Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4), Helen Harper [free ereaders .txt] 📗

shrugged. ‘I worked with the Met for a while when I was younger. The supes were more civilised, law-abiding and helpful than a lot of people I came across.’ He gave me a brief smile, and I had the feeling that he was including me in that statement.

I smiled back, then hastily pulled on my own disposable suit. Unfortunately, if Chloe was right about the bear she’d seen, we might be about to disprove Boateng’s notion.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It didn’t take long to establish that whoever or whatever had tried to attack Chloe was long gone. Apart from ourselves, the only movement in the cottage garden came from the buzzing insects and Vel, whose beady corvid eyes watched us with interest.

I did my best to ignore the crow and followed Boateng to the back of the building, taking care not to tread on anything that might be evidence. This time there were no obvious footprints, but that didn’t mean there weren’t clues for the forensic team to find.

I thought again about the possibility that there were two killers rather than one. What if one was a supe in the form of a bear and one was human?

‘So,’ Boateng said, ‘according to Chloe, she entered through the gate. She tried the door but the padlock barred her way, so she came round here looking for a window.’

I spotted the shards of green glass scattered on the ground, half hidden by the overgrown weeds. They looked as if they’d come from an old beer bottle, perhaps several of them. I pointed them out to Boateng and he nodded.

‘Her story is holding up so far.’ He stopped walking and angled his head towards the cottage roof. ‘Look,’ he said grimly.

I followed his gaze. Clinging to the edge of one of the roof tiles was a small scrap of pink fabric that looked to be the same material as Chloe’s T-shirt. We exchanged glances.

‘We’ll comb this entire area,’ Larry said, ‘but there’s a lot of rubbish that’s been left by other visitors. It might take us a while to establish if there’s any trace of our killer. There’s only a few more hours of daylight, but we’ll get as much done today as we can.’

‘Do you want the interior of the cottage checked as well?’ Barry enquired.

‘We need to be thorough. We don’t have many leads and this is currently a live scene.’ Boateng glanced at me. ‘Interesting that the killer came here in particular.’

‘Uh huh.’ I shuffled my feet. ‘My friend Laura was inside the cottage earlier. She must have attached the new padlock and bolt to the front door. I’ll give her a call and see if she left a spare key anywhere.’

‘Okay. We’ll need her fingerprints and hair samples, so we can discount her as well as you.’

I licked my lips. ‘She works in pathology, and she was taking samples from inside the cottage for further study. I’m sure she was careful, sir.’

‘I should ask why she was taking samples,’ Boateng said. ‘But to be honest, I’d rather not know.’

I shrugged awkwardly and moved away while I made the call. The phone rang several times before Laura answered. She sounded anxious. ‘What’s happened, Emma? You’ve not died again, have you?’

‘Nope. I’ve been alive for almost a whole forty-eight hours. Go me.’

‘That’s not funny.’

No, it wasn’t – but Laura usually had more of a breezy sense of humour about these things. ‘I won’t keep you long,’ I said hastily. ‘I’m sure you’ve got your hands full in Maidstone with the post-mortem. I just wanted to ask if you left a spare key to the cottage anywhere.’

‘Pardon?’

I watched Barry and Larry directing the other officers and forensic assistants. They might look like a crime-busting duo from a 1980s’ cop show but they certainly knew what they were doing.

‘Did you leave a key for the new lock and bolt you put on the door to my parents’ cottage?’

There was a beat of silence. ‘I didn’t have anything to do with a new lock. I probably could have arranged one if I’d had time. I’m sorry, Emma, it wasn’t me.’

I took a step backwards and looked at the cottage door. The new padlock glinted in the late-afternoon sun. If Laura hadn’t put the lock on then who had? A tremor of trepidation flickered in the pit of my stomach.

‘We don’t have a key for that lock,’ I called over to Boateng.

‘We’ll use bolt cutters,’ he called back.

I swallowed and nodded. One of the officers rummaged around in a bag and pulled out a hefty-looking tool.

‘Listen, Emma,’ Laura said. ‘I’ve almost finished the post-mortem here. There are a few things you should know.’ She didn’t sound upbeat. Far from it.

‘Go on.’

‘We’ve been comparing Julie Mackintosh’s wounds to those on Patrick Lacey. They’re virtually identical – they were definitely made by the same attacker.’

That was hardly a surprise. It did make the theory of two killers seem less likely, however, so that was something to be thankful about. I nodded, distracted by the officer striding over to the cottage door with the bolt cutter in his hand.

‘Their flesh and skin was ripped in the same manner, and they have the same curious lack of blood. Initially some sort of serrated knife was suspected, but I’ve examined both bodies and I’m convinced that neither victim was attacked with a weapon.’ She paused. ‘Unless you count teeth as a weapon. The wounds are remarkably similar to those made by wild animals.’

‘You’re saying that they were probably killed by a supe,’ I said. My voice was flat but, given what Chloe had described, Laura’s findings weren’t a revelation. Not now.

‘It looks that way. I’ve found traces of saliva. I’m running DNA testing now and I’ve requested the results be fast tracked but you know what it’s like. It could be a whole day before we get any results.’

Yeah, I knew. This wasn’t Hollywood. No matter how much pressure was put on laboratories, it wasn’t easy to get answers quickly.

‘There’s more,’ Laura