Guilty as Sin Read Online Free

flesh and remnants of what was once an eyeball. The hair was non-existent; most of the scalp had burnt through to sheer white bone.
    “Looks like an acid job, guv.”
    “Hydrochloric.”
    “You can tell?”
    “Yeah, it's a hobby of mine, you great berk. Of course you can tell. I've seen plenty of bodies in my time, Constable.”
    “Do you reckon it might be our missing girl?”
    “How the fuck do I know? I didn't think of commissioning an e-fit of what she might look like with half her face melted off with hydrochloric acid. Hopefully the pathologist won't be long and he'll be able to tell us for sure. Who found it?”
    “The owner of the business, a Mr Donald Radley.”
    “Any sign of forced entry?”
    “He says not.”
    “And who else could have had a key?”
    “Any of the senior staff, conceivably. There's a front door and an alarm system, and only one door at the back. That's got a commercial recycling bin jammed up against it and that hasn't been moved in a while.”
    “Nice little fire hazard.”
    Janet Grey, the pathologist entered the room, her high heels clip-clopping on the stone floor of the warehouse. “DCI Culverhouse. Always a pleasure.”
    “Janet,” Culverhouse replied, non-committally.
    “How long's it been here?”
    “No idea. The owner says it definitely wasn't here last night.”
    “He's sure about that?”
    “I think it's safe to say he'd probably notice, Janet.”
    “Only asking. You'd be surprised what the eye misses.”
    “Quite possibly so, but I don't imagine his bleedin' nose would've missed it.”
    Janet Grey was, by now, far more interested in the body than in conversation with Culverhouse. “Mmm, interesting. Blunt trauma to the front of the face and ligature marks around the neck – probably from a pair of hands, I'd say.”
    “Beaten up, strangled and acid bathed? Bit extreme, isn't it?”
    “Depends how badly the killer wanted to get rid of him.”
    “Him? You mean this isn't our missing girl?”
    “Definitely not. Look at the hips – far narrower than any woman I've ever known. The shape of the skull gives it away, too. I can't say for sure until I get it into the lab and on the table, but I'm willing to bet there's not a uterus in there, either.”
    “So who's this then?”
    “That's not for me to say, but it's not your missing girl.”
     

13
     
     
    The waiting room at the counselling clinic was brightly-lit but bitterly cold. A smell of antiseptic hung in the air; a smell only usually associated with hospitals and places meant to be kept clean. Brain antiseptic , Wendy thought. That's what I need . The lady at the reception desk looked quite content to carry on with her task of writing letters to whomever she may be writing them, occasionally answering the phone in a manner far too jovial for her general demeanour.
    Posters adorned the wall.
    One in four people will experience a mental health problem .
    Mental Health Awareness Week: Bipolar disorder causes severe mood swings that can leave a person feeling manic and depressed .
    In every secondary school classroom there will be two young people who have self-harmed .
    Depressing reading; not entirely conducive to cheering up their clients, Wendy thought.
    The door in front of her clicked open and a dark-haired woman in a white blouse and black trousers, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, smiled pleasingly, her eyes barely visible in the folds of her smile as she ushered out an Indian-looking woman and her child. The child looked no older than five or six, with medium-brown curly locks dancing over her head. Wendy watched them pass.
    “Wendy Knight?” The woman was smiling again, and cocked her head to the side as if to welcome Wendy in. Next, please .
    Wendy followed her into the room. Certificates were hung in a jovial and haphazard manner on the wall closest to the counsellor's desk, shelves presenting teddy bears and stuffed bunny rabbits, a corner displaying all manner of children's toys. The