The Reviver by Seth Patrick Read Free Book Online Page A

East office that dealt with cases in DC, but they were even more stretched than the Richmond office. They often relied on Richmond taking on the harder cases – after all, as the first FRS office to have been formed, Richmond had attracted the best, and as a result had quite a portfolio of skilled revivers.
    Nikki Wood, the girl’s name. Minor head trauma. ‘Shit. She was unlucky to die from this. So why not straightforward?’
    ‘There’s some suspicion about the father.’
    Jonah drew in a breath.
    ‘Bob Crenner’s the detective on it,’ Never said. ‘Good cop, I’ve worked with him before. The begging email’s from him. If we can’t send anyone immediately, North East will do it in-house the day after tomorrow.’
    The unpredictable ebb and flow of revival work sometimes meant that on-site revivals were impossible to staff; all the FRS offices had revival suites, rooms where revivals could be done in-house in more controlled surroundings, with cold rooms to keep the body in good condition and observation areas for interested parties. It all took more time, of course, and the revival chances took a hit, but often there was no other option.
    ‘And Sam’s sending Jason?’
    ‘Sam’s not in until the afternoon,’ said Never. ‘So it’s Hugo’s call and he’s not in yet either. I’m sure he’ll send Jason. The only … Ah.’ He stopped, recognizing Jonah’s tone. ‘The only options are Jason and you. And he won’t send you.’
    Jonah glanced around the office, a gentle bustle of morning coffee and gossip. His voice was low. Conspiratorial. ‘Shepperton in yet?’
    ‘No.’ Never frowned. ‘But any minute.’ A brief pause, and the light dawned in Never’s eyes. ‘Uh uh,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No way.’
    Jonah smiled. ‘With Sam and Hugo out of the office, the decision’s left with the senior reviver and senior technician, right? Me and you.’
    ‘I’ve been told to keep you away from anything tricky.’
    ‘It’s not severe trauma. Nothing to suggest it’ll be a difficult revival.’
    ‘Apart from the fact that it’s a nine-year-old girl? ’
    ‘We’re talking about a family who’ve lost a child, a child who may have been killed by her father. A father under suspicion who may be innocent. You want to send Shepperton into that?’
    While Never didn’t have quite as strong an opinion as Jonah about their colleague, he had been the technician for Shepperton many times. He knew that subtlety and compassion were not the reviver’s strong points. The thought of Shepperton handling this case made him uneasy.
    Torn, he took a swig of coffee and looked Jonah in the eye. ‘Fuck it,’ he said. ‘You win.’
    *   *   *
    They took one of the six FRS cars, Never driving. Two hours later, they arrived at the scene, a cosy street of semi-detached homes, the road outside swamped by vehicles and a large white forensic tent. They’d taken an angry call from Hugo Adler by then, but Jonah had talked him round.
    It was ten-forty in the morning and the heat was already oppressive, the sunlight harsh.
    A crowd of onlookers was being held at bay three houses back on both sides by metal barriers and tape, guarded by a handful of young uniformed cops.
    Jonah observed the people watching with fear and intrigue as paper-suited investigators searched the front garden, and one by one, turning to see the dark green car with ‘FRS’ in discreet white lettering on the doors. A ripple of interest spread through the crowd, and more and more eyes were directed his way. They know, thought Jonah. They know what I am.
    He met some of those eyes, and hated the look they gave him now, awe and fear combined. That look had changed little through the years. Public perception of forensic revivers had always been confused – intrigue and aversion battling it out with pragmatism – but up close the deep unease returned. He often thought it had been almost miraculous, how widely revival had been accepted,