DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense by MICHAEL HAMBLING Page A

of commercial premises and terraced houses, but these soon gave way to larger properties, some converted into guest houses and hotels. It was easy to spot the building they were seeking. Two squad cars were parked outside, and a uniformed policeman stood guard at the door. The paint was peeling from the window frames and doors. The house looked as if it had been subdivided into six flats, spread across three floors. Sophie couldn’t help comparing the building to the neatly-kept block in Swanage where Donna had lived.
    Inside, the décor was worn but clean. They were met by Kevin McGreedie, a tall plain-clothes officer. Sophie liked him. He’d been in the Dorset police longer than her, and knew the criminals who operated in the Bournemouth and Poole area better than any other detective.
    ‘Evening, Kevin,’ said Silver. ‘I think you know Sophie Allen?’
    ‘Of course, sir. Glad to see you both. You’re very welcome, if that’s a word I can use in a situation like this. I understand you’re investigating a couple of murders over in Swanage that might be related to this one.’
    ‘We’re holding a suspect at the station, Kevin,’ said Sophie. ‘The murders took place last night, but our man spent this morning here in Bournemouth waiting at the station for a London train. He was here for a good couple of hours. Lydia heard about the death here, and contacted Bob for details. One of ours was a strangling. In both cases the homes were ransacked in an odd way, and from what we heard that was what happened here. Is that what you’ve found?’
    ‘Yes. The girl was strangled and someone has searched the flat. It’s really more of a glorified bedsit, really. Anyway, we can’t find any communications, lists, diaries or phones. Even the landline phone has gone missing, although we’re pretty sure there was one. Forensics have just about finished, and they haven’t found a thing that can be used to positively identify our victim.’
    ‘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