“You did what you felt was right at the time. I wouldn’t worry about that side of things. The team have already discovered some vital evidence.”

“That’s great. Can I ask what?” Mr. Wheeler asked as they walked back through the church, where their voices echoed.

“I’d rather not say at this point, Mr. Wheeler. We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions.” Sally and Jack shook the vicar’s hand and headed for the car.

“You still think he’s the culprit, Jack?”

Her partner pulled a face at her over the roof of the car before they got in. “It was my initial findings. A guy can be wrong now and again.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re still a sergeant after seven years on the force.”

“Remind me not to stick up for you in the future, if this is the thanks I get for watching your back.”

“Oops, have I upset you again?” Sally teased.

“Not in the slightest. Want me to punch the address into the sat nav?” he replied, changing the subject.

“No. I know the way.”

Ten minutes later, Sally parked the car in a space opposite Brenda’s home. “Looks like the house has been made into two flats.”

“You could be right.”

Sally rang the doorbell to the upper flat and waited for a response. Jack stepped back and watched the window above for any sign of life.

“Yep, someone’s in. The curtain just twitched. Ring it again.”

Before she could ring again, loud footsteps descended the stairs on the other side of the door.

A young woman with mascara-streaked cheeks greeted them with her eyes screwed up against the sun’s glare. “Yes?”

Sally flashed her ID for the second time that morning. “DI Sally Parker and DS Jack Blackman. Is this the residence of Brenda Fisher?”

The woman frowned and nodded. “It is. Although she’s not here right now. Dirty mare must have got off with a punter last night and didn’t come home.”

“Punter? As in a client?”

“She ain’t no prossie, love. She’s a barmaid down at the Old Fox. I meant punter as in customer. It’s not unheard of for her to get picked up and end up sharing someone’s bed for the night. Good on her, I say. If it’s all right for men to get their leg over with a stranger, then why shouldn’t we?”

Sally inhaled deeply, saddened by the woman’s words. Is that really how women think these days? “I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Brenda was found murdered this morning.”

The woman’s hand covered her gaping mouth, and she collapsed against the door with a thud.

“Are you all right? Maybe we should continue this conversation inside.”

The woman turned and walked slowly back up the stairs. Sally and Jack followed. Once they were inside the untidy, open-plan living room, the woman dropped onto the sofa, still in a daze.

Sally sat next to her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No. Why? Why Brenda?”

“We’ve yet to ascertain the reason behind the attack, Miss…?”

“It’s Darla, Darla Fisher.”

Sally cringed. “Are you Brenda’s sister?”

“Yes, at least I was.” Darla broke down in tears.

Sally and Jack glanced at each other and shook their heads. It was never easy telling a person that a loved one had passed over, let alone been murdered. Sally waited for a few minutes before she placed a hand over the woman’s and asked if she was okay.

“Not really. Would you be? What happened?”

“It’s difficult to tell right now. We were called out to Acle Church this morning, to the crime scene, and discovered your sister’s body.”

“In a church?” Darla frowned.

“Actually, she was found outside, in the graveyard.”

“Shit! How did she die?”

Sally swallowed hard. “I’m not going to lie to you. Her naked body was found propped up against a gravestone.”

Darla stared at her open-mouthed for a few seconds, then she found her voice again. “Was she raped?”

Sally nodded. “I’m sorry. There’s just no other way to say it. If it’s any consolation, the suspect left valuable DNA at the scene. We’re hopeful that will lead to his capture soon.”

“He did? Then why aren’t you out there, going after him? Sorry, dumb question.”

“Not at all. A logical one under the circumstances. We have to inform the next of kin first before we can begin our investigation.”

“I see. Do you have a suspect in mind? Any witnesses?”

Sally shook her head. “Not yet. Can I ask when you last saw your sister?”

“Just before her shift last night. I came home from the office at five thirty. We passed on the stairs, as she had to get to work before her shift started at six.”

“Does your sister have a boyfriend?”

“No. She’s not the type to settle down with one person. Umm… that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Given Sally’s own experiences with men, she totally understood why women wouldn’t want to start a permanent relationship with a man in today’s world.

“She was happy not being tied down. Her former boyfriend loved nothing more than beating seven bells of shit out of her. He broke her arm the last time they were together. I persuaded her to leave him. We bought this place together so we could look after each other. I’ve had my fair share of shitty relationships, too.”

Me, three! “This former boyfriend, has he pestered your sister since? Hounded her to get back with him, perhaps?”

“No. He left the country when I threatened to dob him in to your lot.”

“Where’s he living now?” Sally asked.

“The last I heard, in Spain.”

“We’ll need his name. We can check if he’s returned to the country without your knowledge. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened.”

“It’s Laurence… not sure on his surname. I think it’s Kronan.”

“That doesn’t sound like an English name. What nationality is he?”

“I think he’s Croatian. Although, I can’t be totally sure on that. I hope it helps.” Darla shrugged apologetically.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to track him down. Can you tell me roughly when he left the UK?”

“Let me think… I suppose about three months ago. Yes, around Christmas time.”

“That should help us a lot. Has he been in touch since? By letter, text, or a phone call?”

Darla shook her head. “Not that I know of. Brenda would have told me. I still can’t believe I’ll never see her again.”

“Ah, about that… we’ll need someone to formally identify your sister’s body.”

“Oh, crap. Really?” Tears dripped down her cheeks again. “I’m not sure I can see her again, not if she’s dead.”

Sally squeezed Darla’s hand. “I understand. What about another family member? Your parents, perhaps?”

“No. They’re both dead. They died a few years back in a car accident. There was only Brenda and me left.”

“I’m so sorry. Then the task falls to you, I’m afraid. I can lend my support by attending the viewing with you, if that will help.”

Darla wiped her tears with her sleeve and smiled weakly. “Would you?”

“Of course. I’ll make the arrangements and get back to you later, if you like. Although there will have to be a post-mortem first.”

“Oh no. Why? Does she have to be cut open? You said there was DNA left at the scene. Won’t that be enough to convict the culprit, without having to cut her open?”

“It’s the law. I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, but look at it this way: the more evidence we can find to throw at the suspect, the more chance we have of putting him away for years. So many suspects get off through lack of evidence these days.”

Darla sighed. “Okay, I get it. When will the post-mortem be done?”

“Soon. I’ll check and get back to you this afternoon, I promise. One last question before we go. Apart from the ex-boyfriend, is there anyone who has been pestering your sister recently? Any of the staff members at the pub or a possible customer maybe?”

Darla thought the question over before replying, “Not that I can think of. No.”

Sally patted the woman’s hand and stood up. “Okay. We’ll check at the pub to make sure, and I’ll ring you later on this afternoon if you give me your mobile number.”