‘Let’s hope we get this case wrapped up quickly.’ Barrett changed the subject. ‘Otherwise we will all be working over Christmas.’

Palmer nodded in agreement. He couldn’t bear the idea of letting down his son and wife again. The job sometimes had to come first but it pained him to miss out on quality time with them both, especially at a time like this. Palmer made a promise to himself that he would work even harder than usual to get the case solved so that he could then, hopefully, enjoy a few days off with his family.

By the time Barrett and Palmer had returned to the crime scene it was awash with press, police and scene of crime officers. As before, tourists enjoying Cambridge in the snow had stopped to see what was happening.

‘We need to get that CCTV checked,’ Palmer said pointing up at a small camera that was attached to a lamppost, close to the entrance of the shop.

‘Yes. Good.’ Barrett wandered off in the direction of the bookshop waving at one of the SOCOs as he went.

‘Good to see you, Bob,’ Barrett said, shaking hands with a man dressed head-to-toe in white.

‘Got yourself another murder.’ Bob was pulling on blue nitrile gloves as he spoke.

‘Bit of a grizzly one,’ Barrett told his colleague.

‘The grizzlier the better.’ Bob winked as he headed indoors and out of the bitter cold that was blowing around the narrow, cobbled street.

Barrett liked Bob and his enthusiasm for the job, but he could never understand the man’s attitude. Barrett wondered if Bob joked in order to make the work easier and hoped that was the reason.

‘Not a suicide then,’ Bob chimed before he’d barely entered the room. He was an expert in his field and could read a crime scene in moments.

‘Doesn’t look like it,’ Barrett agreed, standing back to let his fellow officer work the scene.

‘Our perpetrator has made no attempt to conceal the murder. This was personal.’ Bob strained to get a better look at the man hanging from the ceiling.

‘Been reading those profiling books again.’ Barrett rolled his eyes. He was a copper who believed in good old-fashioned policing.

‘Just saying what I see.’ Bob continued to walk methodically around the room.

‘The finger.’ Bob pointed at Dennis Wade’s right hand. ‘You see that?’

The room was still dark, and fellow officers erected lights. They couldn’t turn on the light switch until it had been dusted for prints.

As Barrett squinted, he saw what Bob was referring to. Dennis Wade’s little finger was missing.

Chapter 3

1.43pm Friday 13th December

Tilly was driven home from the police station. They had brought her there to take her prints so, they told her, that she could be eliminated from their investigation. Not wanting to appear guilty of anything, Tilly had agreed.