Page 10 of Three Widows

‘Hi there, Grainne. You won’t believe this, but I was wishing for something to relieve me from spreadsheet head-wreck week. I honestly didn’t wish for someone to be murdered, though.’

‘I’ve just arrived. Is it definitely murder?’

‘Unofficial report says gunshot wound to the head.’

‘Shit.’ Grainne put down her case on one of the plates and shoved her wild red hair under her hood. She fixed her mask over her mouth. ‘Is Detective Boyd with you?’

‘He’s pulling on his whites. After you.’

Lottie stood back to allow the SOCO to enter the tent. It had been hastily erected over the body in an attempt to preserve potential evidence from the rain. Bit late for that, she thought.

Another SOCO stood at the dead girl’s head, awaiting instruction from Grainne. The only sound was the patter of rain against the canvas.

‘She wasn’t killed here,’ Grainne said immediately.

‘Because there’s no blood?’ Lottie asked.

‘Yep.’ Grainne knelt on the plastic sheeting.

‘Could it have been washed away?’

‘Maybe. It rained during the night, and then there’s this most recent shower, though I’d still expect to see some discoloration of the soil.’

Lottie leaned over Grainne’s shoulder to study the victim. The young woman’s face was pretty in an understated way. Not an ounce of spare flesh on her frame. Bone thin. Her neck was long and slender, and bruised. They might get lucky with DNA from that area. Her dress was low-cut, and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her red hair put Lottie in mind of Grainne’s locks. They could be sisters, the two women.

She let her gaze linger on the victim’s damaged face. Birds had pecked at the pale skin, and it seemed both eyes had been plucked from their sockets. She felt a rush of bile, and quickly swallowed it back down.

‘Early to mid thirties, I’d estimate,’ she said. ‘God, this is horrific. She’s someone’s daughter, sister, partner or wife. Could even be someone’s mother.’ She mourned for the unnamed woman whose family was about to be plunged into a tortuous nightmare.

‘Gunshot. Left temple. If I’m not mistaken, both arms and one leg are broken.’

Lottie had noticed the awkward angles of the bones, and the torn flesh. ‘Did she fall from a height? Or was she thrown? Pushed?’

Grainne glanced at her. ‘Wait until the state pathologist—’

‘Yeah, I know.’ She was impatient to learn more. ‘One thing’s for sure, she didn’t walk out here and lie down on the ground while someone shot her in the head.’

‘Her feet are scratched and torn,’ Grainne said.

Hunkering down, Lottie squinted at the small, delicate feet, probably a size four. Grainne was right. ‘Is it possible someone walked her here, then broke her limbs and shot her?’

‘Like I said, there’s no visible blood. She could have been dragged here. But the ground’s turned into a mud bath, and after the carnival vacated the site, they left behind a multitude of tyre tracks.’

‘What’s that around her mouth?’ Lottie scrutinised the sticky black substance on the victim’s lips and cheeks.

‘I’d say she was bound with tape. Possibly duct tape, but the black makes me think it could be insulation tape. We might get lucky and be able to lift fingerprints from the residue.’

About to turn away, Lottie said, ‘The dress looks like light cotton.’

‘A party dress?’ Grainne said.

‘A summer dress.’ Boyd entered the confined space. ‘Shot somewhere else?’

‘Looks that way,’ Grainne said, opening her case to begin work.

Lottie left the tent. Pulling off her mask, she breathed in the damp morning air to unclog the scent of death.

Boyd joined her. ‘There are security cameras on the depot over there, but all the showrooms with the high-resolution cameras are on the other side of the retail park.’

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