The Reborn by Lin Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

from a small pressure mark round the mouth consistent with a mask. Blood tests should reveal whether chloroform was ingested.’
    ‘Would you say her attacker knew what they were doing?’ asked Slater.
    ‘It’s a classical incision. Not the preferred method now, but effective. Yes, I’d say they knew, or made a very good guess.’
    Sissons lifted the dark mass of the placenta and weighed it. ‘502 grammes, 21 centimetres long, 2.23 centimetres thick.’ He moved on to the umbilical cord. ‘57 centimetres in length. The end neatly cut.’
    ‘And was the baby likely to be alive when it was born?’ Rhona asked.
    ‘A full term baby would have a strong chance of survival, even under these circumstances.’
    Sissons rolled the body over.
    ‘Is that a tattoo?’ Rhona pointed to a mark at the base of the spine.
    Sissons pulled the overhead light closer. ‘It’s a flower.’
    It was a flower, around two centimetres in diameter, yellow-centred with a cluster of white ray florets, some tipped with red.
    ‘ Bellis perennis . An eye of day,’ Rhona said.
    ‘What?’ Slater said.
    ‘A day’s eye, or daisy. So called because it heralds the day.’
    ‘So we have a daisy tattoo and the words “daisy chain” in mirror writing on the hands,’ Slater said.
    The external findings having been recorded, Sissons began to open up the body. The stomach contents, removed and weighed, would end up with Rhona at the lab. At first glance, the meal resembled burger and chips, favourite food of the masses.
    ‘Her boyfriend said she went to buy candyfloss,’ Slater said.
    ‘I don’t see any evidence of that, but Dr MacLeod will confirm.’
    ‘If he’s lying about it, he could be lying about other things.’
    ‘Did he admit to being the father of the child?’ Rhona asked.
    Slater shook his head. ‘He said it wasn’t his, but he didn’t care. Can we confirm this without a baby?’
    ‘I took blood from the umbilical cord,’ replied Rhona. ‘We can use it in a paternity test.’
    ‘So we can tell?’ Slater repeated.
    ‘Yes.’
    The time spent on a post-mortem depended on the pathologist. Each had their own way of working and their own speed. Sissons was neither too fast nor too slow. Despite this, Rhona could sense Slater’s desperation to get away. She had caught a strong smell of cigarette smoke in the changing room. Chances were he just needed a fag. At one point she wondered if Sissons had picked up on this and was deliberately slowing down the proceedings.
    Slater’s nicotine craving eventually won. He muttered something about needing the toilet and absented himself. They were at the final stages anyway and knew little more than they had surmised in the incident tent, the fibres Rhona had lifted from the body being the only possible material link with Kira’s assailant.
    Slater’s boiler suit lay discarded in the changing room, his overcoat gone from the peg. Rhona stripped hers off and checked her phone. There were no messages. She did a quick mental calculation. Court proceedings could be delayed for any number of reasons. Janice had promised to call as soon as she had any word.
    Outside, the air was sharp with frost. She remembered leaving the High Court with McNab after the Mary Healey case on a day like this. They’d celebrated the outcome with coffee at the Central Café, one of the few surviving old-fashioned Italian cafés that had served Glasgow well. She turned in that direction.
    She was relieved to find no sign of Rocco, the proprietor. She didn’t know if she could cope if he mentioned McNab. She slid alongside a red formica table that held the usual accompaniments for Rocco’s famous fish suppers: salt, vinegar and sauce. Spurning the menu card, she ordered a large mug of black coffee, while questioning her sanity in coming here. She had a sense of starting to live her life backwards, a sure sign of growing old, or going mad. McNab would have made fun of her for it.
    They had sat at this table the