everything, and went out of his way to please his superiors – apart from him of course.
‘Have forensics arrived at any conclusions yet?’
‘Doctor Russell thinks she died at around 3am. He wants to carry out more tests when the body reaches the morgue. Shall I switch this off again?’ She pointed towards the general area where the vibrator was buzzing away on a fruitless mission.
‘Yes please – at the mains.’ She obviously felt the same way as he did about the poor woman. He forced himself to look away as she crouched down to reach for the plug, but found her image in other mirrors around the room. He looked up at the mirror in the ceiling. Was it two way? Were any of the others two way? Were there any hidden cameras? He’d come across similar set-ups during his time with the Met. He would say the dead woman was a high class prostitute, but that did not make her death any the less tragic.
The buzzing stopped, creating a silence which prompted two members of the forensics team, to glance towards the body. He moved around the bed, studying it closely. The ankles were tied together with the rope looped around the heels of black stilettos, back through the ankle binding, under the wrists, around the face to pull the gag into her mouth, then knotted back on her wrists. The rope was piano wire tight. There was also rope between her legs, around her waist and criss-crossed between her breasts. It was difficult to tell if all this had been achieved with one length of rope. He noted some bruising around her throat and what looked like flaking skin over her cheek and nose. He looked up and met Jennie’s eyes, viewing the body from the other side of what was a very wide bed.
‘Is this what I think it is?’
‘Doctor Russell thought it could be dried semen. He lifted a sample off for analysis.
‘Did he say when he expected to get a result?’
‘Could be Friday, Sir. ’
‘Ha, that sounds like the ever cautious Doctor Russell; we’ll probably get a result by Wednesday.’ He stepped back from the bed and surveyed the room. ‘I’m pretty sure this was consensual, at least up to the point where she died. It looks as if she was in that line of business. I’ve seen all I need here, but I’d like to see the rest of the place. Shall we put the sheet back on?’
Jennie nodded, relieved to cover the naked body. They draped the sheet respectfully over the lifeless Lucinda Lovebrace.
‘Will they take her away like this?’
‘You mean, tied up?’
‘Yes, Jennie. I want a stage by stage photographic record when they undo the rope, I don’t care if it’s done here or in the morgue, but we must have it.’
‘I’ll tell them right away sir.’
‘And Jennie.’ She turned back towards him. He smiled. ‘You did the right thing. I think this case is as far from being solved. I‘ll just take a look around, then we’ll have a chat with the concierge.’
Charlie Bell had been doing his best to avoid residents, determined to find out what had happened, so when the service lift stopped on the fourth floor, he knew he had to be quick if he was to avoid an inquisition from Major and Mrs Dodd. He had his hand written sign to say the lift would be out of order until further notice fixed onto a traffic cone. When the lift doors opened, all he had to do was slide it out – but they were there, waiting to pounce.
‘Ah, Charlie, can you tell us what’s going on?’
He shoved the cone out with his foot, pushed the button for the third floor and pointed at the other three cones, carrying the same message, in the lift.
‘Sorry, must get these out to stop anyone trying to use the lift. I’ll tell you all about it later.’
In the couple of seconds it took for the lift doors to start to close, Mrs Dodd, who was by far the more nimble of the two, darted forward and wedged a hefty brogue against a door. Major Dodd followed at a more sedate pace, leant against it and spoke in a way which usually wheedled information out of anyone.
‘Come on Charlie. What’s happening? Why the police?’
‘And the ambulance?’ Mrs Dodd had locked onto him with her ice blue eyes. There was no getting away from that gaze. Someone had once told him that during WW2 she interrogated German prisoners. He suddenly, felt sorry for the Germans, if he didn’t let them have something, she would never let him get away.
‘There has been an unexplained death. Please don’t ask me to say more. I’ve been ordered by the police not to say anything.’
‘But it’s us Charlie. You know we wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble.’
Mrs Dodds wrinkled her eyes in a superficial smile. ‘We think of you more as a friend than concierge and would hate to get you into any sort of trouble. So you don’t have to say anything, simple nod if we are right.’
Charlie nodded to show that he understood.
Mrs Dodd continued. ‘Does it concern the woman on the fifth floor?’
Charlie nodded.
‘Murder was it Charlie?’
Charlie looked at the major and shrugged. Mrs Dodd repeated the wrinkled smile. ‘We heard this lift in the early hours. If the police want to talk to us we will be happy to help.’
‘Did you hear anything else?’
Major Dodd stepped back from the lift. ‘We’re happy to talk to the police at any time Charlie. You can tell them so if you wish.’
‘I’ll do that. They want to talk to me again, that’s why I’m in a hurry.’
‘Are they taking the body out in this lift?’
Mrs Dodd held his gaze, waiting for his nod before taking her foot away from the door, leaving it free to close.
Charlie managed to push the cones out on the other floors without getting buttonholed by any one else. Detective Inspector Cardhew and Detective Constable Leadbetter were waiting by the lift on the ground floor. He placed the last of the cones with the out of order message in front of the doors, explaining that the he had been asked to make sure the service lift would be available to bring the body down. He showed them the rear entrance to the building, before taking them into his ground floor flat, where his wife, Sandra made them a cup of coffee. Charlie told all he knew about Miss Lovebrace, which was not very much. If she was a high class prostitute, it was none of his business. If there had been any complaints, he would have passed them on to the Residents Association but there had not been any. She did have quite a few regular visitors, but he assumed they were business associates; she was a successful business woman with lots of different interests. No, he knew nothing of her family. The person she seemed closest to was Julie Bunford, who he had introduced to her a couple of years ago when she was looking for a cleaner. About six months ago they started a cleaning company called ProClean. From what he could gather, it was quite successful and Miss Lovebrace wanted her to become involved in the running of her other companies, which didn’t really surprise him because Julie Bunford was a good worker and not really a cleaner; she had worked for a Bank at one time. He and Sandra always went out on Friday evenings, they were back around 11pm and went to bed shortly afterwards. They did not hear anything, although Major and Mrs Dodds, in apartment 15, on the fourth floor, reckon they heard the service lift working in the early hours.
Cardhew drained the last inch of cold coffee from his cup and handed it to Sandra Bell. ‘Thank you Mrs Bell, that was most welcome. So, Charlie, who would use the service lift to the penthouse?
Charlie Bell thought for a moment. ‘The gardener uses it to get to the roof garden, but he only has the code to get into the garden, not the penthouse. Julie Bunford always used it. In fact she still does, even though she’s a business partner.’
‘Were you responsible for giving her the code?’
‘No, Miss Lovebrace would have done that.’
‘So she could have given it to anyone else she trusted?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Do you know the code?’
‘Yes, I have the door codes for all the apartments.’
‘Where are they kept?’
‘In the safe in my office.’
‘Which is where?’
‘Behind my desk in the lobby; it’s little more than broom cupboard really.’
