The house was like a jigsaw with a few pieces
missing.
Fittings where blood had splashed, items that
showed damage of any sort, all had been
carefully removed for detailed study in the lab.The rooms looked bare, having lost half
of their furniture.In the lounge, one doorway was framed in
bare plaster, its doorposts missing.
Although he’d never been in one, McVicar
thought that the master bedroom was decorated in
the style of a Paris brothel: dark red wallpaper
and heavy drapes.
It too had suffered some losses.McVicar
found himself looking up at a circular socket in
the ceiling.There
was another in the floor directly underneath it.
Sgt Parker saw his mystified look.“A dancer’s pole,” he said.
“It’s in the lab now”.
McVicar’s eyes moved back to the ceiling.
Now they were looking at two hooks spaced about
3 feet apart.“A trapeze,” said Parker.“That’s in the lab too.I don’t know what they’ve found on it
- but you wouldn’t want it in your
sandwiches.”
