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haunches, that he might further examine the pile of clothing.
    ‘This sort of excision,’ Tanja asked Erik. ‘Is it a tricky procedure?’
    ‘Not really,’ Polderhuis answered. ‘The rectus muscles which surround the eye aren’t noted for their tenacity. And it’s fairly obvious which bits need to be cut. It certainly wouldn’t require any specialist knowledge.’
    ‘Any idea as to time of death then? I presume the rigor indicates that it’s been at least three hours?’
    ‘Indeed,’ Polderhuis confirmed. ‘We have some nice hypostasis, too. Very neat.’ He pointed at the darker patches of blood that had gathered in the victim’s back and buttocks. ‘He’s been dead at least
ten
hours, I’d say. From the lack of gouging and the relatively small blood loss, I’d venture that the eyes were done post mortem.’
    ‘Right,’ Tanja said. ‘So that would take us back to sometime before midnight.’
    ‘Sounds reasonable.’ Polderhuis took a thermometer from his top pocket. ‘Anyway, best get it over with. Thirty years in the job, and it still upsets me that I can’t just put it in their mouths.’
    Tanja smiled to herself and headed into the bathroom. She saw that one of the towels was wet, that the shower head was still dripping. There was also the faintest trace of red about the plug hole, which might just have been blood.
    She would ask Visser to have a look at that. The towel, too. Human beings, even the saintly sort, shed their skins as readily as snakes.
    Pieter stuck his head round the bathroom door. ‘I think I might have something.’
    ‘That remains to be seen,’ Tanja responded absently, as she checked her reflection in the mirror. God, she
was
looking old.
    ‘With regards to the case.’
    ‘Go on, then,’ Tanja invited.
    ‘I’ve looked everywhere, and Ruben seems to be missing something.’
    ‘Apart from his eyeball, you mean?’
    ‘His mobile phone.’
    Tanja shrugged. ‘Maybe he forgot to bring it with him.’
    Pieter looked sceptical. Of course, he belonged to a generation which would no more forget its phone than its shoes.
    ‘Make a note of it, then,’ Tanja instructed. ‘I doubt it’s important, but you never know.’
    Pieter scribbled on his pad. ‘Do you think the killer took it?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    Pieter tapped his pencil against the pad. ‘Hester Goldberg,’ he mused. ‘Want me to run a check?’
    ‘In due course.’
    ‘You think it’s her real name?’
    ‘We rule nothing out, at this stage. Just as we rule nothing in. Maybe she is innocent. Maybe she left early, and Mikael had some other visitor.’
    ‘Is that likely?’ he asked.
    ‘Not likely. But not impossible.’
    Tanja left the bathroom, Pieter just behind her. He seemed to have recovered a little, and had lost that green tinge. Tanja supposed she was
slightly
impressed by this; it had taken Alex the better part of a year to come up with an effective way of controlling his gag reflex.
    Karl Visser came over to join them. ‘Will you be wanting anything in particular?’ he asked. ‘We’ll dust all the usual contact points for prints, of course.’
    ‘There’s a towel in the bathroom which needs your attention,’ she said. ‘And maybe you should look underneath his fingernails.’
    ‘What about the other DNA sources?’ Pieter queried. ‘Hair and so on.’
    Erik frowned. ‘You’ve heard of DNA? I thought everyone in the Vecht believed in Creationism.’
    ‘I could draw you a nice diagram of the double-helical structure, if you’d like,’ Pieter offered. ‘I have the anti-parallel thing down pretty well.’
    Erik turned to Tanja. ‘Do you like this kid?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Well, that’s all right, then. I thought it was just me.’
    ‘Hmm,’ said Tanja. ‘But we might as well get everything we can. Hair, semen, the works.’
    Visser nodded. ‘Right.’
    There was a commotion outside. Tanja heard the sound of voices raised in disagreement. Irritated, she strode out onto the