‘The second locus,’ Erling said as they reached the main arena in sudden and blessed silence. ‘A warning, though. Someone’s vomited just inside.’

Under the arc lights, already set up, the image presented was garish and disturbing. The victim nearest them was female, dressed in a leather, Viking-like tunic, her long blonde hair, which was threaded with braids, partially covering her face. She lay on her back, exposing a long open gash that ran from her neck to her stomach. The tunic was short and pleated, exposing her legs, which were pitted with smaller surface wounds.

Rhona registered all of this, then switched her attention to the male.

He was similarly dressed, his head shaved at the sides and spiked on top, so that his face was in full view. He too had a gaping neck and chest wound. Plus his left leg had been severed below the knee.

Between them was a metre of bloodied floor and two discarded swords.

‘Jeez,’ Chrissy said. ‘This was no virtual game. This was definitely for real.’

Their arrival had caused a small cloud of spring flies to rise in frustration at being disturbed.

‘I have my net and some fly-papers,’ Chrissy said. ‘Plus these little beauties may help us determine the time of death.’

Magnus had remained silent throughout their path through the ship, although Rhona had been conscious of his benign and thoughtful presence. She was here to analyse death. Magnus, as a professor of psychology and a criminal profiler, was focused on what the locus might tell them about any perpetrator.

‘Could they have killed one another?’ Chrissy ventured what was an obvious question.

‘Or it’s been staged to look like it,’ Rhona said. ‘Okay, we’ll begin here and tackle the computer room victim after that.’

13

Janice was already at her desk when McNab strode into the office. She looked him up and down.

‘So you’re back on the Harley then?’

McNab didn’t respond, since it was perfectly obvious by his outfit that was how he’d come into work today.

He hadn’t been on the Harley since he and Ellie had parted company. Janice was quietly aware of that, of course, so she would interpret this move as a sign he was either over Ellie or, alternatively, that he wasn’t.

McNab had the fleeting idea that he should ask her which it was, because he didn’t have a clue himself.

‘Strategy meeting on the fire victim in ten minutes,’ she informed him. ‘You look like you need a coffee.’

She was right. He’d managed to sleep through Storm Birka, but hadn’t been able to sleep after seeing Ellie climb on the back of that bike and ride off with Baldy.