Three
DI Frank Lyle
When Desai and I got back to the incident room from Hancock's office we found a young WPC waiting for us.
"This is WPC Mason," DC Slade informed us.
I smiled. Mason was a plain yet striking woman about five foot five with curly auburn hair and grey eyes, She was slender bordering on stick thin but then Hancock had said she'd been on sick leave. She looked up at me and smiled. Desai winked at me so I suspected teasing as he probably thought she had a crush on me. Desai himself was passably handsome with rich tawny skin and deep brown almost black eyes. Whereas I was tall and fair with blue eyes but, although I knew I was considered good-looking (and even believed it on good days) I never over-egged success with women, after all I had been unable to keep my wife and most of my communication with Sarah was through solicitors these days.
"Superintendent Hancock said you needed a family liaison officer, Inspector Lyle sir," she said.
"That's right, DS Desai and I are on our way to visit her parents now so if you're ready?"
"I'm ready," she said.
"Good," I said, "Let's go,"
We went outside the station and got into my car, a dark navy Vauxhall Cavalier. We drove into the suburbs. Desai sat in the front seat and WPC Mason in the back.
"How old was the victim, Sir?" she asked.
"Rachael Lewis was seventeen," Desai replied.
"Was she sexually assaulted?"
"Dr Martin says she was raped," I replied.
"Well I suppose killing her makes a change from the highly usual and unoriginal so as to be boring defence that she asked for it "she asked.
"I quite agree," Desai replied. I declined to venture an opinion; in my view women should be able to walk down the main high street naked without it meaning she was asking to be raped and I knew that view was considered rather unorthodox in polite company or among colleagues.
About ten minutes later we pulled up outside a house in Trevelyan Avenue. Not exactly leafy exclusive suburbia but not ten single mums per square block council property either.
WPC Mason followed us up the pathway, which was paved with dandelions pushing their way up between the cracks. The front door was painted a fading blue.
"Desai knocked on the door.
After about three minutes we heard footsteps and a woman opened the door a crack.
"Yes," she enquired.
"Madam, I'm Detective Sergeant Desai and these are DI Lyle and WPC Mason," Desai said, "May we come in for a moment please?"
The woman's face was ashen and I could see that she had been crying recently because her eyes were red and ringed with dark circles.
"Please tell me you've found her," her voice was strained and it galled me to hear that note of hope that within moments we would have to dash, "Please tell me you've found Rachael,"
"May we come in, Madam?" Desai repeated.
"Yes of course," she opened the door to allow us access.
We stepped inside and she led us to the sitting room, which was clean and tidy. She told us to sit down and offered us tea, which we declined.
"Is your husband at home?" Desai asked.
