she was viewing under the microscope had a distinctive medulla and had come from an animal. Which animal, Rhona had no idea.
She didn’t hear the door open, so engrossed was she in her study. The suited figure was behind her before she registered its presence.
‘Chrissy!’ Rhona stood up and threw her arms around her visitor. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Sam’s at the university showing Michael off to anyone in the Faculty of Medicine who might be remotely interested, so I thought I’d pop in and see you.’
Above the mask, Chrissy’s eyes searched hers.
‘I heard about the girl in the park. What have you got?’
Rhona waved her to the microscope.
Chrissy settled herself on the stool and took a long look. ‘A hair, but not human.’
‘I agree.’
‘Even though it’s bright red.’
Rhona was about to remind Chrissy when her own hair had been a similar colour.
Chrissy got in first. ‘I liked my hair that colour. I’d do it again but I might scare wee Michael.’
Rhona laughed. ‘I miss you.’
‘Not for much longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m coming back.’
‘But it’s too soon.’
‘My mum’s desperate to look after her first grandchild, even if he is black.’ She grinned. ‘Hey, now the USA has a black President, it’s cool to be black.’
‘And your dad?’
‘Mum put up with a lot over the years, but when the old bastard tried to stop her seeing the baby, she threw him out.’
Chrissy was the only girl in a family of wayward boys ruled by a domineering father. One son had broken the trend, Patrick, Chrissy’s favourite. He’d left, hiding his homosexuality from his parents. Chrissy had covered for him, desperate that her father and brothers shouldn’t find out and deny her mother access to her oldest son.
‘Well, it would be great to have you back,’ said Rhona.
‘So tell me about the funfair.’
When Rhona had finished, Chrissy shook her head in disbelief. ‘It sounds like an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer .’
‘What?’
‘I got hooked on the box set of Buffy when I was breastfeeding. My God, can that girl kick ass. And the boyfriend, Angel, is hot.’
‘Didn’t you get enough witchcraft on the torso case?’
Chrissy had met Sam while on that case. It was his Nigerian mother who’d alerted them to the practices of a witchdoctor in Kano, helping them solve it.
Chrissy was deep in thought, and not about witchcraft. ‘The hair’s quite long, could it have come from a wig?’
Wig manufacturers often threaded animal and human hair, then dyed it to the required colour. It was a possibility.
‘I could do a bit of research,’ she suggested. ‘Let you get on with something else.’
‘Oh my God!’ Rhona glanced at the clock. ‘I’m due at the strategy meeting in ten minutes. Slater will drip sarcasm if I’m late.’
‘Bill’s not back?’
‘His court case was scheduled for today. I haven’t heard the outcome yet.’
The meeting had already begun. Rhona slipped in at the back. Roy’s footage of the locus was on the big screen, Kira’s mutilated body reflected in the surrounding mirrors of the maze. Slater was in full flow, giving a rundown of their call to the scene via a 999 by the victim’s boyfriend, David Murdoch, who said he’d found her.
The way Slater said this suggested he was of the ‘first witness, first suspect’ school of thought.
‘The victim was last seen by David and two other friends, Alexandra Stewart-Smith and Owen Hegarty, sometime after eleven o’clock.’ Slater’s loaded pronunciation of the names suggested his interpretation of the difference in their social class. ‘According to all three of them, Kira said she was going for candyfloss and never returned. The ticket seller on the mirror maze confirms she did enter alone, he thought about half past eleven, and seemed anxious to get inside. He also said the tented structure could be accessed other than by the entrance and exit by slipping under the
She didn’t hear the door open, so engrossed was she in her study. The suited figure was behind her before she registered its presence.
‘Chrissy!’ Rhona stood up and threw her arms around her visitor. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Sam’s at the university showing Michael off to anyone in the Faculty of Medicine who might be remotely interested, so I thought I’d pop in and see you.’
Above the mask, Chrissy’s eyes searched hers.
‘I heard about the girl in the park. What have you got?’
Rhona waved her to the microscope.
Chrissy settled herself on the stool and took a long look. ‘A hair, but not human.’
‘I agree.’
‘Even though it’s bright red.’
Rhona was about to remind Chrissy when her own hair had been a similar colour.
Chrissy got in first. ‘I liked my hair that colour. I’d do it again but I might scare wee Michael.’
Rhona laughed. ‘I miss you.’
‘Not for much longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m coming back.’
‘But it’s too soon.’
‘My mum’s desperate to look after her first grandchild, even if he is black.’ She grinned. ‘Hey, now the USA has a black President, it’s cool to be black.’
‘And your dad?’
‘Mum put up with a lot over the years, but when the old bastard tried to stop her seeing the baby, she threw him out.’
Chrissy was the only girl in a family of wayward boys ruled by a domineering father. One son had broken the trend, Patrick, Chrissy’s favourite. He’d left, hiding his homosexuality from his parents. Chrissy had covered for him, desperate that her father and brothers shouldn’t find out and deny her mother access to her oldest son.
‘Well, it would be great to have you back,’ said Rhona.
‘So tell me about the funfair.’
When Rhona had finished, Chrissy shook her head in disbelief. ‘It sounds like an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer .’
‘What?’
‘I got hooked on the box set of Buffy when I was breastfeeding. My God, can that girl kick ass. And the boyfriend, Angel, is hot.’
‘Didn’t you get enough witchcraft on the torso case?’
Chrissy had met Sam while on that case. It was his Nigerian mother who’d alerted them to the practices of a witchdoctor in Kano, helping them solve it.
Chrissy was deep in thought, and not about witchcraft. ‘The hair’s quite long, could it have come from a wig?’
Wig manufacturers often threaded animal and human hair, then dyed it to the required colour. It was a possibility.
‘I could do a bit of research,’ she suggested. ‘Let you get on with something else.’
‘Oh my God!’ Rhona glanced at the clock. ‘I’m due at the strategy meeting in ten minutes. Slater will drip sarcasm if I’m late.’
‘Bill’s not back?’
‘His court case was scheduled for today. I haven’t heard the outcome yet.’
The meeting had already begun. Rhona slipped in at the back. Roy’s footage of the locus was on the big screen, Kira’s mutilated body reflected in the surrounding mirrors of the maze. Slater was in full flow, giving a rundown of their call to the scene via a 999 by the victim’s boyfriend, David Murdoch, who said he’d found her.
The way Slater said this suggested he was of the ‘first witness, first suspect’ school of thought.
‘The victim was last seen by David and two other friends, Alexandra Stewart-Smith and Owen Hegarty, sometime after eleven o’clock.’ Slater’s loaded pronunciation of the names suggested his interpretation of the difference in their social class. ‘According to all three of them, Kira said she was going for candyfloss and never returned. The ticket seller on the mirror maze confirms she did enter alone, he thought about half past eleven, and seemed anxious to get inside. He also said the tented structure could be accessed other than by the entrance and exit by slipping under the