happened?

None at all. She said she had a bit of an accident and won’t elaborate any further. DCI Jenner is in charge, he’s still here at the hospital. I’ll give you his number. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you, and he might be able to give you more information. All I can tell you is her medical condition and she’s well on the road to recovery.

Adita scribbled down the information reiterating, to no avail, her request to speak to Lian.

Once off the phone, she immediately keyed in the number, it was answered on the second ring.

Detective Chief Inspector Jenner? This is Adita Boothby, Lian’s mother. Can you please tell me what’s going on?

I wish I could Mrs Boothby. Lian’s refusing to tell anyone how or why she came to be in St. James’s Park in the early hours of the morning. Though in every other respect she’s chatty. Told us you and your husband were in Jerusalem, due home tomorrow. Gave us full contact details for an aunt, and grandparents, both in Hampshire. But when asked what’s happened, it’s always the same reply, ‘she had a bit of an accident and that it’s nothing to worry about.’ We’ve deduced she was probably heading for Waterloo Station when the patrol car picked her up, trying to catch a train to Basingstoke.

That’s the nearest mainline station to both her aunt’s and my parents’ homes; they’re all driving to the hospital now.

Good, maybe she’ll open up to them. Two of my officers are at Lansdowne School as we speak. In the meantime Lian’s with a forensic expert who is looking at her bruises. I can assure you, Mrs. Boothby, we’re doing everything possible to get to the bottom of this.

I’m grateful for that, but what bruises and why does a forensic expert need to examine her? Has she been harmed by someone?

Bob Jenner chose his words carefully. Chrissie, had told him informally and if he was honest, under duress, that she thought the child had been bitten by an adult to give him a head start. Until she examined the evidence in detail that conversation was for his ears only, to inform the mother at this stage would be negligent. The duty doctor noticed some minor, but unusual looking bruising and suggested an expert be called in. It is a belt and braces measure. He hedged, It could simply be fallout at school, or a case of bullying, but until we know we have to explore every avenue.

We’ve never had the slightest inkling of any bullying. May I speak to her please?

I’ll see what I can do. Can you bear with me a moment?

Of course.

She could hear footsteps, mingled with amplified breathing and background hospital noises. Abruptly everything became muffled, as though a hand had been placed over the phone.

Finally, Hello... Mummy?

Adita’s relief was palpable, Darling, are you alright? What’s happened?

I knew you’d ring, I’m fine. Honestly. Her initial excitement turned to concern, You’re still coming home aren’t you?

Of course we are, but unfortunately we can’t get to the airport in time for this evening’s flight. It’s still tomorrow I’m afraid. Aunt Margo’s just called. She, Babu and Bajai are on their way to you right now, Contrary to the emotions charging through her Adita did her best to sound reassuring. This time tomorrow we’ll be in the air on our way home to you.

I can’t wait, I’ve been counting the days.

So have we. Now tell me what’s happened? The policeman wondered if you’d been bullied at school. Despite her best efforts to maintain self-control the questions cascaded out, Is your arm very painful, and what’s this I hear about bruises?

It was a bit sore until they put the sling on, but now it’s not bad at all, and I’ve only got a couple of tiny bruises; I’ve had far worse from the horses. The lady who’s looking at them is nice though. She said you might want to talk to her, her name’s Chrissie. Shall I get her?

In a minute. First tell me what happened.

Adita heard the hesitation in her voice, I’m fine, honestly... I’ll tell you when I see you. Promise. Just a slight accident at Oaklands.

Immediately recognising Lian’s stoic mode and the tone she always adopted when not wanting to talk about something, Adita knew a different tack was required. We need to know now darling, it’s really important. If you can’t tell me over the phone then maybe talk to Chrissie. You said you liked her. Can you speak to her?

S’pose so.

That would be grand, no one’s going to be cross.

What about Mrs Perry though? Lian whispered down the phone. I’m already in big trouble with Icy Isla.

Don’t worry about them. Anyway, why are you in trouble with that wretched woman? I thought after all the parents complained things had improved.

Oh, the usual, you know. Being cheeky, burning the milk when I made the drinks; she actually gated me for that. She was incredulous. You wouldn’t believe it; the cow stopped me going to the ballet. Remember, you signed for me to go?

I remember.

Everyone else went and she made me stay behind at Oaklands, all by myself. But I’ll tell you tomorrow, she said dismissively.

How did you break your arm if you were alone, gated in Oaklands?

Oh that, she muttered. Jumped out of a window and misjudged the leap. They didn’t catch me though, she sounded almost proud.

Adita was convinced she’d misheard, Did I hear you right? You jumped out of a window, and who didn’t catch you?

The disgust in Lian’s tone was audible, Icy Isla and her friend.

Unable to comprehend what she was hearing, Let me get this straight. You jumped out of a window to get away from the housemistress and some friend of hers, and broke your arm?

That’s about it, Lian admitted sheepishly.

What the hell was going on? The line went silent. Lian! she shouted. What were they doing to you?

I told you Mummy, Isla gated me, so I couldn’t go to the ballet.

Yes, but that doesn’t explain why you leapt out of a window. What else was going on?

Lian heaved a resigned sigh and capitulated, I was in the dormitory room, by myself; chanting actually.

Go on.

The next thing I knew Isla yelled for me, she mumbled and started sniffing, So I went straight to her sitting room where she gave me a bollocking for being noisy.

Speak up, darling, I can hardly hear you.

Lian’s words tumbled down the line. Then she grabbed me, I fought back and got free. But Mummy, they were standing near the door and the only way out the room was through the French doors. I charged out on to the balcony grabbed a branch of the old oak tree that grows next to the house and started climbing down. Then it all went wrong. They were going ballistic, shouting and yelling and I panicked, jumped far too soon and landed on my arm. But I managed to run for it before they got downstairs.

