Denton CID

Part 2

"Tired, you?"

"Mullet was at county all afternoon," Louis sniffed, "so just grand thanks."

Niall chuckled, "I see. So who's the newbie then?" he nodded towards Harry. There was a sharkish glint of glee in his eye that forewarned Louis he was in for a bit of ribbing later. Joy.

Louis gestured between the two as nonchalantly as he could. He wasn't going to give his friend any free ammo. "This is my temporary new assistant, DI Harry Styles, on loan from Lexington. Harry, this is Dr Niall Horan, one of Denton's two police surgeons."

Niall whistled as they shook hands, "A DI? Wow. What the hell did you do wrong to get shipped over to this dump?"

Harry laughed quietly as he slipped his hand back into his pocket for warmth, "Nothing, honest. We were over-staffed, Denton was under-staffed; it seemed like a good chance to enact a bit of effective police budgeting by temporarily redistributing me over here."

"Ahh, the good old 'let's share resources rather than spend money creating resources' approach," said Niall. "Well, welcome to Denton anyway and good luck working with this one. Mullet tends to give him the worst cases out of spite. Talking of which..." Niall's expression tightened as his eyes darted downwards and by god Louis could sympathise. He had yet to do more than take a glance, wanting to get the 'pleasantries' over with first so he could then focus completely on the job – not just out of professionalism but also out of respect for the life lost.

"What have we got then," he asked softly.

Niall crouched and slipped the sheet back to unveil the top of the body. Louis steeled himself before lowering his gaze to take in the kid's pale and bruised face. Good god, he whimpered internally, the kid could barely be older than his youngest siblings...

"Pre-teen male," Niall sighed, "brown hair, hazel eyes, one distinguishing mark here," he pointed to an inch-long scar under the child's chin. "I estimate he's around the age of ten – although it's hard to tell without an autopsy these days. He could simply be small for his age." Pulling out a pen he gestured to various areas of the face. "I'm no pathologist of course but if you look carefully at the scratches here and here there is a definite pattern... like that of a chain link fence? I would guess at some point recently he was pressed against one. He was also..." the doctor swallowed thickly and looked away, "raped."

Harry visibly tensed and Louis felt the bottom of his stomach fall out, "Raped?" He repeated, barely louder than a whisper.

Niall nodded grimly, "No mistaking it... and I'm guessing it was before death." He did not have to say more. Louis closed his eyes against the immediate prickle of tears. Shit.

"How long do you think he's been dead?" asked Harry, a small quiver in his voice belying his inner emotions.

Niall pursed his lips, "Obviously I can't be precise, I'm not a pathologist, but considering there are only traces of rigor mortis in the eyelids and the fact the boy's still in school uniform... I'd say... maximum of three hours?"

"Cause of death?" Louis croaked.

"Well," Niall tugged the sheet back over the boy's face, "there're no obvious injuries or markings on the body so... given how bloodshot the eyes were I would say he was most likely smothered. A pathologist will be able to confirm that."

"Raped and suffocated to death?" Harry reiterated; there was a hard set to his jaw now; anger. Louis figured he was thinking along the same lines – that the death was probably accidental, caused by the rapist trying to keep the kid quiet. What an absolute bastard.