‘There’s a lot of blood under the body.’

Bill nodded grimly. ‘You’d better take a look underneath.’

Rhona lifted the right arm and rolled the body a little. The genitals had been gnawed, the penis severed by a jagged gash that ran from the left hand tip to halfway up the right side. One testicle was mashed and hanging by a thin strip of skin.

‘This must have been done after he died or the blood would be all over the place.’

‘That’s what Sissons said.’

Rhona let the body roll back down. The boy’s head nestled back into the dirty pillow.

‘Any sign of a weapon?’

Bill shook his head. ‘Maybe it wasn’t a weapon.’

‘A biter? Did Dr Sissons check for other bite marks?’

‘He muttered something about bruising on the nipples and the shoulder.’

‘I’ll take some swabs.’

‘How long do you think he’s been dead?’ Bill said.

Rhona pressed one of the deepening purple patches, and watched it slowly blanch under her finger. ‘Maybe six, seven hours. Depends on the temperature of the room.’

Bill risked a satisfied smile.

‘Matches the Doc.’

Rhona raised her eyebrows a little. She and Dr Sissons didn’t usually agree. He had a habit of disagreeing with her on points like the exact time of death. It was almost a matter of principle. Rhona had done three years’ medicine before she switched to forensic science. She liked to practise now and again.

‘How did you find him?’

‘An anonymous phone call.’

‘The murderer?’

‘A young male voice. Very frightened. Maybe another rent boy came here to meet a client?’

‘Alive, this one would have been pretty,’ Rhona said.

Bill nodded. ‘Not the usual type for this area,’ he said. ‘A bit more class, but rented all the same. I’ll leave you to it? Just shout if you need anything.’

She was nearly an hour taking samples of everything that might prove useful later on. After she’d finished with the surrounds, she concentrated on the body, under the fingernails, the hair, the mouth. Dr Sissons would take the anal and penile swabs.

The skin felt cold through her gloves, but with the blond hair flopped over the empty eyes, he might have been any teenager fast asleep. Rhona lifted the hair and studied the face, trying to imagine what the boy would have looked like in life. There were none of the tell-tale signs of poor diet and drug abuse. This one had been healthy. So how did he end up here?

‘Finished?’ Bill’s timing was immaculate. ‘Mortuary boys are here.’ He looked at her face. ‘Go home and have a hot toddy,’ he said.

A hot toddy was Bill’s answer to almost any ailment.

Rhona got up from the bed and unwrapped her hands. ‘Any idea who he is?’ she said.