‘I’m an achromat. A head injury when I was eighteen resulted in a bleed in my skull. When they operated to remove the haematoma from my brain, I was left able to see only in black and white, and shades thereof. I’m afraid you’ll have to learn to do better with your descriptions where colour’s concerned.’

‘You literally can’t see any colour at all?’

‘I remember colours, but not as abstracts. I can place colour linked to an object, a place, sometimes even an emotion. You’ll get used to it.’

‘Have you?’ he asked.

Connie paused. ‘I find it easier to read facial expressions accurately, landscapes are somehow more beautiful, sunsets are disappointing, and I may appear in clothes that clash. That about covers it.’

‘I doubt that,’ Baarda said. ‘I can’t imagine a world without colour.’

‘This isn’t a world without colour,’ she corrected softly. ‘It’s a world where I have to paint the colours in with my mind. You’d be surprised how much more you notice when you have to work this hard at it.’

‘Is that why you began to specialise in profiling, because of your perspective on the world?’ Baarda pointed his keys at the line of cars, and lights flashed back at him.

‘No,’ Connie said, walking to the passenger side. ‘I became a profiler as a matter of survival.’

Chapter Three

The cherry-red BMW sat in the sweeping driveway, abandoned. Connie had her back to it, hands on her hips, staring instead at the police officers who had arrived at the scene first.

‘Retrace your steps in your mind,’ she told them. ‘Each one of you. From when you drove in and first saw Elspeth’s vehicle, to getting out of your cars and walking towards it. Which window did you look through? Who touched which door? Think hard about what you saw.’

‘Respect, ma’am, but I don’t see how it’s going to help even if we can remember …’ one of the bolder Police Scotland officers attempted.

‘Call me ma’am again, and see how much I like it,’ Connie said.

‘It’s an expression recognising authority over here,’ Baarda intervened.

‘When an American police officer calls you ma’am, he’s either about to arrest you, or he wants you to shut the fuck up and move away. I’m guessing this situation is the latter. So listen up and think. Were all the doors properly shut when you arrived?’

There was vague nodding.

‘Because if they weren’t, it suggests a hurried exit, or that she was surprised when she was exiting the vehicle.’

‘Um, the driver’s door might have been open a wee bit,’ another officer stuttered. ‘I grabbed the handle to open it and I can’t be certain if it was properly secured.’

‘Well done, that’s the detail we’re looking for.’ Baarda’s comment covered Connie’s obvious sigh.