good-looking fifty-year-old, he had worked for the northern region for only seven years, during which time he’d built up
an excellent reputation in his field of expertise. His impressive qualifications included Bachelor of Medicine, Fellow of the Royal College of Pathologists and Honorary Lecturer in Pathology at the
University of Edinburgh. He was held in high regard by the police and well liked by Daniels herself.
Though they shared the ability to function with very little sleep, quite how he managed to look so fresh remained a mystery to her. Despite a shower and change of clothes, she still felt jaded
from being up all night.
Outside Stephens’ fourth-floor apartment a male officer was on sentry duty.
Daniels held up her warrant card. ‘This is Mr Stanton, Home Office Pathologist, and I am DCI Daniels.’ She checked her watch. ‘I make it five past one. Time our entry and
don’t let anyone else in here while the body is being examined. Understood?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ The officer stood aside to let them through.
At the door to the victim’s apartment, Daniels bent down and opened up a large box containing forensic clothing. Reaching inside it, she withdrew two packets and handed one over to Stanton
just as the lift arrived on their floor. Waiting for the door to open, she was rattled when Bright emerged from the lift and fought hard not to let it show – Super or no Super, she’d
have given him a piece of her mind if Stanton hadn’t been there. What the hell did he think he was playing at?
Bright exchanged pleasantries with Stanton as they all got kitted up. Zipping up her forensic suit, Daniels slipped blue plastic overshoes over her own, reminded of a house-hunting expedition
she’d undertaken with her mother years before. It had been a gloomy Sunday afternoon. Following their usual visit to church and a pub lunch, she’d driven her mother to a new housing
development. Her father declined to join them with the usual lame excuse that he was too busy.
Fingering the plastic material in her hands, Daniels could almost hear her mother’s laughter, see her moving around the show home looking the picture of health in a new red dress –
unaware of the cancer eating its way into her lung. They’d clomped around with blue plastic feet in a house they could ill afford, giggling like a couple of teenagers.
The powerful nostalgic image made Daniels smile. Then suddenly her smile disappeared and was replaced by a dark sadness she found hard to bear and even harder to hide. Looking up, she was
relieved to see that neither Stanton nor Bright had been paying her any attention. They had moved along the hallway and were having a discussion at the living-room door.
Stanton was making a small sketch of the apartment with his gold Cross pen that rolled effortlessly across the paper like water over a weir. Daniels didn’t need to see the sketch to know
that it would be meticulous in every detail. It was the way he did things and she was delighted that he was going to be working with her on her first case as Senior Investigating Officer.
In the living room, she walked carefully round the corpse and drew back the window blinds, allowing them some natural light. When she turned around, Stanton was already gloved up and on his
knees inspecting the body, careful not to handle or move it as he began his initial observations with Bright looking on.
‘The victim’s wife formally identified the body in situ,’ Bright loosened his tie, his well-trained eyes scanning the room. ‘Said she found him like this when she
returned to the flat at approximately twelve forty-five this morning.’ His comment floated in the air as he wandered off into the hallway, opening and closing doors on either side. A brief
check and he was back. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay. I have another appointment at two.’
‘I’m surprised you have any time at all to spare guv,’ Daniels said pointedly. ‘With your latest case at
an excellent reputation in his field of expertise. His impressive qualifications included Bachelor of Medicine, Fellow of the Royal College of Pathologists and Honorary Lecturer in Pathology at the
University of Edinburgh. He was held in high regard by the police and well liked by Daniels herself.
Though they shared the ability to function with very little sleep, quite how he managed to look so fresh remained a mystery to her. Despite a shower and change of clothes, she still felt jaded
from being up all night.
Outside Stephens’ fourth-floor apartment a male officer was on sentry duty.
Daniels held up her warrant card. ‘This is Mr Stanton, Home Office Pathologist, and I am DCI Daniels.’ She checked her watch. ‘I make it five past one. Time our entry and
don’t let anyone else in here while the body is being examined. Understood?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ The officer stood aside to let them through.
At the door to the victim’s apartment, Daniels bent down and opened up a large box containing forensic clothing. Reaching inside it, she withdrew two packets and handed one over to Stanton
just as the lift arrived on their floor. Waiting for the door to open, she was rattled when Bright emerged from the lift and fought hard not to let it show – Super or no Super, she’d
have given him a piece of her mind if Stanton hadn’t been there. What the hell did he think he was playing at?
Bright exchanged pleasantries with Stanton as they all got kitted up. Zipping up her forensic suit, Daniels slipped blue plastic overshoes over her own, reminded of a house-hunting expedition
she’d undertaken with her mother years before. It had been a gloomy Sunday afternoon. Following their usual visit to church and a pub lunch, she’d driven her mother to a new housing
development. Her father declined to join them with the usual lame excuse that he was too busy.
Fingering the plastic material in her hands, Daniels could almost hear her mother’s laughter, see her moving around the show home looking the picture of health in a new red dress –
unaware of the cancer eating its way into her lung. They’d clomped around with blue plastic feet in a house they could ill afford, giggling like a couple of teenagers.
The powerful nostalgic image made Daniels smile. Then suddenly her smile disappeared and was replaced by a dark sadness she found hard to bear and even harder to hide. Looking up, she was
relieved to see that neither Stanton nor Bright had been paying her any attention. They had moved along the hallway and were having a discussion at the living-room door.
Stanton was making a small sketch of the apartment with his gold Cross pen that rolled effortlessly across the paper like water over a weir. Daniels didn’t need to see the sketch to know
that it would be meticulous in every detail. It was the way he did things and she was delighted that he was going to be working with her on her first case as Senior Investigating Officer.
In the living room, she walked carefully round the corpse and drew back the window blinds, allowing them some natural light. When she turned around, Stanton was already gloved up and on his
knees inspecting the body, careful not to handle or move it as he began his initial observations with Bright looking on.
‘The victim’s wife formally identified the body in situ,’ Bright loosened his tie, his well-trained eyes scanning the room. ‘Said she found him like this when she
returned to the flat at approximately twelve forty-five this morning.’ His comment floated in the air as he wandered off into the hallway, opening and closing doors on either side. A brief
check and he was back. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay. I have another appointment at two.’
‘I’m surprised you have any time at all to spare guv,’ Daniels said pointedly. ‘With your latest case at