something?â
âDecent?â The word seemed out of place here, wrong â ridiculously so. She was almost tempted to laugh. Instead she spoke in a calm, flat voice. âYou know the rules,â she said. âI donât want anything touched. And for the record, Sergeant, I think it would take a damned sight more than a clean sheet to make this woman decent.â
He met her comments with a mocking look. âJudging her already, Inspector? And I think youâve decided itâs murder already without ...â he wagged his finger in front of her face âa shred of evidence to suggest it.â
âCome on, Mike,â she said, waving an expansive arm around the room. âThereâs everything to support it. This room feels like a ...â she paused, âa love nest, but the main character is missing. Whereâs the man â or sign of him?â
Mike chewed his lip. âItâs a drugs-related accidental death or an expensive suicide,â he said. âThe drama came from her.â He pointed his index finger straight at the dead womanâs head. âLike those film stars, maâam. She couldnât quite make it in life so she dies the way she wants it â stylish.â
Joanna raised her eyebrows. âMaybe, Mike, but letâs not make premature judgements. They account for some of the biggest cock-ups the legal system has ever known.â
Mike scowled. His neck grew a fierce red and he mumbled something about seeing whether the police surgeon had arrived yet.
In a couple of minutes he was back, shaking his head. âNo sign.â He joined her at the window. âMaâam,â he said, âNo one came in this way. Itâs a clean sill, and no one could have hooked this window on the catch. This woman died alone.â His eyes looked hard and bright. âInspector,â he said softly, âtake my advice. Donât make a tit of yourself by making this one up to a full-blown murder investigation just to justify your pips. Itâs obvious what happened. It has to be drugs. She simply dressed up and ODâd.â
âThank you, Mike,â she said. âThank you very very much. I really needed your advice. I donât know how Iâve got so far without it.â
He went red and looked around the bedroom.
Joanna felt suddenly overwhelmed by the claustrophobic atmosphere. âItâs so damned sordid, isnât it?â she muttered, but Mikeâs face was set.
âShe died on her tod in this pathetic, make-believe love nest,â he said stubbornly.
She felt her shoulders sag. âOh â I hate that word.â
âWhat â tod?â
âNo,â she said softly. âLove nest,â and she winced.
A gust of wind threw the curtain upwards and she sniffed. âPerfume,â she said. âCan you smell it? Strong perfume.â She sniffed again. âAnd no aftershave.â
But the scent brought her to a definite conclusion. âShe was waiting for a lover,â she said. âHe might not have turned up but she was waiting for a lover.â
Then, âI want the scene of crimes men to strip this room completely. Take the house apart if necessary. I want to know who the man is. Tell forensics I want every bloody cell from that bed.â
She looked at Mike thoughtfully. âAll right,â she said. âI may be wrong. Iâm prepared to admit I may be barking up the wrong tree, but I bet my bottom dollar she had sex last night and I want to know with whom.â
Mike was near the door. âSo the missing lover is âour manâ, madam.â He spoke in an appalling mockery of a cheap New York twang.
âI intend to find out. And Mike,â she glanced at the set face, âdonât call me madam, will you? My nameâs Joanna. Every now and then you forget yourself and call me that. Just do it all the time, will you please?â
Mike shook his