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his plastic suit rustling. 'And I think I'd be happy not to see anything like it again.' He lifted the woman's blouse. 'There's a nasty stab wound here.
    Straight into the liver I would say - I'll let you know for certain when she's on the slab - but it should be the injury that killed her.'
    'Should be?' Cutler frowned.
    'I'm surprised by the lack of blood. There's so much from her eyes and so little from here. It should have been pumping out of her, but there's nothing.'
    'Post-mortem wound?'
    'Even if it was, unless the killer hung around for a while before delivering it, there should still be more blood. A conundrum.'
    'So what about the eyes?' Cutler asked. 'Are they gouged out? Cut out?'
    T wish. Look.' Spanton pointed at something shining in the mess of the woman's smart blouse.
    That looks like vitreous gel to me. It's the substance inside the back of the eye. There's a lot of it.' He looked up. 'She's wearing what's left of her eyes in all this blood. It's impossible but it's almost as if they exploded.'
    'Sir?' called Andy.
    Cutler nodded at Dr Spanton and left him to get on with his unpleasant job. 'What have you got?'
    'Her name's Janet Scott,' Andy told him. 'She's 54, divorced. Worked here since the place opened twelve years ago.'
    'Sir?' A disembodied voice called out from somewhere beyond Andy. 'CCTVs been disabled.
    Nothing on the computer.'
    Cutler sighed. Nothing was ever easy. So they'd learned the killer wasn't stupid. 'What else?' He returned his attention to Andy.
    'About Janet Scott? Not much. She was working on her own today, but that wasn't normal. Her colleague had called in sick.'
    'One person working alone in a safety deposit company? Seems a bit odd.'
    'It's not the smartest area of town. And this isn't a bank.' Andy shrugged. 'I doubt these boxes are filled with diamonds. Plus, there's no record of any thefts or break-ins at the premises, so I guess she felt quite relaxed.'
    'That was a mistake,' Cutler said, glancing back at the body. 'Who found her?'
    The colleague. A Mr John Askew. He's the
    owner, actually. Rang to check on her and after getting no answer several times came down here.
    Called 999 straight away. His wife verifies his story.'
    Make sure he doesn't call anyone else. I don't want too many details in the press just yet.'
    'Not a serial, is it?'
    'It's unpleasant. That's enough.' Cutler couldn't shake the unease. It wasn't just the murder.
    Gruesome as this one was, he'd seen worse.
    There was just something about it that made him think he wasn't seeing the bigger picture. That this should be ringing alarm bells for him about something just out of his mental reach.
    'Can we find out who was the last client in?'
    'I'm ahead of you, sir. Mr Askew checked before we got here, even though he was shocked. PC
    Weir double-checked the system and got the same answer.'
    Which is?' Andy Davidson had only been on attachment with him for a couple of weeks, but Cutler had already discovered how hard it was to get him to the point.
    'A woman named Eryn Bunting accessed her
    deposit box at 11.45 this morning. The box itself is still in that private room.' He nodded over at one of the doors behind the slumped body of Janet Scott. That's where clients do whatever they need to do before returning it.'
    'I presume the box is empty.'

    'Correct.'
    'Who is she?'
    'Her address was on the records and we've got someone over there checking it out. This was only her second visit. She was here in 2007 to open her account and that was it until today.'
    'I doubt very much that whoever we're looking for is the person at that address. Like you said.
    This isn't a bank. From my experience the people who have safety deposit boxes have something to hide. They're unlikely to give their own name and address, and it's unlikely, as long as the annual fees are paid, that anyone checks too thoroughly.
    Wouldn't be good for business.'
    He looked around him. Suddenly confined
    space felt oppressive. 'Let's get out of here