'Sure enough,' said Robertson, looking up with a serious smile on her face. 'And I'd also say he, or she, is quite a bit taller than this woman.' She nodded her head at the body on the ground in front of her. And this woman's actually quite tall herself. I'd say about 165, 170 centimetres.'
'Thanks, Helen,' said Logan. 'If there's anything else...'
'I'll let you know,' finished Robertson. 'There is one other thing. The killer will probably have blood all over his clothes.'
'OK. That's useful.' Logan turned to Grant. 'We need to find the knife, if possible,' she said. 'Get some people to search the park.'
'Right, madam,' said Grant.
Logan looked at her watch. It was only five o'clock. It would be light for a long time yet. 'The park's a big place but they can look till it gets dark,' she said. 'They've probably got another four or five hours at least.'
Grant moved away and started giving orders to some of the police officers standing around. Logan walked some metres away from the body and allowed the sunshine and fresh air to take away some of the coldness of death.
A few minutes later, Grant came back towards Logan with Helen Robertson.
'I found this in her pocket,' said Robertson, passing Logan a clear plastic police bag with a rather dirty envelope inside it.
Logan took the bag and held it carefully so that she could look inside the envelope. It was empty. On the back of the envelope there were a few words: eggs, bread, milk, matches. Someone's shopping list. On the front was the name Morag Mackenzie but no address.
Previous page