Authors: Elena Forbes
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Mystery & Detective
Tartaglia nodded. ‘Which means we’re looking for somebody capable of lifting a grown woman of…’ He looked down at the body in the snow, trying to gauge her size fully stretched out. ‘Medium height, slim build. Probably about eight to eight and a half stone, I’d say.’ Browne nodded in agreement. ‘Not a simple thing,’ Tartaglia continued, ‘given the fence and the uneven ground. Any thoughts on time of death?’
Browne frowned. ‘You know what I usually say—’
‘Yes. I know. When was she last seen? When was the body found?’ Like most pathologists he had come across, Browne was notoriously reluctant to estimate times of death. ‘Can’t we do a bit better than that today, Doctor?’
Browne took a deep, wheezy breath and placed her hands on her ample hips. ‘Well, as I’m in a charitable mood… It started snowing on Thursday, so we’re definitely looking at some time within the last three days.’
‘That’s a great help.’
‘Don’t interrupt. I was going to say that in my view we’re looking at less than that. She’s at ambient temperature and rigor’s only coming on now, although it’s pretty weak because of the cold. Unless she’s been kept in a freezer, which the lab will tell us, my guess is that she’s been dead for no more than a couple of days. I know you boys like chapter and verse, but that’s the best you’ll get out of me until the post mortem this evening, and that may well not tell us anything.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, with an appreciative smile, which Browne returned with a curt nod of her head. ‘Call me when you want me for the post mortem. Anything else?’
‘Yes. Speaking of verse, you’ll be interested in this.’ With another wheeze, she bent down and picked up an evidence bag, which was lying on the ground beside her case with a number of other bags and medical implements.
She thrust it at Tartaglia. ‘Someone’s got a vivid imagination.’
Through the clear plastic he saw a creased sheet of white paper with some printed words centred in the middle of the page:
Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel
Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour;
The heavy white limbs, and the cruel
Red mouth like a venomous flower;
When these are gone by with their glories,
What shall rest of thee then, what remain,
O mystic and sombre Dolores,
Our Lady of Pain?
‘It fell out of her mouth when I was examining her,’ Browne said. ‘Seems an odd place to find a piece of bad poetry, don’t you think?’
‘Yes. It’s certainly very theatrical.’
‘CSI has a lot to answer for, if you want my opinion.’
Tartaglia nodded, still looking at the sheet, trying to make sense of the strange images. Was it some sort of a joke or did it actually mean something in terms of the dead woman before him? The ringing of his phone interrupted his train of thought. He found Donovan at the other end.
‘We’ve got a result back from MISSPER,’ she said. ‘It looks like we have an ID on the victim. Her name’s Rachel Tenison. She was an art dealer and she was last seen at work in the West End on Thursday, late afternoon. Her business partner reported her missing on Friday when she failed to turn up for an important meeting at lunchtime. The age and physical description fit perfectly and she lives only a few minutes from the park.’
Thanks are due to a number of people for their expert advice, as well as apologies for my having ignored it on occasion in the interest of fiction. Any errors are entirely mine. From the Metropolitan Police, Consultant Senior Investigating Officer David Niccol and Tracy Alexander of the Forensic Directorate deserve a particular mention for their invaluable assistance and good humour. I also would like to thank Detective Chief Superintendent Andy Murphy, Detective Chief Inspector David Little and Detective Superintendent Jill McTigue for their help. Thanks go to Jeremy Silewicz, Wayne Kenward and George Andraos for enlightening me on the subjects of Polish vodka, Italian motorbikes and Wi-Fi hotspots, and to my friends and fellow crime writers at Criminal Classes: Margaret Kinsman, Gerry O’Donovan, Richard Holt, Keith Mullins, Cass Bonner, Nicola Williams, and particularly Kathryn Skoyles. Special thanks are due to my agent Sarah Lutyens, to my editor Sue Freestone, and to everyone at Quercus, as well as to Lisanne Radice for words of wisdom. Lastly, I am indebted to Stephen Georgiadis and Jeanne Scott-Forbes for their support and input along the way.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELENA FORBES is the author of the Mark Tartaglia Mystery Series. The first novel in the series,
Die With Me
, was a finalist for the Crime Writers’ Association John Creasey New Blood Dagger; and the second novel,
Our Lady of Pain
, was a
Globe and Mail
Top 10 Crime Book, and a
National Post
pick for Best Crime Fiction. She lives in London, England, with her husband and children.
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
House of Anansi Press was founded in 1967 with a mandate to publish Canadian-authored books, a mandate that continues to this day even as the list has branched out to include internationally acclaimed thinkers and writers. The press immediately gained attention for significant titles by notable writers such as Margaret Atwood, Michael Ondaatje, George Grant, and Northrop Frye. Since then, Anansi’s commitment to finding, publishing and promoting challenging, excellent writing has won it tremendous acclaim and solid staying power. Today Anansi is Canada’s pre-eminent independent press, and home to nationally and internationally bestselling and acclaimed authors such as Gil Adamson, Margaret Atwood, Ken Babstock, Peter Behrens, Rawi Hage, Misha Glenny, Jim Harrison, A. L. Kennedy, Pasha Malla, Lisa Moore, A. F. Moritz, Eric Siblin, Karen Solie, and Ronald Wright. Anansi is also proud to publish the award-winning nonfiction series The CBC Massey Lectures. In 2007, 2009, 2010, and 2011 Anansi was honoured by the Canadian Booksellers Association as “Publisher of the Year.”