NATHAN AND BURKE WERE standing to one side, keeping out of the way of the white-suited forensics specialists, who were working the crime scene with their usual silent efficiency, when Vikram Bhaskar arrived. The bell over the door jangled noisily, announcing his arrival and giving the two detectives enough warning to intercept him before he could interfere with the work the forensics team was doing.
“Mr Bhaskar?” Nathan queried, moving to place himself between the older man, whose Indian heritage was obvious in both his features and his clothing, and the specialists who were photographing, dusting, and otherwise sampling the area around the two murdered women, whose extremities had been covered with plastic bags to protect any forensic evidence there might be on them.
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