Oh my God! Then what did you do?

I ran and ran, and then I remembered some of the seniors go to the old crypt for a fag and have never ever been caught. So I went there and waited until I thought it was safe.

Adita, envisaged the nightmare her daughter must have gone through. Darling, you must have been absolutely terrified. You have really got to tell Chrissie, or Chief Inspector Jenner, now. By all means wait until Babu and Bajai arrive and then tell them, but it really cannot be left until we get home tomorrow evening.

Okay Mummy, I promise I’ll tell Chrissie, she’s nice. Do you think you could talk to her first?

Yes of course, in a minute darling.

Listen I’d better go, she’s waiting for me and I’m meant to be helping her. Can’t wait to see you and Daddy tomorrow. Love you both, lots and lots.

Love you lots and lots too, we’ll be with you as soon as we can. Now listen please… Realising she was talking to herself, Don’t go! she shouted as Lian’s voice rang out in the distance calling for Dr Chrissie to come to the phone.

Adita was still trying to get her daughter back when I came on the line. Apologising for shouting in my ear she repeated to me what her daughter had said.

That’s really helpful Mrs Boothby.

Adita’s reply crackled in a delayed action over the air waves, She promised to tell me more when I arrive. I think she’s frightened of getting in to trouble at school or something; she knows she certainly won’t from us. I’ve told her to speak you. Is there any chance you can try and find out more and let me know? She really seems to like you.

I’ll do my very best Mrs Boothby. But would you mind repeating what you’ve just told me to Chief Inspector Jenner?

Though still in turmoil and having spoken to Chief Inspector Jenner as requested, Adita returned to the party thankful she’d spoken with Lian. The policeman appeared to be doing all he could, and the forensic woman had come across as straight forward and practical, not uttering a single platitude so commonly doled out by members of the medical profession. She had said exactly how it was, something Adita was exceedingly grateful for.

Richard was deep in conversation with Dr Melamed, who on spotting Adita enter the room, discreetly excused himself. Barely disguising his distress, Richard voiced his opinion, I’ve just been telling Ezra, the thing I don’t understand is, how on earth could the school not have reported her missing? Such behaviour is negligent, utterly irresponsible and quite beyond me. I know Lian’s high spirited, but she’s neither irresponsible nor reckless; something must have terrified her. The sooner we get home the better.

I know darling. Come and sit down and I’ll tell you everything I’ve found out.

CHAPTER 3

My heart went out to Mrs Boothby, the woman was going through hell. I rejoined Lian, who was chatting to Robyn, and set up my tripod for the photographs. Your mum sounds great. I bet you’re excited about seeing her tomorrow.

I can’t wait, and it’ll be even better if I can go home. Do you think I’ll be able to? I’m not ill you know.

I don’t know Lian, you’ll have to ask the doctor. But I’m sure they won’t keep you here any longer than they have to. What do you think, Robyn?

I’m sure you’ll be going home fairly soon, I’ll ask the doctor next time I see him.

Thank you.

Where’s home? I asked.

Phoenix Green at the stables; we’ve just finished converting one of the barns into a house, so we can have our own home in England next to my grandparents place. It’s going to be fantastic, she enthused. I’m trying to decide what wallpaper to have in my bedroom and we’ve got simply masses of shopping to do. Poor Daddy’s going to be carrying even more bags now I’ve done my arm in. He won’t mind, though, she giggled, he makes donkey noises when Mum and I hand him our carrier bags.

I’m sure he’ll cope, I told her. Your mother told me how you broke your arm.

Thought she might; had to really, didn’t she? And she’d never tell anyone a big secret, or anything like that.

Her maturity was impressive, I’m sure she wouldn’t. Now, the next thing we have to do is take quite a few photographs. Are you ready?

Throwing her good arm behind her head, she lifted her hair up giving a film star pout. Not those sorts of pictures, you daft ha’p’orth! Ones of the marks on your arm and leg, and this ruler has to be in the shot as well. All very glamorous, I held up an ABFO scale, which is a plastic L shaped ruler, used for dimensional referencing in forensic photography.

She looked at me with a distinct twinkle in her eye, Oh. I’m not going in Vogue then?

Maybe next month. Jump back on the bed; it’ll be easier than in a chair.

Unfortunately, photographing marks on the skin isn’t a straightforward click of the camera because it is an elastic living organ. To obtain a true representation of the wound, the body has to be in much the same posture as it was when the wound was inflicted to minimise distortion. I was going to need all of Lian’s cooperation and more.

She settled herself on top of the bed while I focused the camera on her right arm. So come on, how did you get these?

Leaning forward she covered my ear with her left hand and whispered. I’ll tell you cause Mummy said I must. Leaning back she gave a determined look and flicked her head in the direction of the community liaison officer. But not her. She stated with vehemence.

What about Robin?

She’s alright, she’s your friend. She pointed at the unfortunate officer. Definitely, absolutely, positively not her though.

Robin calmly swung in to action ushering the unfortunate officer from the room on a pretext. Returning within seconds, Sorted. she informed Lian, high fiving her in the process.

Lian shuddered and leant forward. She’s creepy! Like Icy Isla, and… she’s got red hair just like her.

Who is Icy Isla?

Our housemistress, Mrs Isla Wikinson. We all loathe her.

Why, what does she do? Robyn coaxed as I organised myself.

One minute she pretends to be your friend and then when you think, maybe she’s okay really, she’ll do something really nasty.

I gave Robyn a look, who responded with an almost indiscernible nod for me to go ahead.

"Like what?