So you don't know who she is?' said Marsh.

Oh, we do. Her name is Susie Pater. But that comes from her neighbours. There isn't anything here with her name on it. Bob and I are mystified.'

Has her body been taken away yet?' asked Sophie.

No. It's ready to go, but once I heard that you were on your way, I delayed things. She's still in the position she was found in.'

Thanks, Kevin. Can we see it now?'

McGreedie led the way to the top floor and opened a door on the left side of the stairway. There were three doors off a small entrance hall, and Kevin took them into the room on the right. It was a small bedroom with a window looking out from the back of the house. The room had a deep red carpet and red curtains. The large bed had red satin sheets, and a matching duvet. The small, pale body lay like a doll on the bed, and the white skin contrasted with the dark hair cascading across the pillow. She was wearing a satin nightdress in deep blue. A matching negligee lay untidily across the bottom of the bed, its sleeves falling almost to the floor. On a chair beside the bed were some daytime clothes - a pair of jeans, a jumper, and a matching set of bra and pants. A pair of trainers had been kicked under the chair.

Sophie looked closely at the woman's upper torso and neck. Can I move her head?'

McGreedie nodded. She put on a pair of latex gloves and gently turned the neck to get a better look at the ligature pattern.

Yes,' she said. The marks are similar to those on Donna's mother. With her we think it was some kind of thick cord. Have a look, Lydia. You saw the marks on her. Do they look similarly placed to you? Sorry, but I need you to check.'

Pillay bent over the body.

I think so, ma'am. The scarring looks quite precise, just like at Corfe, and in about the same position. As if whoever it was knew what he was doing.'

Sophie turned to McGreedie.

Well, you have our thoughts, Kevin. We think it could be the same guy, and he was no novice at strangulation. Beyond that, I can't add anything. I'm totally mystified as to why she needed to die, other than that maybe she knew something that he didn't want let out. That's if there is a reason.'

There was a short silence.

You think it might have been done for the sake of it? No other reason? He could be a psychopath killing at random?' asked Silver.

I don't think that's the case, but we have to consider it. Nothing can be ruled out at this stage. What are your thoughts, Kevin?'

I don't disagree with you, Sophie. Thank God you've got someone in custody already, because three murders inside twenty-four hours would just be too terrible to contemplate if he was still on the loose. But it worries me that there are no leads here, nothing substantial to go on. Let's follow the MOM principle, shall we? Means? He was prepared and had the cord with him. Opportunity? Early morning is quiet in this area, particularly mid-week. Either she knew him and let him in, or he'd booked a session with her. Motive? Well, that's the unknown, as Sophie has said. We've already started to take statements from the other flat occupants, and the neighbours. We know her name was Susie Pater, that she was twenty-four, and that she came from Exeter. We're trying to trace her family now.'

So where do we go from here?' asked Silver.

If you're asking what I think you are, Matt, then I'm quite happy to let Kevin deal with this end of things,' said Sophie. Particularly since he's made such a good start. But if it is what we think, the work of the same man, then it has to form part of the same investigation. I'd like Kevin to report everything to me. That's if you're happy with that, Kevin?'

He nodded. Fine by me. It makes sense.'

I'm sure we'll work together well. If we keep each other informed of everything we discover, then we can bounce ideas off each other. And you know this locality and the residents in it better than anyone else on the force. It would be pointless for us to muscle in and take over completely. In fact, do you want to come over and see our man for yourself tomorrow morning? I'm waiting for the results of some forensic evidence, and may end up charging him late morning.'

Absolutely. I'd like to see this guy, but I'm due in court tomorrow. Maybe Thursday?'

Fine. Has anyone put a time on her murder? Even a rough idea?' Sophie said.

Forensics won't commit at the moment. But the body temperature gave them something to go on and, as a rough estimate, they think it was somewhere between eight this morning and noon,' said McGreedie.

If that does get confirmed, then it fits the time frame for when our man was hanging around at the station. He was there from mid-morning until two, when he was spotted by a transport officer.'

That was pretty stupid. Why on earth didn't he just hop on the first train out?'

It's complicated, Kevin. By the way, who found the body here?'

A friend of hers called Bernice Halley. I think she's another working girl. Apparently they were due to meet for lunch at one, and when Susie didn't turn up her friend got worried. Susie was always prompt. She wasn't answering her mobile, and that was unusual. Her friend called by and found the door locked, yet a couple of windows were open. That was also unusual. She had a spare key, and our victim had one for her place. A sort of mutual safety plan in case of trouble, although it didn't work in this case. She found things as you see them, had a screaming fit and then called us in.'

