‘Gown up in there and then come straight through,’ he said.

Anna tied a mask around her head, slipped her feet into overshoes and then tied the green ribbons of her protective gown. She entered the morgue, shivering. It was freezing cold.

Though recently modernized, the morgue had retained its Victorian tiles, though the swill area and the steel tables and equipment were up to date. At one table a group of assistants cut away the filthy, torn clothes from the corpse of a junkie found that morning. The floor was white tiled and slippery. A second table was empty, being swilled down with a high-powered water jet. On the third table, or ‘slab’, lay their victim, covered by a green plastic sheet.

While his assistant listed the victim’s clothes, the pathologist, Dr Vernon Henson, spoke quietly to Langton. Anna watched as a black T-shirt and pink skirt were placed in an evidence bag for the forensic lab.

‘No underwear?’ Langton said quietly.

‘No panties,’ said Henson. ‘But there’s a bra. You probably want to have a look at the way it was tied.’

Langton gestured for Anna to move beside him as Henson was removing the plastic sheet from the body. It was at this moment that a gowned-up DCI Hedges walked in, snapping on rubber gloves. He glared at Langton. ‘You still breathing down my neck, Jimmy? Or are you just here for the thrill?’

‘I’m here, Brian, because if this girl is mine, you’ll have to give her up.’

Hedges shrugged. ‘You’ll have to prove it first. Right now, this is my case. So, if you don’t mind, butt out of my way.’

Langton stepped to one side. Hedges moved closer to the table as the two pathologist’s assistants turned the body over gently to face down. The hands were held together with a white cotton sports bra. The bra had been wrapped tightly around the wrists, then tied with some considerable force. Henson stepped aside to allow photographs to be taken from every possible angle before attempting to undo the knot. It resisted his efforts.