‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ McNab said, indicating he was heading back to the station with DS Clark to report their findings to DI Wilson. ‘I’ll maybe catch up with you both later.’

The usual routine was for the team to meet up after work at the jazz club near the university where Sean played. The wind-down club as Sean occasionally called it.

Rhona gave a non-committal nod, her brain still full of what she was looking at.

Not so Chrissy. ‘I’ll definitely be heading there after all this,’ she declared. ‘With or without Dr MacLeod.’ She gave one of her grins which declared that fun might be had, even in the midst of adversity.

When McNab had departed, Chrissy said, ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Likely the same as you,’ Rhona said. ‘She was held in here, probably against her will . . .’

‘But not necessarily,’ Chrissy added. ‘Not initially anyway. We’ve seen the result of rough but consensual sex before.’

Rhona nodded. ‘But being doused in petrol hasn’t been a feature.’

‘Candle wax, yes. Petrol, no.’

‘Will you deal with this while I finish with the body? I’ll check back once the mortuary van’s been.’

‘Sure thing, boss.’

Back now in the tent, Rhona resumed her place beside the body and continued to make her notes, this time regarding what had been discovered in the top-floor flat and how it might relate to what had happened here.

It did appear, as Chrissy had suggested, that the victim had managed to break free, or else her captor had freed her. Whichever way it’d happened, she’d come down here, already doused in petrol, barefoot, and in the midst of the storm.

Perhaps she’d believed she’d escaped and that was why she had her handbag with her? Alternatively, her attacker had wished it to appear that way.

When the mortuary van finally arrived, Rhona said a silent goodbye. Emerging from the tent, she stood to one side as the body bag was carried out on its stretcher. At that point she noticed the figure of an elderly man at a ground-level window, a large black cat in his arms. Both were avidly watching the proceedings.

That, she realized, must be the good Samaritan who had tried to save the girl’s life.

If only the wind hadn’t been so strong that night. If only he had got out here sooner with the blanket.

Rhona could only imagine what was going through his mind as he watched them carry the girl away, although, she thought, it might be both of those things. What she did know was that none of his thoughts were of any comfort to him.

Heading into the close, she met Chrissy on her way down the stairs.

‘The SOCOs are going over the rest of the flat. The evidence from the bedroom is already in the van. Shall we head for the lab?’