Baarda dropped her as close as he could get to the crime scene, then drove off to park the car where it wouldn’t disrupt traffic. The area at the back of the sports centre had been sealed off, as had the car park at one end and the road that met the pathway at a junction the other end.

A uniformed officer barred her entry as she stepped over the crime scene tape.

‘Detective Superintendent Overbeck asked me to attend,’ she announced before the constable could speak. ‘I’m the forensic psychologist profiling the Dunwoody and Fernycroft cases.’ She flashed her ID.

‘I think it’s still an essential police-personnel-only situation, ma’am. I can go and ask—’

‘I gather there’s an eyewitness,’ Connie said.

‘Um, yes, but he’s a bit drunk from what we can gather, that or drugs. If you’d just wait here.’

‘My orders came from the superintendent directly,’ Connie lied.

‘I’ll vouch for her, Sam. Let the lady in,’ a reedy voice came from behind.

‘Of course, Dr Lambert.’ The young constable spoke deferentially to the forensic pathologist.

‘Why do I not have your gravitas?’ Connie asked, following her in.

‘You’re too young, too pretty, and around here you’re also too American. If it makes you feel any better, I spent the first twenty years of my career being referred to as the wee lassie with the glasses who never smiles. Now, suit up. I assume there’s a reason for you being in attendance.’

‘Too many deaths and disappearances, too few answers, and I don’t believe in coincidences,’ Connie said, grabbing a white suit and shoe covers, pulling her hair into a band and pushing it into the hood.

‘We have that in common. This, however, is a far cry from your Angela Fernycroft murder scene. If it’s linked, it’ll be hard to see how.’

They walked together to the overturned wheelchair. The corpse was on its side, face to the ground, one arm splayed. Even in the dark on the asphalt, the pool of blood beneath the victim was unmistakable. Connie didn’t need to see in colour. She could smell it.

‘Knife wound,’ Ailsa said, kneeling next to the body. ‘Single entry as far as I can see. Straight into the heart. There wouldn’t have been this much blood normally, but the knife dislodged when the victim fell from his chair, and the blade’s exit wound allowed a substantial amount of blood to spill as the heart was stopping.’ She picked up the blade. ‘Approximately a seven-inch blade, metal handle, sharp tip. Resembles a butcher’s knife. Delivered with substantial force to get through into the heart.’

‘He has other injuries, too,’ Connie said. ‘There was a fight first. If the assailant had the knife, why not use it straight away?’