you shortly, Don,’ Carol said, ending the call. She drained her glass of wine and said, ‘Seems we’ve got a body.’ She got to her feet. ‘I didn’t exactly mean the evening to end like this.’
Tony picked up the dirty plates. ‘Well, it’s probably best to stick to what we know we’re good at.’
Temple Fields’ tawdry glitter was blurred by the slant of autumn rain. The car tyres hissed on the block paving of the pedestrianized zone at the heart of the area. The driver turned into a narrow side street. Redbrick and seedy, it harboured shop fronts with little allure and small entrepreneurial businesses with bedsits on the floors above. Halfway down, access was blocked by a pair of parked police cars. Vague figures hurried beyond the cars, heads down against the weather. As the car pulled up, Carol lowered her head, took a deep breath and climbed out.
Approaching the squad cars, Carol saw that the entrance to a smaller ginnel was closed off by crime-scene tape. Her stomach lurched in anticipation of what she was about to be confronted with. Please God, let it not be sexual. She ducked under the tape, giving her name and rank to the officer logging access to the scene, and spotted Paula standing at a grubby door leading to a stairwell. Seeing Carol, she broke off her conversation with a uniformed officer and turned to her.
‘It’s upstairs, chief. Not a pretty sight.’
‘Thanks, Paula.’ Carol paused on the threshold, snapping a pair of latex gloves over her hands. ‘Who found the body?’
‘One of the street girls. Dee. She and the dead girl used to share the room. Somewhere to take punters.’
‘Was Dee with a punter, then?’
Paula gave a grim little smile. ‘According to Dee, as soon as he realized there was something wrong, he was out of there like a rat off a sinking ship.’
‘Where’s Dee now?’
‘On her way back to the nick to make a statement. With Sam.’
Carol nodded in satisfaction. ‘Thanks, Paula.’ She edged past a fingerprint technician lifting prints from the narrow banister and headed up. At the top of the steep, uncarpeted stairs, an open door cast an oblong of pale light on to the landing. The air was thick with the coppery smell of blood and the darker, deeper stink of human excrement. Though she’d been steeling herself against it, Carol felt herself slide into flashback and almost lost her footing. But the sight of the SOCOs coolly going about their business anchored her back in the present, banishing the kaleidoscope of images that threatened to overwhelm her. Further up and further in .
As she reached the doorway, Carol was conscious of Merrick and Kevin turning to look at her. At first, she concentrated on the external details, working up gradually to deal with what lay at the heart of the room. It was a spartan space, shoddy and cheaply decorated with old stained woodchip emulsioned in what had once been magnolia. A pine bedstead, a couple of armchairs that looked like they were rescued from the tip, a sink, a card table and not much else. Nothing to distract her from the body on the bed.
The woman was tied down, her legs and arms spread in a hideous parody of ecstasy. Her blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to read panic and pain there. Her short bleached blonde hair was plastered to her head; the sweat of fear had soaked it and time had dried it into a stiff helmet. She was still dressed, her skirt a blood-soaked ruck around her hips. A sea of gore engulfed her lower body and soaked the thin, sagging mattress. Carol cleared her throat and moved closer. That’s a hell of a lot of blood,’ she said.
‘According to the police surgeon, she pretty much bled out,’ Merrick said. ‘He reckons it took her a while to die.’
Carol struggled with the emotions tormenting her and tried to remember how to do her job. ‘He’s been and gone already?’
‘Yeah, so happened he was at a dinner at the Queensbury. We’d hardly got here ourselves.’
‘So,
Tony picked up the dirty plates. ‘Well, it’s probably best to stick to what we know we’re good at.’
Temple Fields’ tawdry glitter was blurred by the slant of autumn rain. The car tyres hissed on the block paving of the pedestrianized zone at the heart of the area. The driver turned into a narrow side street. Redbrick and seedy, it harboured shop fronts with little allure and small entrepreneurial businesses with bedsits on the floors above. Halfway down, access was blocked by a pair of parked police cars. Vague figures hurried beyond the cars, heads down against the weather. As the car pulled up, Carol lowered her head, took a deep breath and climbed out.
Approaching the squad cars, Carol saw that the entrance to a smaller ginnel was closed off by crime-scene tape. Her stomach lurched in anticipation of what she was about to be confronted with. Please God, let it not be sexual. She ducked under the tape, giving her name and rank to the officer logging access to the scene, and spotted Paula standing at a grubby door leading to a stairwell. Seeing Carol, she broke off her conversation with a uniformed officer and turned to her.
‘It’s upstairs, chief. Not a pretty sight.’
‘Thanks, Paula.’ Carol paused on the threshold, snapping a pair of latex gloves over her hands. ‘Who found the body?’
‘One of the street girls. Dee. She and the dead girl used to share the room. Somewhere to take punters.’
‘Was Dee with a punter, then?’
Paula gave a grim little smile. ‘According to Dee, as soon as he realized there was something wrong, he was out of there like a rat off a sinking ship.’
‘Where’s Dee now?’
‘On her way back to the nick to make a statement. With Sam.’
Carol nodded in satisfaction. ‘Thanks, Paula.’ She edged past a fingerprint technician lifting prints from the narrow banister and headed up. At the top of the steep, uncarpeted stairs, an open door cast an oblong of pale light on to the landing. The air was thick with the coppery smell of blood and the darker, deeper stink of human excrement. Though she’d been steeling herself against it, Carol felt herself slide into flashback and almost lost her footing. But the sight of the SOCOs coolly going about their business anchored her back in the present, banishing the kaleidoscope of images that threatened to overwhelm her. Further up and further in .
As she reached the doorway, Carol was conscious of Merrick and Kevin turning to look at her. At first, she concentrated on the external details, working up gradually to deal with what lay at the heart of the room. It was a spartan space, shoddy and cheaply decorated with old stained woodchip emulsioned in what had once been magnolia. A pine bedstead, a couple of armchairs that looked like they were rescued from the tip, a sink, a card table and not much else. Nothing to distract her from the body on the bed.
The woman was tied down, her legs and arms spread in a hideous parody of ecstasy. Her blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to read panic and pain there. Her short bleached blonde hair was plastered to her head; the sweat of fear had soaked it and time had dried it into a stiff helmet. She was still dressed, her skirt a blood-soaked ruck around her hips. A sea of gore engulfed her lower body and soaked the thin, sagging mattress. Carol cleared her throat and moved closer. That’s a hell of a lot of blood,’ she said.
‘According to the police surgeon, she pretty much bled out,’ Merrick said. ‘He reckons it took her a while to die.’
Carol struggled with the emotions tormenting her and tried to remember how to do her job. ‘He’s been and gone already?’
‘Yeah, so happened he was at a dinner at the Queensbury. We’d hardly got here ourselves.’
‘So,
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