‘Very amusing. Now, what about the time of death?’
‘Well, allowing for the initial rise in temperature, as I said, and then the usual decline, I estimate that death occurred sometime between five and seven hours before I took her temperature. In other words between about nine o’clock and eleven o’clock last night. I’ve also taken into account the fact that the body was moved outside and left in the open air on a cold pavement before we got to it. But in any case, a dead body doesn’t cool at a consistent rate. It can vary considerably according to the conditions. Establishing a time of death is inevitably an approximate affair – it could easily vary by half or three-quarters of an hour in either direction.’
‘Good – thank you. Now, have we finished here?’
‘Yes, I think that just about covers it.’
‘And there’s no possibility that she did it herself?’
‘Suicide, you mean? I don’t think so. It’s possible, of course – you can’t strangle yourself with your hands, because you start to lose consciousness and release your grip, but you can if you use a ligature. In this case, though, I think someone killed her.’ He pointed at the woman’s neck with a scalpel. ‘Look at those scratches – they could’ve been made by her as she struggled to pull the stocking away. And there’s also some bruising that I didn’t notice when we looked at her on the street – some on her arms, which would be consistent with her having been grabbed or held, and one on the left side of her face, which is less easy to be specific about.’
‘Could she have got that from falling? The body was found lying on the floor.’
‘Yes, she could have, but it would also be consistent with, say, being slapped. You have to bear in mind that women bruise much more easily than men, so it wouldn’t necessarily take much force to have that effect.’
‘Is it right that dead bodies don’t bruise? It’s just that she was carried out of the house after she’d been found dead. I understand a fireman was involved and it was an emergency, so it may not have been the most delicate of operations.’
‘It’s not strictly correct. It is possible to bruise a dead body, but bruises formed before death are quite different. All I can say is that in my opinion the bruising that I found took place at about the time of death. I can’t be more precise than that.’
‘I see. Thank you.’
‘And the stocking, by the way – whether it’s nylon, as DC Cradock said, or something else, I’ve noticed that it seems to stretch more than normal stockings. Silk or rayon ones, I mean. It would’ve been hard work to kill her – asphyxiation isn’t immediate, and it’s difficult to strangle someone to death if they’re fighting back. So it’s possible the murderer may have needed an accomplice, to help hold the victim down while she was strangled.’
‘Thanks, that’s helpful. Can I take the stocking, if you’ve finished with it?’
‘Of course,’ said Anderson. ‘I didn’t find anything on it to help you.’ He handed the stocking to Jago, who slipped it into a buff envelope and gave it to Cradock.
‘There are one or two other things I’d like to ask you,’ said Jago, ‘but we don’t need to be in here. Could we step outside?’
‘Yes, certainly.’
Anderson led them out of the post-mortem room and into his office.
‘What else can I help you with?’ he asked.
‘Well, it’s just that there’s something about this case that’s bothering me,’ said Jago. ‘It’s the thought of that poor girl fighting for her life – and losing. Ever since we saw her I’ve been thinking about some other cases a few years ago. Do you remember the Soho Strangler?’
‘Vaguely. There was something in the papers a few years ago, wasn’t there? It was probably when I was a junior doctor, working all hours and not having much time to read the news.’
‘Yes, there was. It was a pretty grim tale. Four women were murdered between 1935 and 1937, and as far as I know we’re no closer to working out who did it now than we were then. Most of them were what we used to call ladies of desire, and they were all found dead in their flats. The first one was known as French Fifi, but that was only her working name, of course, and she was strangled with a stocking. The others were all strangled too.’
‘And all in Soho?’ said Cradock.
‘Three of them had flats there, I believe, and the other was somewhere else in the West End, so that’s why the papers called the killer the Soho Strangler, but one of the women was originally from East Ham.’
Cradock’s face registered surprise. ‘Really? A local connection, then. So he might’ve struck a West Ham girl now? You think this Joan Lewis could’ve been on the game?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Well, a good-looking young woman, living on her own in a little flat, found strangled. It’s possible.’
‘And then there’s the furniture in her bedroom.’
‘Furniture, sir?’
‘Yes. There wasn’t much of it, was there? Nothing fancy. I’ve noticed in the past that some of these girls don’t like to make their place too comfy. They keep things a bit spartan. They say that when they’re bringing men back, if it looks too much like home it’s not good for business. Also, there’s the bed. It’s a double. Not necessarily what you’d expect a single woman to have.’
‘But if it’s a furnished flat, sir, it might just be an old bed the landlord decided to stick in it.’
‘Absolutely, there could be a very good reason for it. But two pillows? I could imagine it being annoying enough for her to have to wash and iron double sheets when she’s sleeping on her own – so why would she want to iron
