Free BURIED CRIMES: a gripping detective thriller full of twists and turns by MICHAEL HAMBLING Page B

eyes at Theresa. ‘He’s always like this when the telly’s on. It’s like talking to a robot.’
    Theresa looked around the room. It was the first time she’d been able to do so in the absence of one or other of the Freeman parents. Family photos were displayed prominently on several surfaces, along with a few ornaments. They all looked happy enough in the photos. They had always appeared to be a close-knit family when she’d talked to them, but was that just a careful deception? Had Jill, the mother, always been slightly distant? Even if that was the case, was it relevant to the reason why she, Theresa, was here? She would mention her concerns to her bosses, but she couldn’t see how her observations could affect the case.
    Ten minutes later she heard the front door open, and Jill’s head appeared in the lounge doorway. She put her hand to her mouth when she saw Theresa sitting with the children.
    ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘You’re much earlier than usual.’
    ‘Don’t worry, Jill. I’ve only been here a short while.’ Theresa gave the mother a reassuring smile. ‘They were safe. Karen is very sensible and knew what she had to do. You weren’t being negligent, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
    ‘Even so, it must look bad.’
    ‘Compared to some of the things I’ve seen on my home visits? You have no idea. I said don’t worry, and I meant it.’
    ‘I only popped out to the shops for a few minutes.’
    ‘Okay. Karen’s looked after me, and even offered me scones and jam. You’ve been busy in the kitchen then?’
    ‘Yes. I took most of the afternoon off so that I could be here for when they came home from school. They usually go to friends’ houses for an hour or so, but I wasn’t sure that would be for the best at the moment. It’ll only be for this week, though.’
    She was calm again, Theresa noticed. She tried to remember what Jill did. It was something managerial, she was sure. That would explain how she regained her composure so quickly. What had she been doing when she went out? There were no shops anywhere near the street where Theresa had spotted her, and Karen had told her that her mother was out giving someone an important message. Why the change of story? Theresa was intrigued, but said nothing. It was probably not relevant, anyway. As Jill went to make a pot of tea, two pairs of eyes followed her. Both held doubt and suspicion.

Chapter 9: Six Avenues
    Late Wednesday afternoon
     
    Sophie Allen and Barry Marsh stood in Dorchester Hospital’s Pathology laboratory looking down on two white examination benches. On the sterile surface of each bench a set of small skeletal remains were arranged. During the two years they had been working together, they had become used to visiting Benny Goodall on his home territory. They had seen numerous bodies in various states of decay spread out before them, but this was different. Two children. Each skeleton was complete, each a perfect example of a young human’s bone structure.
    ‘Well, Benny, is there anything more you can tell us, now you’ve had the scans done?’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m still not certain. There are no definite marks, no healed fractures or lesions. No obviously suspicious scar marks that would indicate physical violence, but there are a few shadowy areas that I can’t quite make out. The girl’s cheekbones. The front of a couple of ribs on the boy. The problem is we don’t know how much these might be due to natural degeneration, with them being in the ground so long. It can’t be used as direct evidence that would stand up in court, it’s all too unreliable.’
    ‘What about their ages?’ asked Marsh.
    ‘We think they were both about seven when they died. A couple of forensic bone specialists have been in to see them, and they thought so too. Interestingly, they both also thought they might have been twins. Apparently there are clues in the shape of the skull and some joints. This is only conjecture, of