see? It’s like the fabric is twisted wrong. I don’t think she dressed herself.’
‘Are you thinking she was sexually assaulted?’
‘I don’t know about that, but I can see that she was dressed by someone else, probably after she died. Everything is just sitting wrong.’
He was right, it did look awkward in places. Looking at Erica’s skirt, Imogen could see that it was a back zip that had been done up on the side. She had probably been naked when she died.
‘What about the pose?’ Imogen asked.
‘No idea. Maybe he was trying to respect her?’
‘You’re going with “he”?’
‘She’s not the slimmest of women; you’d need a fair bit of strength to dress her once she was dead. I think “he” is a safe bet at the moment. Unless we learn anything else from forensics.’
Imogen looked at Erica. She would put her weight at roughly seventy kilograms, around an average size twelve. She was slim-waisted and attractive, obviously very active and naturally quite muscular in the legs. It would be difficult for a woman to be able to handle that kind of weight without assistance. Until forensics showed otherwise, they would work on the assumption that it was a male. Neither of them wanted to say aloud that in most cases, the assumption was usually that it was a male they were after.
‘Does it match any other cases we’ve had?’ Imogen asked.
‘Not to my knowledge, I’ll have a look when we get back to the station.’
‘You mean you’ll get Gary to check.’
‘What about her phone?’ Adrian asked one of the crime scene technicians, but she shook her head.
‘No phone?’ Imogen asked.
‘We haven’t found one,’ the technician said.
‘Call us if you do,’ Adrian said.
‘There are no signs of a break-in either. We think whoever did this was known to this woman,’ the technician offered.
Imogen put her hands on her hips and looked around the room some more. It was a small space and they were on the verge of being in the way, so she signalled to Adrian who stepped out of the room first. She followed him, nodding to the technicians, and they headed down the corridor, peering into the bathroom. Another technician was in there taking swabs and samples. They would have to come back when it had been properly processed; there simply wasn’t enough room for everyone. This initial assessment would have to do for now.
DCI Mira Kapoor was standing in the lounge when they got downstairs. She had a suitably sombre expression on her face. She always behaved the way she was supposed to behave, said what she was supposed to say when in public. At the same time, she was quite rebellious, at least on the sly, in her office where it mattered. She listened when she needed to listen and she never took any action that wasn’t carefully considered. Imogen was quite taken with her, although she still reserved some judgement; she had been burned by her superiors before.
‘Poor girl. I want you two to speak to the neighbours and work colleagues, see if you can get a picture of who she was. Later on, you can speak to the sister, she was pretty inconsolable by all accounts and the hospital have admitted her. She’s sleeping now apparently.’
‘OK, Ma’am,’ Imogen said.
As they went to leave, the DCI spoke again.
‘Grey, can I have a private word?’
Imogen nodded to Adrian who carried on outside.
The DCI gestured to Imogen to come closer and jerked her head at Adrian’s fast retreating back.
‘How is he doing?’
‘OK, quiet. He’s OK though.’
‘Do you know if he’s been to see the bereavement counsellor?’
‘He hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m going to guess not.’
‘See if you can get him to, please. Last thing I need is him cracking up.’
Imogen nodded. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Have you given any more thought to the DI exam, Grey?’
‘I don’t know if it’s the right time.’
She should want it, shouldn’t she? Didn’t everyone want to advance their career? The thing was that she was happy with how things were at the moment, or maybe she was scared of change; it was hard to know which. Moving up the ladder had always been the plan, but she just didn’t feel ready. What was holding her back? Was it Adrian? He would be happy for her and she would be happy for him if the roles were reversed, but at the same time, the dynamic was working for her. Having a stable and dependable friend was important to her right now; she liked being on the same level. Besides, after what Adrian had been through recently, losing his girlfriend, she didn’t want to leave him right now. She had to hope this wouldn’t be her only opportunity.
‘Well, there’s an opening and, as I’ve said before, I think you should go for it.’
‘I’ll think about it. Thank you.’ The DCI nodded, and Imogen left her in the house, stepping outside to see Adrian gazing out into nothing again. She got into the car and he followed, that same haunted look on his face. She wanted to hold his hand and tell him that it would be OK, but that wasn’t how they did things. Instead she would continue to be herself, and hoped that would be enough to keep him afloat.
Connor leant his head against the passenger window as his father drove to their new home. He looked down at the gutter as they moved through the streets, most of the roads covered with russet-coloured leaves. Even the trees here were different to the ones back home. He didn’t want to look up at the houses; at least kerbs and leaves couldn’t be that different on this side of the world, could they? There was a sense of unease in him; he figured it came from being on the other side of the car, on the other side of the road, on the other side of the planet.
The smooth sounds of Nina Simone’s smoky voice filled the space around them. At least his father, Jacob, wasn’t trying to hold a conversation with him anymore. Connor felt the car grind to a stop and the air fell silent as his father turned the engine off. He took a deep breath and looked up at their new home grudgingly. They were parked in front of a three-storey red-brick house, with a balcony running across the front and a garage to the side. It occurred to Connor that there wasn’t a chance in hell their car would fit in that tiny space even though it was smaller than their car back home.
Without speaking to his father, he got out of the car and walked around to the boot to grab the suitcases. He may as well get on with it. No turning back now. The door to the left of their house opened and a girl came trudging out, head hung low, carrying a black sack; she put it in the wheelie bin and disappeared back inside without looking up or saying a word. Connor’s father was still getting to his feet. He pulled himself up and surveyed the area, leaning on his cane with
