Doors Without Numbers by C.D. Neill Read Free Book Online Page B

nothing so instead he returned to the original report. The door to Callum’s apartment had been left ajar, which was certainly unusual but perhaps only attributed to Callum’s certainty that he wouldn’t have visitors. No other fingerprints other than the deceased, the delivery man Kelsey and paramedics had been found in the apartment. This corresponded to the neighbour’s accounts that Callum had lived as a recluse. Forensic graphology had compared samples of Mark Callum’s writing with the suicide note found tucked into his sock and confirmed he had written the note with his own hand. Hammond looked at the photograph of the note ; “I have to kill myself before someone else does it for me .” The words had been written in blue biro, the writing was small but done with a steady hand. Hammond sipped his coffee that was now cold. Although the note suggested Mark Callum had been threatened in some way, he could understand why the verdict of suicide had been reached. There was no other evidence to suggest anything sinister in the cause of Callum’s death, only the idea that he had been persuaded to take his own life. That would hint toward murder but it could also be a paranoid interpretation. In his experience, no crime was committed without leaving a trace of guilt. If someone had forced Callum to kill himself, surely they would watch him do it or at least stay close to ensure Callum carried out their instructions. And, if they did, there would be some evidence of their presence at the scene. There would be something, however small, that could correlate the death with someone else’s involvement. Hammond considered for a moment that if anyone was forced to take their own life against their will, there would instinctively be rages within them, fighting against the other’s will. Surely Callum would have shouted out, done something to point guilt at the assailant, even made a mark on his body to show that his death had been forced. But there was nothing on Callum’s body, nothing in his flat to suggest he had had unwanted interaction with anyone else.
    Detectives had attempted to substantiate the note’s contents by investigating possibilities of someone else being at the flat at the time of his death, they had interviewed neighbours asking if they had ever seen Callum with anyone within the apartment blocks or elsewhere or if anyone had been seen exiting Callum’s apartment. No-one had. Hammond eventually admitted defeat with a sigh. In this case, he could find nothing to authenticate Harris’s suspicion.
    Hammond picked up his empty cup and returned the file to the officer at a nearby desk. At his request, a copy of a photograph of Mark Callum was produced. It was unfortunate that the only photographs they had of Callum were taken post-mortem but it could help with identification later if necessary. The officer smiled at Hammond, and this polite response to his presence encouraged Hammond to speak aloud his curiosity. “Who investigated the suicide of Mark Callum?”
    The officer pointed to the file, just returned to him. “Their names are in the report Sir.”
    “Yes, I know, but I meant are they here? I wouldn’t recognise them.”
    He was directed to a young woman seated at a desk, tentatively tapping at a computer keyboard as if she were intimidated by the technology. She looked at him as he approached and smiled shyly. He introduced himself. “I understand you were part of the investigative team that looked into a suicide a few months ago?”
    “I didn’t investigate as such; my partner and I were first on the scene.”
    She identified herself as WPC Manvell. Hammond was familiar with her name as he had read her report only an hour earlier, but he proceeded with his questions regardless.
    “I’ve seen the photographs and read the reports but I am curious what your personal reaction was when you first arrived.” Hammond was aware his question was unorthodox but he was sensitive to his ex-wife’s