Strange Blood by Lindsay Jayne Ashford

bathroom Foy pointed out how the killer could have cleaned himself up under the shower without leaving any forensic evidence of his own identity behind. Megan glanced around the small, immaculately-decorated room. The colour of the soap and the toilet paper matched the paintwork and the shell stencil on the walls was echoed on the laundry basket, the toothbrush holder and even the pedal bin.
    â€˜Presumably the towels have been taken away by the SOCOs,’ Megan said.
    Foy glanced at the notes in the folder he was carrying. ‘A towel was taken away, yes.’
    â€˜Just one?’
    He nodded. ‘Yes.’ He read from the inventory: ‘One blue hand towel with shell motif.’
    Megan flipped open the laundry basket. ‘Were there any towels in here?’
    â€˜No,’ Foy said. ‘Just clothes. SOCOs took them all. There were towels in the airing cupboard down there.’ He pointed back down the landing. ‘They’ve all been taken away for forensic analysis.’
    â€˜I don’t think you’ll find anything there either,’ Megan said quietly.
    Foy looked at her, puzzled.
    â€˜Where’s the bathtowel?’ Megan asked simply.
    Foy shrugged. ‘I don’t follow.’
    â€˜From what I’ve seen Tessa Ledbury was very house-proud. She had matching everything. The bathroom’s very small, I grant you, but I find it hard to believe there weren’t at least two towels in here…’
    â€˜Oh, I see what you’re getting at.’ The lines on Foy’s forehead suddenly disappeared.
    â€˜In fact, taking the towel might have served a dual purpose,’ Megan went on. ‘Not only does he have a trophy to fuel his fantasies, he also takes any forensic evidence from his own body away with him.’
    The sudden, loud ring of the doorbell made them both jump.
    â€˜That’ll be Dave and Kate,’ Foy said. ‘Shall we talk in the conservatory?’
    â€˜You actually want me to go and meet her?’ Delva stood open-mouthed in front of the news editor’s desk. ‘Des, are you winding me up?’
    â€˜No,’ he said, unwrapping a sandwich and swallowing a huge mouthful before looking up at her, ‘It could be important. You’re off shift in a couple of hours anyway. Liz can do the lunchtime bully – you look a bit knackered, anyway.’
    â€˜Well thanks a bunch,’ Delva muttered, ‘Nice to know I’m appreciated, I must say.’
    â€˜Oh come on, Delva. It’s not the sort of thing many people could handle. I’m sending you because I know I can trust you to handle it right, okay?’
    â€˜Hmm, I suppose so.’
    â€˜One thing, though,’ Des took another bite. ‘Take someone with you, just in case it’s a nutter. Get them to arrive at the café at the same time as you but don’t acknowlege them in any way. All right?’
    Delva wandered back to her desk and sat for a while staring at the phone. Suddenly she had an idea.
    *   *   *
    Detective Sergeant Dave Todd was hanging on Megan’s every word, but D.S. Kate O’Leary was taking some convincing. She had argued fiercely when Megan had pointed out the shortcomings of the occult theory and although she had now started scribbling notes, the look on her face made it clear that she did not set much store by the profile.
    â€˜We’re talking about a watcher,’ Megan was saying, ‘someone who picks out women who have particular significance for him, probably because of their physical appearance, and he’ll stalk them.’
    â€˜What sort of age would he be?’ Dave Todd asked.
    â€˜Probably mid-thirties. Possibly even older. We’re not dealing with a beginner here. I think whoever did this has killed before.’
    â€˜Why do you say that?’ Kate O’Leary looked up, biting the end of her pencil.
    â€˜Because of the length of time he spent with the victim