Pritchard held her gaze for a second. ‘Experience, frankly.’ He waved at the room. ‘As you can imagine, I’ve seen my share of suicides. Most perpetrators take measures to ensure no one else is blamed, while a few try to frame their enemies on the way out. But I’ve yet to see anyone attempt to obscure all evidence of how they died. Not only is it extremely difficult; it’s pointless. Even if these three were so inclined, to manage it so effectively would require at least the assistance of a fourth party to clear up afterwards … which makes this euthanasia. And that, without wishing to tell you people your jobs, is illegal, isn’t it?’ He stopped, eyebrows raised.

‘Point taken,’ Hawkins interjected, aware that the stench was making everyone cranky, and not wishing to undermine Pritchard. ‘What are our chances of clean DNA traces?’

‘Not spectacular. The flat’s recent forensic history reveals a distinct lack of hygiene-aware occupants so, as you can imagine, the whole place is highly contaminated. There’s DNA from dozens of different people who passed through in the not-too-distant past, and the flat clearly hasn’t been properly cleaned for years, which presents a sizeable challenge to my team in extracting any useful information about recent visitors. We’ll keep trying, of course.’

‘Sod’s law,’ Hawkins said. ‘When will we get post-mortem results?’

‘We’ll finish up here and move operations back to the lab.’ Pritchard’s gaze returned briefly to the bodies. ‘I’ll work on them this afternoon. You’ll have everything I can give you by tomorrow morning at the latest.’

Hawkins thanked the pathologist and let him rejoin his team, before turning to Amala. ‘Get some support down here and do the rounds. Find out if the locals saw anything in the last few weeks that might be relevant. I’ll call the office and find someone to work on a full name, address and next of kin for Kowalski, then wait for the scene to be released and take a closer look.’ She glanced back as they headed for fresh air. ‘I have a feeling there’s a lot more to this one than meets the eye.’

4

Consciousness hit.

He jerked awake, sensing daylight, hearing the two-tone wail as it grew in the distance.

Coming nearer.

Then he was standing, his chair spinning away, scrambling round the desk to the window, peering out towards the source of the noise. Nothing to see.

He waited, head pounding, motionless till the siren’s pitch altered as it passed and began to retreat.

Not for him.

He stumbled back to the bed and sat, rolling his shoulders, reaching up to massage his neck, feeling his heart rate returning to normal as the sirens continued to fade. Frustration flared; this shit was supposed to be over. He hadn’t wanted any of it. But there was no other option.

Killing was the only way out.