I wonder if she'd already been up and about, dressed in those clothes on the chair. They're the kind of things she might have put on for breakfast and a visit to the shops. Any evidence that she'd been out?'

No. We don't think she had. No one else in the building had heard her go out, although I expect that there are plenty of comings and goings here. But the local shops hadn't seen her this morning.'

Thanks. I'll just have a quick look round, if that's okay. Barry, you're with me on this.'

Sophie opened a small wardrobe that occupied a corner of the bedroom. Hanging inside were several glitzy dresses, a couple of tight skirts and three faux-fur jackets. Pairs of high heels were neatly aligned on the floor, along with several pairs of boots. On the top shelf stood a row of wigs, all on individual stands, and some ornate masks.

The dressing table unit contained a range of make-up, and two drawers of colourful lingerie. Another drawer had a neatly stacked pile of silk and satin blouses and strappy tops, while a fourth held some shiny, vinyl clothes.

It's all well-organised, Barry. A lot cleaner and tidier than similar places I've seen. What do you think?'

Her outfits are the kind of stuff I'd expect. As for neatness, all I can say is that it's better than my place. Makes me a bit ashamed.'

Sophie left the bedroom and walked slowly through the rest of the small flat, with Marsh following. There was a small toilet and shower room, decorated in white tiles with a pale yellow pattern. The room, too small for a bath, had a tiny washbasin fitted into one corner. She opened the cabinet, and looked at the bottles of pills and medicines on the shelves. There was nothing out of the ordinary - painkillers, birth control pills, vitamin pills and several packets of condoms, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. The other shelves contained cotton wool, cleansing creams and hair products.

A small window looked out over the front garden to the road. The top fanlight window was open on the latch. This must have been the one that her friend had spotted. Most people wouldn't bother closing an upper-floor window as small and as invulnerable as this when leaving the house for a short time. Yet, according to her friend, Susie always secured all of her windows before going out.

The tiny kitchen was also decorated in pale yellow. A fabric-block print of sunflowers hung on one wall. A table was pushed close against one of the other walls with two chairs beneath it. There was a sink under the window, with a small worktop beside it. Fitted against a third wall was a small electric stove, with a fridge and a tiny microwave oven nearby. Sophie opened the cupboards and peered inside at the few packets and tins of food on the shelves. The sparse collection of cooking utensils didn't look as if they were used much. The fridge contained some milk, cheese, butter and some salad vegetables, but little else. The window faced out over the front of the house and, just like the bathroom, had a small top section open slightly.

Could you see yourself living here, Barry?'

No. Grubby neighbourhood,' he said.

I mean in this flat. Forget where it is.'

Possibly. It would be okay for one person. A bit poky, but I could cope fine.'

What about the food that's here? Any thoughts?'

Well, she was obviously into salads. The microwave is fine. I eat a lot of ready meals. She doesn't seem to have any. I'd put a TV onto the worktop over there. You could sit and watch while eating your dinner. She doesn't seem to have a telly.'

Sophie didn't reply. The flat didn't feel right to her, but she was too tired to work out why.

Time to go,' she said.

They returned to the hallway and Sophie turned to speak to McGreedie, who was standing and waiting for them. Three coat hooks hung from the wall beside his head, empty except for a brown leather jacket which didn't seem to be hanging straight. Sophie reached out and moved the jacket aside. Then she stood still, looking at the long, slender umbrella that was now exposed to view. It was deep burgundy, patterned with tiny, ornate roses. She turned to smile at McGreedie, put on a pair of latex gloves from her bag, and carefully lifted the umbrella into a plastic evidence bag.

A connection. I don't know how it links them, or what it means, but this is it. A silk designer umbrella in burgundy with a flower pattern. Donna had this last night when she left the hotel.'

Sophie was curled up on the couch in her lounge, sipping coffee after the light supper that Martin had prepared. She'd changed into slacks and a cashmere jumper after a quick shower.

Are you sure you've had enough to eat?' he asked.

Yes, thanks. It was lovely. I've been snacking during the day, so I wasn't totally famished. And you're a genius with pasta. I don't know how you do it.'

Sheer talent,' he said. Coupled with the fact that the chicken was on special offer in the supermarket, as was that jar of posh sauce. Couldn't go wrong. I got Jade to pop into the shops on her way home from school. She knows what you like.'

Sophie glanced at their teenage daughter who was sitting in the corner of the room reading a geography text-book. Thanks, sweetheart.'

