‘OK, thank you, Mickey. Now, can you tell me if this is Peter?’ Brian asked, passing over a mortuary photograph of the victim, a photo carefully cropped so as not to show the livid rope marks around the neck and digitally ‘cleaned’ to remove make-up. ‘Is this Peter? Peter Frost?’
‘Oh s**t, he’s dead, ain’t he?’ Mickey asked, clearly shocked at the image of the dead man, taking out a crumpled pack of Carlton Red cigarettes.
‘If this is Peter, then yes. I’m sorry to say he’s dead,’ confirmed Jessica as Mickey lit his cigarette with a throwaway lighter.
‘Oh f**k, the poor sod. What the f**k happened to him?’
‘Before we can answer that, Mickey, can you confirm that to the best of your knowledge, this is Peter Frost?’ Brain asked firmly.
‘Yes, yes, I’m fairly f*****g certain it’s him. Poor
