‘What does it say?’ Henley asked with slight irritation.
‘See for yourself,’ Ezra replied as he opened a PDF file and scrolled down to the conclusion of the report.
‘Asphyxiation,’ Henley said. ‘That’s not right. Where did you find this report?’
‘Archived files in the coroner’s office digital case system. Remember how I say nothing’s ever deleted.’
‘I know what you say, but there has to—’ Henley was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. ‘That has to be my dad with Emma. Just give me a sec.’
Henley ran through the possible scenarios that would explain the errors on the post-mortem report as she made her way to the front door. Had the author cut and pasted the wrong information into Rhimes’s post-mortem report? Had Ezra downloaded the report for a different Harry Rhimes? Neither scenario sat right with her.
‘Mummy,’ Emma squealed, holding up a small bunch of tulips. ‘We bought you flowers.’
‘I can see that.’ Henley smiled tightly as she took the flowers from Emma. ‘Thank you, sweetie.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Henley’s dad, Richard, asked as he closed the front door.
‘Nothing’s wrong, Dad.’
‘Your face doesn’t agree. You look, what’s the word? Pensive.’
‘It’s been a long day, that’s—’ Henley paused when she heard Emma’s excited screams at the discovery of Ezra in the kitchen.
‘Every day is a long day in your work. You’re not supposed to take this job home with you,’ said Richard.
‘I try not to,’ Henley said, giving her dad a hug. ‘You look good,’ she told him.
‘Hmm. My new meds seem to be fixing my head and my complexion,’ Richard joked.
Henley watched her dad. His mental journey had seen more downs than ups over the years but there was always a strong sense of relief when she saw her dad in control and in good spirits.
‘Dad, can you do me a favour and keep Emma occupied for a bit? I just need to finish my chat with Ezra.’
‘Of course. I’m sure I can sit through another episode ofPingu,’ said Richard.
‘I’m not an expert in death and stuff,’ said Ezra, once Henley had returned. ‘Maybe Dr Choi can explain what it means to you.’
‘Yeah, maybe she can,’ said Henley, putting the memory stick into her pocket, instead of the bin which had been her second thought. ‘You’ve done good, Ez.’
‘I don’t feel good.’
‘If you want to walk away from this, then that’s fine. Honestly, you’re not obligated to do anything just because I’m your boss.’
‘I know that but its Rhimes innit? How can I walk away from him? He was miserable sometimes and stubborn, but he gave me a chance when he didn’t have to. He could have said “Stephen, nah”.’ Ezra shook his head and grinned. ‘It feels odd calling the boss by his first name, but the point is Rhimes could have told Pellacia to do one when he told him to give me a job, but he didn’t.’
‘He had a lot of respect for you,’ said Henley. ‘His exact words when we were investigating you were “He’s not a devious little git, just misguided”.’
‘Sounds about right, but I hope I’m wrong here. I hope I’ve made a mistake.’
‘You and I both know that you don’t make mistakes.’
Emma’s hysterical laughter travelled through the kitchen.
‘I know that Rhimes had depression,’ said Ezra.
‘You knew about that?’ Henley was surprised. Rhimes had never been one to talk openly about his feelings and it pleased her that he’d trusted and confided in Ezra.
‘Yeah. He took me to lunch one day and told me. I used to go out for walks with him when he felt like—’