Jade yawned. I'm off to bed. That hockey practice has worn me out.'

She waved to her parents as she left the room. The TV was on, but Sophie paid little attention to it. She flicked through a small pile of photos that she'd taken out of her bag. This was the third time she'd looked at them. She was frowning slightly.

Something worrying you?'

Possibly, but I'm most likely being paranoid. I'm about to get the results of a DNA test on a couple of cigarette butts that still had a tiny amount of saliva on them. I was astonished that it hadn't been washed off by the rain. It was pouring down for most of last night, and they must have been lying there for several hours.'

She handed Martin the photos.

It looks as though they've been protected from the rain,' he said. I can see two butts, lying under a couple of leaves. A sort of umbrella effect? I'd say you've been really lucky. If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have thought there'd have been any saliva traces left. But then, I'm no expert. Maybe it doesn't get washed off by rain as much as I'd have expected.'

What's the leaf?' she asked. What type of tree?'

Looks like a sycamore.'

That's what I thought. There are a couple of sycamores in nearby gardens.'

He examined the photos more closely. Sophie, look at those fag ends again. They're almost touching, probably about a centimetre apart. What are the chances of a smoker dropping two butts, and them falling that close together, and then a leaf or two blowing over them and staying there, keeping them dry?'

Well, if they are that close together, then it increases the chances of a leaf covering them, I suppose. But I do see what you mean.'

You know, that leaf doesn't seem to be lying quite naturally on the ground. There's something odd about its position. Maybe it's just the photo. What do your colleagues think?'

Haven't told them. There are a few things I haven't mentioned. I just need some thinking time, and that hasn't happened yet. It's been non-stop today, and tomorrow won't be any different. It'll probably be even busier.'

Well, I could say that I'll be thinking of you tomorrow, but it wouldn't be true. Most of my thoughts will be on 11C's maths mock exam results.'

Sophie laughed. As they should be. Though I do hope you think of me sometimes during your working day.'

Yes, but it tends to be only when I see that tall sixth-former who looks like you from the back. Sorry!'

And I'm really sorry that there are no tall sixth-formers who look like me from the front. The wrinkles and drying skin haven't hit them yet.'

I'd take your face over theirs any day. Listen, I'm whacked and need to get to bed. And I think you need to as well.'

Yes, boss. This can all wait until tomorrow . . .'

Sophie stopped talking and stared into space.

Sophie? Are you alright?' Martin said.

Her face. I think I've seen it before somewhere. And quite recently.'

Whose face?'

Susie Pater. The young woman who was killed today. It was you mentioning faces just now. I knew something was niggling away at the back of my mind. Now where could it have been?'

CHAPTER 5: Scars and Bruises.

Wednesday Morning, Week 1 It was a bright and sunny morning with a fresh breeze blowing in from the sea. Sophie had sent a message to the incident room, listing the tasks she wanted done in the first half of the morning. Meanwhile she visited Benny Goodall at his lab in the hospital in Dorchester.

As soon as he saw her walk in, Benny said, I always see you and think here's trouble!' You look as fresh as ever, though I expect you were up half the night.'

It's all down to the careful application of cosmetics, Benny. Though careful is maybe not the word I should have chosen on this particular morning. Just don't examine me too closely under a strong light.'

They stood in front of a flat screen in his office.

Here are the results of the scans I had done,' said Goodall.

He clipped an X-ray to the screen and turned on the backlight.

What am I looking at?'

It shows her left leg below the knee. If you look carefully you can see the residual marks from a hairline fracture mid-fibula and lying just to the outside of centre. Here.'

He pointed to the scan, where a slight, thin shadow lay across the thinner of the two shin bones.

Now if you look closely with this magnifying glass, you'll also see a slight darkening on the surface of the tibia. It wasn't broken, but it does have a residual bruise scar.'

So?'

The most common explanation for this type of scarring is a kick. It's why footballers wear shin-pads. A hard kick in the middle of the shin can slide off the stronger tibia. It catches in the gap and causes the fibula to break. In this case it wasn't a complete break, just a hairline crack. But it's there, as clear as day.'

Can you be sure that it was caused by a kick?'

No, not totally. There could be other reasons. But it is likely.'

Okay . . . Could you face me, Benny? I want to act this out. It's your right leg, and I'm standing opposite you. I kick out like so.'

She moved her right leg so that the toe of her boot touched his shin, and then slid across the leg towards the outside.

That doesn't seem right. Let me try the left.'

This time she stood with her right leg taking her weight, and acted out a kick with the left.