What She Saw Read Online Free PDF Page A

destroy all the forensic evidence in a car simply by burning it out.’ Carter, a skinny man with heavily pockmarked cheeks, emphasized his point by jabbing his finger at his temple and then at the car.
    A door opened on the adjacent wall and a particularly tall woman in her mid-thirties emerged, white-suited, platinum-blonde hair with a navy-blue parting. Her immaculately applied make-up made her seem strangely at odds with the oil-tainted space.
    However
, thought Rosen,
you walk the space like you were born in a garage
.
    â€˜Meryl Southall.’ Carter introduced the woman. The name rang a bell but Rosen could make no definitive connection.
    â€˜Hi, Meryl,’ said Bellwood.
    Southall nodded at Bellwood in dour recognition.
    To the left of the Megane there was a long metal table on which sat aluminium bowls full of blackened dust, and a range of sieves with different-sized meshes.
    â€˜We’ve been through everything that was left of the upholstery, front seats and back, and all we came up with was dust.’
    Meryl Southall joined them, her bright red fingernails visible beneath latex gloves.
    â€˜Who is she?’ Rosen whispered to Bellwood, uneasy about information being exchanged under the nose of a woman he couldn’t place.
    â€˜Meryl’s a telecommunications technician from Satellite Forensic Services,’ explained Bellwood. ‘Big Spurs fan, like you, David.’
    I didn’t know we needed her help
, thought Rosen.
And I certainly didn’t ask for it
.
    As if reading Rosen’s mind, Carter said, ‘Mr Baxter, your boss, was down here earlier, seeing how things were progressing. He gave the all clear to bring Meryl on board when we showed him what we’d found.’
    Baxter was the duty chief superintendent. In the decades he’d known him, Rosen had never seen the budget-orientated tightwad be open-handed with his own money, or the money he managed for the Met.
The development with Thomas
, thought Rosen,
must’ve rattled Baxter’s
cage for him to have given the go-ahead to employ the services of a pricey outfit like Satellite Forensic Services
.
    Rosen’s irritation over his intervention and the lack of communication around it was counterbalanced by the prospect of something significant having surfaced in the Megane.
    â€˜What have you got for me, Alan?’
    â€˜Two letters on the chassis – M and C – didn’t get blitzed off the metal when the car went up.’
    â€˜Carol, Stolen Vehicles. . .’
    She was already on her mobile, finding space away from the group to make the call.
    â€˜So, what’s come up from the car?’ he pressed.
    â€˜The fire was started inside the vehicle,’ said Carter. ‘From the back seat. It wasn’t doused on the outside. Whoever did this wasn’t taking any chances. He, they, wanted this kid dead. They were careful about where they started the fire, but not so careful about sealing it as they got away – they left the rear door ajar and unlocked. If you notice the pattern of the charring on the rear frame of the car, the densest flames were there. This is where the worst damage was done.’
    Rosen looked through the empty windows at the way the metal was twisted in the lower half of the rear of the car, how the structure was blackened but slightly less damaged as it touched the roof.
    â€˜It was lucky the thing blew before the fire fighters got there,’ observed Carter.
    â€˜Go on,’ encouraged Rosen.
    â€˜Because of this.’
    Rosen turned as Meryl Southall spoke. She held out a small metal bowl inside which sat a lump of shrivelled plastic and buckled metal. It was the remains of a mobile phone. ‘If the fire fighters had sprayed the car with their aqueous film-forming foam, it could’ve got through the crack in this little baby and ruined the electrical circuit inside.’
    She picked the phone up with tweezers and turned it round.