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Gardener stood up. “What do you think happened?”
“Crime of passion, maybe. Probably male. If he couldn’t have her, no one could?”
“Or a madman,” replied Gardener.
“Or both.”
“I’m trying not to assume here, Sean, but who would want her? Look at the place. Cheap furniture, and little of it. It’s not very clean, doesn’t particularly smell nice. There isn’t much to actually attract a man, is there? She can’t even rely on her looks.”
“Takes all sorts.”
Reilly opened the kitchen drawers. He pulled out three boxes of condoms.
“These might give us a clue,” said Reilly.
Gardener thought for a moment. “If that was her game, she can’t have earned very much, judging by what we can see.”
“Depends who was controlling her.”
“Her pimp keeping all the money?”
“Most of them do.”
“An unhappy client then?” Gardener asked.
“Have to be something serious to go this far.”
“Maybe she wasn’t as careful as she would like people to believe.”
“Someone paying extra to ride bareback, you mean?”
Gardener smiled. “Stretching things a bit, maybe. We could be getting ahead of ourselves. It may be nothing like that. We need to lock down the scene and get the team here. We need to interview the old dear outside. She’ll certainly know something.” He stared at the corpse. “Maybe she shares the house with someone else. The packets may not be hers.”
“I’m not sure. Looks to me like she lives alone, but even if she was sharing, I doubt that only one of them would be on the game.”
Reilly dropped the boxes back in the drawer and turned back to study the corpse.
Gardener drew out his mobile and was about make the call when Reilly pointed to the floor. “Have a look at this.”
The scene suit rustled as Gardener joined his partner. He followed Reilly’s pointing finger.
He saw what he thought was a piece of foil underneath her right shoulder. He couldn’t see enough to identify exactly what it was, so he dropped to his knees and tried to peer underneath. When that didn’t help, Reilly crouched down as well and very gently lifted the body in order for Gardener to grab the item.
The photograph was a girl with blonde hair: a child. She was dressed in a red jumper and white skirt. Her hair was neatly combed. She was very young, and in her right arm she clutched a doll.
Chapter Four
Gardener requested his team, a number of operational support officers, the Home Office Pathologist, and SOCO. He also asked for an undertaker.
He turned his attention back to the photograph. “Do you think it’s her daughter?” he asked Reilly.
Reilly glanced at the body. “Could be, but then you’d expect stretch marks. This wee young girl’s belly is as smooth as the day she was born.”
“There isn’t much to suggest a child lives here either. No toys.” Gardener turned and stared at the fridge. “No magnets. Kids love them.”
“No hand-drawn paintings of matchstick people.”
Gardener nodded to the corpse. “No wedding ring.”
