“No—”

“Then I suggest you do your job which is taking care of your son. He is yours, I presume?”

“Yes. I’m sorry,” she replied roughly, drawing her son near to her. Theo handed her phone back.

“Are you trying to traumatize your son? You understand your son almost saw a dead body? Do you know what happens then?” Theo continued as the woman shook her head, “They grow up to be teenagers with emotional problems, and when life doesn’t turn out for them like they think is fair, they blame their mothers, who they guilt into spending lots of money to support them for the rest of their miserable lives. Can you afford that? If not, try taking more care of you son. Thank you.” He returned to the dead man.

“Were there any witnesses, Borders?” asked Theo.

“Ah, no sir, but we’re questioning the neighbors and bystanders now. So far no one has heard or seen anything. No one even heard him scream. Maybe he couldn’t, I don’t know. Apparently, though, his neighbors say it was his habit to pick up the newspaper every morning. According to the nurse, it was something he wanted to do for himself. Made him feel useful, I suppose. As you can see, he is . . . was disabled.”

“Yes, I think I can see,” Theo said, ignoring his comment. “Who found the body?”

Looking down at his pad, the officer replied, “A Mr. Carlin Dowridge. He was walking past the house on the way to work, saw the body, and called the police from his mobile. He says he only touched the body to check for a pulse.”

“Where is Mr. Dowridge?”

“He had to be at work by eight because he works at a local school, but I made him stay in case you wanted to talk with him, and I wrote down all his information.” He held his notebook in Theo’s face.

Theo pushed the notebook aside. “What time did the witness notice the deceased?”

“About a quarter to eight. He said he almost didn’t notice him because the bushes hid him. When he walked past the fence, he noticed the Zimmer frame. I guess that was when he saw the body. Thought the man had a heart attack or something.”

“Does he live nearby?”

“He lives on this road by but two streets down.” Borders pointed in the direction. “He gave us his address.”

“Did he enter the house?”

“No, I don’t think so. He said the man looked dead—with all the blood—and so after he rang the police, he just waited and that was all.”

Theo nodded.

“The victim’s nurse arrived only a few minutes ago. She’s pretty distraught.” Borders pointed to a woman in a nurse’s uniform that was standing with an officer a few feet away. “The liaison officer hasn’t arrived yet.”

“All right,” said Theo. “When you checked the house, did you speak to the people who let the upstairs flat?”

“I knocked on the door of the flat upstairs. No one answered. I suppose the nurse will know if that upstairs flat is let or not.”

“Listen, you have done an excellent job so far. Don’t let any officers in the house or around the property until Scene of Crime Officers arrive. If this is a murder and the killer went into the house, I don’t want any of the evidence destroyed. SOCO will be furious if we disturb the crime scene any more than we need to.” The officer nodded and left, Theo turned around searching the crowd.

Finally, the Scene of Crime Unit arrived. Men jumped out of the vans, donned suits, and stormed the house and body, taking pictures and picking up evidence. He took his mobile from his pocket and dialed his partner, Detective Inspector Dorland’s number. Straight to voicemail. Dorland better be on his way.

Chapter Five

At exactly seven minutes to nine, Sophia pulled up in front of a block of flats in the East End of London. What was she getting herself into? Any ideas Liam entertained only complicated her life. She loved sitting behind a desk analyzing and decrypting information. Why couldn’t he accept that? He was convinced she sought more than her desk job. Three weeks ago, he insisted she begin firearms training and she almost used him for target practice.

When she got out of her Merc, she looked around the car park but she couldn’t see Liam’s car anywhere. Five teenage boys stood between her and the red brick building. One looked her up and down while he took a puff of his fag and blew the smoke in her direction. She slammed her door and pressed the fob until she heard the short honks. Why didn’t she bring the Fiat? Clutching her bag tightly to her chest, she made her way forward.

She considered finding another entrance but she knew she had no choice. Only one way to enter the building without a key—through the front door. Raising her chin, she walked right up to where the boys were standing and said, “Excuse me.”

The boys separated, allowing her to pass.

“Thank you,” she said, smiled at them and made her way through. She had to pass by them so closely she could smell the strong odor of smoke wafting from their clothes.

A few steps later, she heard one of the boys reply, “Nice car.”

Liam would pay if her car was missing when she came out.

Once inside the front doors, her uneasiness didn’t subside. She didn’t need a key. Anyone could enter provided they could climb over the rubbish all over the floor. A half-eaten rat lay atop a pile of unopened mail in the corner and decomposing bin bags in the confines of the wall of graffiti covered letterboxes. Liam was taking his revenge by exposing her to the Hantavirus.

As she walked the five flights of stairs to the fifth floor, she pulled her bottle of Mace from her bag. She passed a man lying on the third landing. He opened one eye and growled at her. Sophia climbed a little faster. The overwhelming smells of cannabis and urine made her nauseated. By the time she reached door 523, she felt like vomiting. She rapped sharply on the door and a few seconds later, the door opened.

A woman she had never seen before stood in the doorway dressed in a simple gray tee and tracksuit bottoms.

“I’m looking for—” Sophia said but the woman quickly held a finger to her lips.

The woman stepped aside and motioned Sophia in with her hand. Sophia wanted confirmation that she had at the right address but the urgency of the woman’s movements caused her to silently obey. She found herself in a room smaller than a lift with a closed door ahead of her and one to her right. And the woman shut the door behind her leaving them in the dark. Once enclosed, she opened the door to Sophia’s right and the bright lights blinded her.

“I’m looking for Liam—”

Again the woman cut her off, “I know.”

“Evans,” came Foxton’s voice from the room, “you made it.”

“What the hell is going on, Liam?”

Sophia looked around the white-walled room. Tables with monitors and other recording equipment lined the walls. Whiteboards with pictures and diagrams acted as partitions and coat hangers. A standing fan wafted the smells of stale coffee, smoke, and baby powder around the room.

Then she saw it. “What is my desk doing here? When did you move my things? I’ve only been away from the office—”

“It’s okay, Evans,” he interrupted.

“It’s not bloody okay.” She ran over to her desk and looked over her computer and the contents of her drawers. “You took everything . . . in less than five hours. What’s going on here? Am I being transferred? Here? To this hell hole? Is that a blood stain on the carpet?”

“Maybe,” replied Liam, “but we can clean it, all right?” He came over and grabbed her arms. “In the meantime, why don’t you help yourself to a cup of coffee.”

“I don’t know.”‘ Sophia put her hands on her hips. Although she longed for some soothing liquid, she was worried. “I want to know why I’m being sent here. Is this punishment for the comment last week? Is this where you take people and shoot them?” She pointed to the stain on the carpet.