No Place to Hide. Jack Slater
which was greyish and emaciated by the early signs of decomposition, took a pair of disposable gloves from a box on the side and pulled them on.
‘She was found just over a month ago, down on the Marsh Barton industrial estate. Cause of death was recorded as exposure. You can see the bruising around her stomach – probably more clearly than you would have when she was brought in. One of the advantages of a delayed examination.’
Pete looked down at her. No matter what condition a body was in, he always thought of it as a person, not a corpse. A person who was not conscious, but, nevertheless, a human being. A victim. Someone who had had a life, hopes, dreams and all the rest. Someone who needed him to speak for them, and whose friends and loved ones needed him to find justice for the wrong that had been done to them. And it seemed like this girl had suffered several wrongs in her short life, only the last of which had left her lying on this steel table today, her death unexplained, her killer still out there on the streets, walking free.
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