Free Silent Scream by Lynda La Plante

we get something from this afternoon. Has the post-mortem report come in yet?’
    ‘Nope, and forensic are dragging their heels. Maybe we should go over there . . .’
    ‘I thought you were going this morning?’
    Simon walked to her office door. ‘I wanted to finish up at the film set before they all disappeared.’
    ‘I’ll get a sandwich and then we can go to forensic together.’
    ‘OK by me. Say in an hour?’
    Anna agreed and he shut her door. She still felt annoyed by him.
    After selecting the cuttings she wanted to work on, she went up to the canteen and ordered a toasted cheese sandwich and fruit to take back to her office. She had no sooner sat down when Mathews rang to have a word with her. She decided not to take her sandwich in with her even though she was feeling really hungry.
    Mathews was sitting behind his desk cleaning his nails. He looked up when she entered.
    ‘This is bloody going nowhere. I’m getting a lot of flak from the powers that be that want a result to feed to the press, but as far as I can see, we’ve got fuck all.’
    ‘It’s looking that way,’ Anna agreed.
    ‘We’ve got to come up with something soon. We still don’t have a motive, a suspect or the weapon.’
    ‘I’m going over to Lambeth to the pathologist and then onto forensics – maybe they’ll have something for us.’
    Mathews sighed and put away his nail scissors in a small leather case.
    ‘Has Simon got anything for us?’ he asked.
    ‘He’s only just back from the film unit. I’ll give the designer who worked on Amanda’s house a call and see if he can give us anything, or maybe know if anything is missing from the property.’
    ‘Right, well, we certainly need something. And fast.’
    Anna picked up her office phone to check if Joan had arranged the meetings with the three actors. She was not amused when Joan offered to tag along.
    ‘Just sort out the meetings, please. Have we anything in from the victim’s laptop?’
    ‘Yes, they’re sending over details as we speak. Apparently they found a lot of poetry.’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘That’s what they said. Seems the victim wrote poetry, files of it. Anyway, as soon as it’s here I’ll get it copied for you.’
    Gowned up, Anna and Simon entered the mortuary where the pathologist Dr Ada De Silva, a petite Iranian woman, was waiting. Amanda’s body was draped in green sheeting and De Silva was standing by the light boxes with a clipboard. She motioned for them to join her.
    ‘I’m sorry that this has taken longer than usual, but I’m still waiting on the blood tests. The victim received multiple stabs. Many of the wounds are superficial, apart from the one to the right breast. This one penetrated her heart and resulted in her death. The blade was double-sided and about fourteen centimetres long. As you can see, the wound to her breast has a linear bruise to either side of it. This was probably caused by the hilt guard of the weapon, which suggests a Commando-style knife.’ De Silva showed the heavy bruising on Amanda’s thighs. ‘Because of the bruising, both externally and internally, it’s possible that the victim had been raped. The forensic lab is testing for semen and condom lubricants.’
    De Silva turned to look at the shrouded body, then back to the blow-up pictures.
    ‘Your victim had breast implants, and the right one was punctured by the knife. She was very underweight. Her height was almost five feet seven and a half, but she weighed only six stone and five pounds. I would say she had suffered from anorexia for some time, since her skin tone is very poor and dry. Further internal examination showed that she had undergone a total hysterectomy. Her fallopian tubes were removed, which could have occurred after a botched abortion. Whoever had done the operation performed amateur work. The poor child must have been in agony and for a considerable time.’ The pathologist sighed, shaking her head.
    Crossing to the body, she lifted a corner of