21

Bronte lay crumpled in Nick’s arms, oblivious to Forensic Services milling around the house, searching for clues.

‘Oh my God, who would do this? Why Sarah?! I can’t believe it. It’s not possible …’ Verity was speaking in hushed tones to Inspector Kumar and filling her in with all the details of the last twenty-four hours. ‘It must have something to do with the Bunting Map, Inspector,’ she argued. ‘Surely you can see the connection.’

‘There is a possibility this is connected to the recent events at Mister Lawrance’s gallery and at your father’s office in Oxford,’ Kumar allowed. ‘However, we have very little evidence at present. As the Senior Investigating Officer at this crime scene, I work closely with ERU and SERIS, who are our forensic specialists. They are responsible for fingerprint and blood analysis, recovery of fibres from bodies, DNA sampling and even crime scene reconstruction. You can be confident that, if the murderer has left anything behind, they will find it.’

Later, Nick joined them at the kitchen table. ‘She’s taken a sedative and is sleeping,’ he said. ‘It will knock her out for a couple of hours. I can’t believe it either. What a nightmare!’

Verity reached across and squeezed Nick’s hand.

‘I can’t be certain,’ responded the inspector, ‘but in my opinion she was strangled to death. It doesn’t look like an argument with a friend, family member or lover that went wrong, and it doesn’t have any of the hallmarks of your typical psychopath or common garden burglar.’ Here, Inspector Kumar paused, as if knowing her next words would be devastating. ‘I think this is the work of a professional!’

Nick and Verity stared dumbfounded at her. It was Nick who broke the silence. ‘A professional what? Killer? Come on, Inspector, Sarah Gibson is … was … nineteen years old. She had few friends and fewer connections in this country. She had so recently arrived from Australia she hadn’t even had time to make any enemies … even if she was the type to! It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘I agree, Mr Lawrance,’ said Kumar sympathetically. ‘At this point it makes no sense, however, give us some time and we will find the killer. I can assure you of that.’

Verity chimed in. ‘Nick, I’ve filled the inspector in with the rough gist of what’s been happening lately, but you’ll need to give her more of the details when you are ready.’

‘Actually,’ Kumar said, ‘I would like the three of you to come down to the station with me when Ms Gibson wakes up. I need to take a full statement of the events leading up to tonight and get us out of the forensics’ hair.’

‘I’ve already gone over most of it with one of your colleagues,’ said Nick, as he pulled Jaeger’s card from his pocket and handed it to the inspector. ‘Maybe you should speak with him and see where he is at with his investigations.’

‘But Nick,’ said Verity, ‘if the intruder expected the house to be empty and was surprised by Sarah being here, why wouldn’t he just leave? I can’t believe the purpose of his visit was simply to kill for no apparent reason.’

‘Good point,’ agreed Nick, while Inspector Kumar dialled Jaeger’s number. ‘Unless he was specifically targeting Bronte for some obscure reason, maybe he mistook Sarah for Bronte. They do look similar.’

‘This number is disconnected. I’ll phone the Yard to find him. If you don’t mind, I’ll hold onto this card.’ She dialled another number.

A few minutes later, after thanking the person on the other end of the phone, she turned to Verity and Nick. Her face was grim. She said in a more official tone, ‘It seems there is no such person as Conrad Jaeger at Scotland Yard. In fact, there is no one of that name in any of the police departments in the UK!’