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‘Sure.’ Mark led them through to the storage area and opened up the fridge. He wheeled out the body.

Carter stood back to observe as Willis walked around the body.

‘Good job in making her look good for her family,’ Carter said.

Mark nodded, pleased. ‘Thanks. It took me ages to cover the bruises.’

‘What was he like, the dad?’

‘He didn’t really speak much. He looked numb.’

‘Did you take casts from these bites yet?’ asked Willis.

‘Not yet. We’re waiting for the specialist to come over tomorrow and do it.’

Willis took the latex gloves now being offered to her by Mark as she examined the bite wounds on Olivia’s breast.

She pressed the wounds with her hand, to see the depth of bite. ‘These are from a dog. A dog first bites then tears.’

‘Can you take a cast from a dog?’ Carter looked at Mark for a reply.

‘Yes, I don’t see why not.’

‘Balik’s dog, maybe?’ Carter said to Willis’s back as she disposed of her gloves in the bin. ‘Or that lad with the hat had a dog. We need to find him. He should be easy to spot with half his face hanging off. What happens if he doesn’t get that fixed?’

‘It will get infected,’ Mark answered.

‘And?’

‘And it’s serious – life-threatening. Infection kills people on the streets every day,’ he added.

Harding walked in as they were finishing up and Mark was zipping the body bag back up.

‘Evening, Dr Harding,’ Carter greeted her.

She had on civvies: animal-print skirt tastefully stopping just on the knee, black boots stopping just below, a dark brown turtleneck sweater, and black-leather coat to mid-calf.

‘Must be difficult,’ Carter said, as he pointed to Olivia Grantham’s body, more to see how she reacted than with sincerity.

‘Not difficult. More strange than sad.’

‘Can we have a word?’

‘I suppose so.’ They followed Harding into her office. She opened a bottle of wine. ‘Pull up a chair. How’s the investigation going? What’s happened to the man you chased under a train, Carter?’ She passed him a glass. Willis declined.

He smiled. ‘Not quite how I remember it, Doctor. But he’s now in an induced coma. His name is Michael Hitchens, aka Toffee – he’s a former whizz kid in the City, now a homeless alcoholic. He’s our only real lead so far. He said it went wrong with Olivia – I’m not so sure it did.’

‘If he’s in an induced coma, you can forget him for at least ten days. Plus, you have no idea whether there is permanent brain damage. He may never be able to answer your questions. What do you need from me? How can I help?’

‘We need a little more background on Olivia Grantham, if we can.’ Willis took out her notebook.

‘I told you where she worked.’

Willis looked up from the notebook. ‘If we tell you what we found when we went to Miss Grantham’s flat, maybe you can think about the kind of info we are looking for,’ Willis said. She was one of the few women who liked Harding. She had no husband or boyfriend to lose. They were alike in some ways – both used to being alone. Both found it difficult to relate to and trust others.

Willis opened her notebook.

‘Not in a relationship – no couple photos. Corporate, neat – very tidy. Didn’t get to know neighbours. The caretaker said she was polite, reserved.’

‘That’s right. I would say she was quiet, thoughtful. She wasn’t a big party girl – she was private, discreet, boring really. Boringly average.’

‘Average but with a dark side?’ suggested Carter.

‘There were a few specialist sex toys in her bedroom; not sure they are average,’ Willis clarified, spoiling Carter’s fun.

Harding tried not to smirk. ‘Tell me.’

Willis read from her notebook: ‘Bondage harnesses, an assortment of weapons: whips, spikes, hot-wax dispenser, clamps, needles.’

Harding raised an eyebrow. ‘Not weapons, those are toys.’

‘Does it ring a bell with you, Doctor?’ asked Carter.

She fixed Carter with a look of contempt.

‘Your point? What am I supposed to know about it?’

‘Did you know that side of her life? The side that may have led to 22 Parade Street?’

‘Okay. I will tell you what you seem so desperate to hear but none of it goes beyond this room. None of it gets written down,’ she said, looking at Willis. Willis looked at Carter; he nodded. Willis closed her notebook. ‘I tell you two and then it’s forgotten.’

‘We can’t promise you that, Doctor,’ said Willis. ‘I may not write it down but I can’t just forget it.’

Carter held up his hand.

‘We understand. Carry on.’ Willis was about to object again. Carter stopped her. ‘If we use the information then it came from an informant who can’t be named.’ He looked at Willis. She nodded reluctantly.

Harding sighed and sat back in her seat.

‘Don’t get too excited, Carter. It isn’t that sensational. I met her through an Internet site. I didn’t set out to meet her. I met a man and he introduced me to her, one thing led to another.’ She looked at Carter and waited for a reaction.

‘Swingers?’Carter asked.

‘Crudely put, yes; I suppose so. It’s a website called Naughties.’

‘We’re looking into it,’ answered Carter. ‘We know Olivia Grantham had a subscription to it. It’s a site for casual sex – is that it?’ he added.

‘Just a way of setting out your stall, that’s all. It’s an honest approach – no ties, no hang-ups. No harm done,’ Harding said with a defensive, dismissive shrug of her shoulders.

‘Sure… Do you still have the number for the person who introduced you to Olivia?’

‘No. It was just a man. We got on well – we met a few times after that.’

‘For sex?’

Harding took a deep breath. She had fixed her eyes on Carter throughout the conversation.

‘No, for tea… what do you think?’

‘What can you tell us about her?’

‘Her life was mundane on a daily basis. So, she invented an alter-ego. That one enjoyed meeting strangers for sex.’

‘Did you see her often?’

‘Not often. She soon lost her appeal. There was a lot of bravado involved. She was quite the baby inside.’ She paused. ‘Anyway – it doesn’t do to see the same person too often – you become overfamiliar with them. They start to mean something to you beyond a pleasure vehicle.’

Harding sat back in her chair.

‘How does the site work? asked Willis.

‘You pay and you get a service like everything else. You subscribe and get to study the profiles of other subscribers. What you do then is up to you. The site is a host. It’s simple. I like sex with strangers. I like as many new partners as possible.’

‘So if you like the look of someone you email them?’ asked Willis.

‘Yes. If I like someone on the site then we usually meet that same evening.’

‘Where?’

‘A hotel usually, their house or mine perhaps. A car park, anywhere you want. Whatever floats your boat.’

‘Dangerous thing to do,’ said Carter.

She shrugged. ‘That’s the point. If I met them in a bar, they would bore me within seconds. This way it lasts an evening – at least I’ve never had a problem.’

‘What would have made Olivia go into that building on Parade Street? Do you know?’

‘Because some risks are worth taking. What is it you want me to do? What do you think I can help with?’

‘We need to see how it works first; will you show me?’ Willis asked. ‘We have two bogus profiles on there now – a man and a woman. We need to know how they look to the experienced eye. We have several hits already on the female.’

Harding took her laptop out of her bag and opened it up.