Read Bad Blood for Free Online Page B

inside either.’
    Savage rapped on the glass and waited. Nothing. She tried again, and when a third lot of knocks failed to produce an answer she pulled out the set of keys.
    â€˜Let’s try these, shall we?’
    She snapped on a pair of latex gloves before inserting the key into the lock.
    The door opened into a hallway, a sheet of pale blue lino leading towards the rear of the property, the edges torn and cracked. Three piles of dog shit lay near to a doorway to the right where a pool of yellow liquid flowed across the lino and off the edge. The urine had seeped into the pine floorboards, turning the wood dark.
    â€˜Police, Mr Owers,’ Savage said. ‘We’d like a word.’
    Nothing.
    Then they heard a yapping and a noise halfway between a purr and a growl.
    â€˜You don’t like dogs, do you, ma’am?’ Calter said, moving past Savage and into the flat. ‘Better let me deal with this.’
    At that moment something the size of a large cat came shooting at them from the rear of the hallway. A pink tongue lolled from jaws surrounded by a black face, atop a fat and stocky tan body. The thing stopped a couple of metres away and horrid little round eyes stared at Savage for a moment before she stepped aside to let the dog run through the front door. The animal scampered by, splashing through the flood and up the stairs to the street.
    â€˜Pug, ma’am. Poor little thing. Must have been shut in here all the time. Lovely breed of—’ Calter stopped as Savage glared at her. ‘Anyway, now we know about the dog shit.’
    Thank you, Jane.’ Savage said, closing the door. ‘Let’s stop the bloody creature getting back inside at least.’
    â€˜Three piles of poop. I’d say that means the dog has been shut in here for a while.’
    â€˜Feel free to investigate further. Personally I am going to leave that to John Layton. I am sure he is an expert in canine faecal deposits.’
    Savage negotiated a way between the piles of poo and the pool of urine and went into the room to the right, a living room with thin, moth-eaten curtains and a raffia rug. One corner of the rug had been chewed and bits of palm leaf lay scattered around. A television stood in the corner on a triangular pine video cabinet which was trying its best to look antique. Judging from the age of the television it wasn’t far off. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a sofa covered with a tatty blanket. A Freemans clothing catalogue lay open on the sofa, faces of little girls smiling, happy. The coloured tab at the top of the page said ‘Ages 5-7’.
    â€˜Bloody pervert,’ Calter said, coming into the room and wrinkling her nose as she peered at the glossy pictures. ‘Still up to his games, I reckon. So much for that downgrade to MAPPA level one.’
    â€˜Have a look through those, would you?’ Savage pointed at the row of DVDs stacked on a rack beside the TV and DVD player. She left Calter and went down the hallway. At the rear of the property, a doorway to the right had a ribboned fly curtain and no door. Behind the curtain a minuscule kitchenette contained a grubby and dangerous-looking gas cooker and a little fridge sitting on a stained worktop. To the left was the bedroom. A single duvet, out of place on the double mattress lying on the floor, wore a Barbie cover. Savage’s stomach churned; until a few years ago her own daughter had had exactly the same one. In the centre of the duvet a small depression had been formed right on Barbie’s impossibly thin waist and a few black and tan hairs were visible on the cotton.
    To one side of the bed a tea chest appeared to function as a linen bin and was full to the brim with jogging bottoms, jeans, shirts and underwear. The stench from the unwashed clothes invaded Savage’s nostrils and she tried to breathe through her mouth, but that just meant she gagged on the smell instead.
    Apart from