She opened her eyes and shot a jealous glance at the woman in the corner. The steam seemed less thick and Vera saw that she was middle-aged rather than elderly. Short curly hair, a plain blue costume. Slender, with long, shapely legs. Only then, as a hidden draught cleared the mist again, did Vera realize that her companion was too still and her skin was too pale. The object of Vera’s envy was dead.

Chapter Two

Out in the pool area the aerobics class had begun. There was music, though only the thumping bass beat was discernible. Vera looked over the swing door. In the water the women were twisting their bodies and waving their hands in the air. She bent over the body and felt for a pulse, knowing as she did so that she wouldn’t find one. The woman had been murdered. There were petechiae in the whites of the eyes and bruising around the neck. She knew it was wrong, but a little voice in Vera’s head shouted in excitement. Now she hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to create mass panic. Neither was she prepared to greet medics or colleagues in a black bathing costume, which gave her the appearance of a small barrage balloon. She needed to dress first.

A young woman in the uniform dress of yellow polo shirt and yellow shorts was collecting sponge floats from the side of the pool. Vera waved her over.

‘Yes?’ A badge strung around the woman’s neck on a bit of nylon string said she was called Lisa. She dropped the floats into a pile, gave a professional smile.

‘There’s a dead woman in the steam room.’ The background noise was so loud that Vera had no anxiety that she’d be overheard.

But the girl had heard her. The smile disappeared. Lisa stared at her, speechless and horrified.

‘I’m the police,’ Vera said. ‘Detective Inspector Stanhope. Stand there. Don’t go in and don’t let anyone else in.’ Still no response. Lisa continued to stare. ‘Did you hear me?’

Lisa nodded – still, it seemed, unable to speak.

The changing room was almost empty because the class was continuing. Vera pulled her mobile from the locker and phoned Joe Ashworth, her sergeant. For a moment she considered lying. I was having coffee in the bar and the staff called me down when they found the body. But of course that wouldn’t do. She’d sweated in the steam room, sneezed. Her DNA would be there. Along with that of a countless number of health-club members. Besides, how many times had she ranted about the small lies told by witnesses to hide embarrassment?

With her free hand Vera pulled on her knickers. Once the class was over, people would be queuing up to use the steam room and she wasn’t sure the little lassie in yellow had it in her to stop them.

Ashworth answered.

‘I’ve got a suspicious death,’ she said. No need after all to go into how she came to be involved. She sketched in the details. ‘Get things moving and get yourself down here.’