Blood Loss by Kerena Swan (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📗

dusty, wooden changing rooms. It must be the bleach the cleaners used and the wooden walls and ceiling.

‘When did the SIO release the crime scene?’ Cheryl asked.

‘Two days ago.’ The evidence would have been photographed, bagged and labelled, and would now be with the forensics lab. ‘I’ve got copies of the photographs to go through, and if we want a closer look at any objects we can ask to see them.’

‘Did the search of the grounds and surrounding area throw up any evidence?’

‘Apart from the tyre tracks, nothing.’

They wandered from room to room and Paton couldn’t suppress a shudder as he stared at the floor where the body had lain. The cleaners had done a good job and there was no trace of the violence that had ended a man’s life. He paused in the doorway and tried to visualise the scene. If it was a couple staying here for an illicit week of romance then why would they be in this tiny bedroom when there were two others? The room had been completely empty of belongings on the day of the crime – just sparse furnishings of a chest of drawers and single bed. As he stared, his attention was caught by the scene through the window. It almost looked like a landscape painting hanging on the wall. He stepped forward and gazed at the spectacular view of rolling hills, majestic trees and the distant loch. It was beautiful, and for a moment he forgot why he was there.

‘Boss?’ Cheryl appeared in the doorway. ‘Had an epiphany yet?’

‘Sadly not.’

He walked towards her then stopped abruptly. They were standing in the exact spot where the murder had taken place. Had the girlfriend walked in to talk to Robert Nash as he admired the view? Is this where he told her he had a wife and they had no future together? He could see it all now as though it were playing out in front of him. He recalled the bloodied tea towel on the floor. Had she been drying the dishes when he called her in to admire the scene from the window? What sort of woman would lose control and attack a man with such frenzy? She must have been smothered in blood.

There had been no female’s belongings left in the cabin, but Robert’s had been strewn about as though she’d packed in a hurry. Did she get changed first or did she panic and run out in her stained clothing? And what about her shoes? The forensics officer had told him the footprints in the blood indoors and earth outside had been checked against the National Footwear Reference Collection and they now knew the size, manufacturer and roughly when the shoes were made. Adidas trainers, size six.

They’d even got an idea of the degree of wear and a unique pattern where there was a nick in one part of the sole, probably from a sharp stone. The shoes were quite worn which indicated a possible lack of funds or someone who preferred comfort over appearance. If the police eventually tracked her down, they’d be able to match the prints to her shoes, if she still had them.

He reeled his thoughts back a moment to consider other options. What if someone else killed Robert Nash and took the girlfriend or she ran away and was hiding? No. Highly unlikely. Anyway, there were no other footprints and it would have been impossible to clear up some of them without touching the others. Paton was now convinced the killer was a woman.

He looked around the rest of the cabin then joined Cheryl in the garden.

‘I wonder what the owner will do with the place now,’ she said.

‘From what I’ve heard, people have cancelled their bookings. Unless he rents it to one of those ghost spotting programmes, he’ll have to accept it’s going to be empty until people’s memories fade. Come on. I’ve seen enough.’

Paton drove even more cautiously back along the drive, thinking through what had happened there. ‘Any thoughts?’ he asked Cheryl.

‘I’ve been wondering about the blood,’ she said. ‘The killer would have had to change clothes before going anywhere public.’

‘Exactly. If you needed to get changed, where would you go?’

‘I’d park somewhere remote and change in the car, maybe, or find a petrol station with a toilet I could reach from the outside rather than walking through the shop.’

‘Good thinking. We need to check CCTV at the service stations on the journey to Manchester.’

He looked at his watch. He needed to leave on time tonight. He’d promised to take Wendy and Tommy to see the latest Toy Story film and he’d already been late home three times this week.

Chapter 28

March | Sarah

As soon as I wake my stomach flips with excitement. My DNA results should arrive today. I could go to the library to open my e-mail and print off the report but I can’t wait that long. I know Desperate Derek has got a flashy computer and printer for his dodgy car dealing business. I’m sure he’ll let me use his equipment. Huh. I pause, realising I used a double entendre there, but I can’t laugh at it because Derek – and his equipment – are so repulsive. The thought of what I let him do to me still fills me with disgust, even though I had no choice.

I dress quickly and go straight to Derek’s house. I’m not interested in breakfast. He takes a while to open the door and is still in his dressing-gown. He blinks in the bright sunshine and pulls his robe tighter across his skinny chest.

‘Come back for more?’ He looks me up and down then gives me a lascivious grin.

Like fuck I have, you old lech. ‘Hi Derek, I wondered if you wouldn’t mind letting me check and print an e-mail?’ I say in my best sing-song voice. ‘I’m happy to pay for it.’ I hold out a pound coin.

‘No need to pay.’ He opens the door wide and throws his