‘She could have taken a lethal dose and then come – or been brought – here to die,’ Becky suggested. ‘Or she could have died somewhere else and been brought here by a third party – removed from the place of death to avoid incriminating them.’

Tom nodded. ‘The pathologist might be able to tell us whether she died here, and we’ll have to wait for the post-mortem for the cause of death. Drugs were the first thing that came to mind, but Jumbo pointed out that there is the faintest hint of cyanosis in her face. I know it’s not a sure thing, but that would normally indicate hypoxia. If so, how?’

Lynsey had joined them as Tom spoke, and Becky could see the confusion in her face.

‘Cyanosis is when the skin takes on a bluish colour, which is usually associated with a lack of oxygen, Lynsey,’ Becky explained. ‘This is normally due to being asphyxiated – smothered, strangled, drowned – but she doesn’t look like she’s been in the water, and if she’d been strangled we would expect to see petechial haemorrhaging – small red dots on the skin.’

At the crunch of footsteps on frozen snow, Jumbo looked up and jerked his head towards the new arrival.

‘Here’s someone I suspect might have the answers,’ he said. ‘Amelia Sanders – likes to be called Amy. She’s the new Home Office pathologist for this area, and I think you’ll both like her.’

Becky turned towards the path. A small, thin woman with cropped black hair was striding towards them.

‘You must be DCI Douglas,’ she said to Tom. ‘Amy Sanders.’ She nodded briskly to Becky and Lynsey. ‘Right, Jumbo. Let the dog see the rabbit then.’

Jumbo stood back to let Amy and Tom go ahead, turning to wink at Becky before he disappeared into the hide.

CHAPTER 7

7

I think it’s raining outside. I don’t know for sure because I can’t hear it and there are no windows in the room. But the air smells different. There is a mustiness creeping through small gaps under the locked doors and through the air bricks that at least allow me to breathe. I realise how much I have begun to rely on all my senses. Perhaps because for a while they were dulled, damaged, deadened.

I know the others have finished eating. I can’t hear them because they rarely speak, but the squeak of chair legs against the old linoleum floor tells me they are moving to the sink to wash their pots.