Final Cut by Lin Anderson

case that could last for months or even years. The skip fire should take precedence, yet talking to McNab and then to Emma’s mother had served to make this case feel more immediate.
    The initial sieving of soil normally identified larger items, but in this case there had been none in the top level. No bottle tops, ring-pulls or the other debris you found in more urban settings. Worm action often resulted in the redistribution of items in the soil, so the depth of an object didn’t necessarily indicate when an item had been deposited.
    The finer soil had percolated through. Rhona examined the remnants that lay on the fine mesh, spreading it out with her latex-covered finger. There was a fragment of glass, so small as to be almost invisible. She extracted it and took it over to a high-powered microscope.
    Under magnification she could make out the orange-red colour and the splinter-like shape. As trace evidence went, glass could be useful. Perpetrators of crimes, particularly burglary, didn’t realise that they carried microscopic particles of the glass they’d shattered on their clothes and in their hair.
    An analysis of the chemical content and refractive index of the glass could give an indication of what it had been used for. Coloured glass tended to be more identifiable than ordinary glass owing to the mineral content that produced its colour. Glass manufacturers each had their own glass recipe, just as paint manufacturers created their own unique paint.
    Rhona’s stomach was reminding her just how long it had been since she’d eaten the borscht. She decided to finally call it a day and go home. The prospect of another microwave ready-made meal didn’t appeal, so she bought a pizza on the way.
    Tom met her at the door, winding himself round her legs, nearly upending her and the precious cardboard box. She quickly fed him, feeling guilty at how long she’d kept him waiting. She would have to buy one of those bowls with a timer, set to release food at regular intervals.
    Rhona walked through the flat, putting on lights and turning up the heating. This was the moment in her day when living alone didn’t appeal as much. She allowed herself to remember how it had been when Sean was here – the scent of cooking when she’d opened the front door, the sound of a human voice calling out to her – then recalled how often she’d welcomed the realisation that Sean had left for work and the flat was empty.
    ‘There’s no pleasing you,’ she muttered to herself. She shoved the pizza in the oven to keep it warm while she showered and changed.
    Eating alone at the kitchen table had become something she’d avoided since Sean had left. These days she preferred to eat in the sitting room with the TV for company.
    She fetched her notes for next day’s court appearance and read them while she ate. It seemed an open-and-shut case. Mary had heard a noise in her hall and gone to investigate. Her attacker, a young man high on drugs and alcohol, had beaten her to death. His defence was that he had stumbled into the wrong flat and in the darkened hall had been attacked by the flat’s occupant. He’d hit her only in self-defence. Not a bad attempt at getting off with murder. He wasn’t denying that he’d entered the flat. He was just denying that he’d attacked Mary on purpose. The problem lay in his assertion that the hall had been in darkness throughout, preventing him from realising how badly hurt the occupant was.
    When the first SOCO arrived, they’d filled in the usual checklist, which included the question Was the light on or off? The light had been on, which meant the accused was lying. Along with the details of the forensic report on the body, this meant Mary’s killer would be going away – hopefully for a very long time.
    Rhona set the notes on one side and laid her head back on the sofa, overcome with tiredness. She thought about sleeping right there on the couch, knowing once in bed she would likely end up