Free Kill Me Again by Rachel Abbott

out of the question, and Tom stared blindly at the pile of papers in front of him. There was no point even pretending to work – the numbers on the spreadsheet just blurred into one incomprehensible mass. He wanted to speak to Becky and Jumbo, but he knew he had to wait for them to come to him.
    He had asked to be kept up to date and had been told that the body was being moved. They had collected what evidence they could, but would of course continue to search once the body had gone from the scene. He shuddered at the thought of Leo being referred to as ‘the body’ and hated even more the concept of her being bundled into a body bag. Most of the time bodies were treated with respect, but there was the odd guy who thought that as the person was dead, there was no need to consider their dignity. Tom didn’t agree. At the end of their lives, more than ever, people should be treated with consideration and thoughtfulness.
    He wasn’t going to be allowed near Leo’s body in case he contaminated her with his own DNA – which would cause catastrophic complications for the case. Normally the PM was completed before identification for that very reason – any traces on the body from the smallest fragment of skin to a stray hair could convict a murderer. If people other than the investigating team came into contact with the body, it brought into question the validity of the findings. He wanted to see her though – he needed to be sure.
    The wait seemed interminable, and there was nobody he could talk to. He hoped and prayed that Max wouldn’t call him for an update.
    Over an hour later there was a knock on his door, which for once he had closed. Becky poked her head into the room.
    ‘Is it okay if I come in, Tom, or would you rather I left you on your own?’ Her voice was shaking.
    ‘No, no. Please, Becky, tell me what happened, or what you think happened, and why you’re sure it’s Leo. Come in. Sit down.’
    Becky was biting her lip. Much as he wanted to fire questions at her, he needed to give her a moment. If she lost control, it would take him longer to get the facts.
    ‘I’m so sorry, Tom. But I couldn’t risk you turning up and seeing her like that.’
    Her words made the weight in his chest feel even heavier.
    ‘How bad was it? I need to know.’ He stared at Becky and forced the words out. ‘Had she been raped?’
    Becky spoke softly, her words echoing in Tom’s head as he visualised the scene that Becky described.
    ‘We don’t know. She was propped against the tunnel wall, fully clothed, but Jumbo is certain she wasn’t killed there. She was wearing boots with heels and there was no mud on them – no sign that she had walked through that tunnel at all. Until they remove her clothes they’re not going to know for sure if she was sexually assaulted. My guess is that it’s unlikely. If she had been stripped and dressed again when he’d finished, he did a good job of it. Too good, really. Everything was buttoned correctly. She looked too tidy, if you know what I mean.’
    Tom knew exactly what she meant. He had seen several bodies that had been redressed after a sexual assault, and they all looked wrong somehow, as if their clothes belonged to somebody else. He felt himself shudder. The only thing he could do was focus as if this were just another body.
    ‘Did we manage to get a forensic pathologist quickly enough?’ For a murder, they couldn’t bring in any old pathologist. He or she had to be accredited by the Home Office, and sometimes that meant quite a wait, occasionally with the body remaining in situ.
    ‘Yes, it’s James Adams, and we know he’s good and incredibly thorough. He’ll work out what happened to her, Tom – and we’ll catch him, whoever did this to her.’
    ‘How do you think she died?’
    Step by step, Becky ran through the morning’s events, going over each point as often as Tom wanted her to. Philippa had opted to go to the post-mortem, and one of Becky’s sergeants was