‘DCI James was quite sure there was no reason for thinking that the second and third victims were killed by the same perpetrator,’ Lorimer continued, passing over the case files about Miriam Lyons and Jenny Haslet.
‘You might find this one a bit close to home,’ he went on, nodding at the file marked LYONS. ‘Girl was a well-brought up lassie from Newton Mearns. Family were devout Jews,’ he said, with the hint of a smile. Lorimer knew fine that Solomon Brightman no longer visited the synagogue as part of his Jewish faith, but the religion was something he could respect and understand, especially as his own parents were still practising Jews.
‘Miriam,’ Solly said softly, ‘the older sister who put Moses into a basket in the water. How sad that she should have been left to die like that.’
‘Hope you’re not going to start seeing obscure symbolism in this,’ Lorimer said darkly. ‘Miriam was on the game for the same reason as Carol and the others. Got hooked on junk and had to fund her habit,’ he said, his mouth twisting in distaste.
‘You disapprove of the street girls?’ Solly asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.
‘I’d like to see every last one of them off the streets, same as Helen James wanted,’ Lorimer muttered. ‘Somewhere they could be safe from any predatory males. It’s a damn sight better than it used to be,’ he added, ‘but while there is still one wee lassie out there selling her body for a fix then we’re not doing our job properly.’
‘We?’
Lorimer sighed. ‘Och I don’t just mean the police. It’s society as a whole. Nobody wants to think about things like that going on under their noses. At least till something like this happens,’ he said, tapping the photo of Miriam Lyons after she had been taken out of the Clyde by the riverman.
‘What would you like me to do?’ Solly asked, suddenly aware of the passion in his friend’s voice.
‘I know exactly what I’d like you to do,’ Lorimer answered.
‘See if Helen James was wrong. There’s way too much similarity in the MO’s of Geddes and Kilpatrick. The other two girls worked the drag as well. It’s just the way they died and the place where their bodies were found that set them apart.’
‘What about DNA traces?’
Lorimer shook his head again. ‘None on Lyons due to the length of time she had been in the river and, according to her notes, Helen James thinks that whoever strangled Jenny Haslet must also have been forensically aware.’
Solly put his fist to his lips, pondering. Lorimer was already involved in this in a big way, he thought. Was it to do with it being his first major case in this new job? Or was the policeman’s natural instinct for justice asserting itself? Lorimer was a man capable of feeling great pity for murder victims, Solly knew, and would treat these poor, vulnerable women with as much compassion as any other girl who had been brutalised.
CHAPTER 11
The Malmaison Hotel was a short walk from the red brick building that comprised police headquarters, a fact that amused rather than intimidated her. It was in direct contrast to the large façade of the Blythswood where she had spent these other few nights, being tucked away on the sloping hillside, though in truth both hotels had been landmarks in the city for quite different reasons in the past. While the Blythswood owed its history to the Royal Automobile Club, this smaller place had once been a Greek Orthodox Church. Any religious connotation seemed long gone, however, as she stepped into the foyer, noting the chequered carpet in purple and beige.
‘Any chance of a coffee?’ she asked the couple behind the desk.
‘Certainly.’ The girl looked up from the papers she had been discussing with her colleague and came around to where the tall, dark-haired woman was standing. ‘Just through here to the brasserie. Down the spiral staircase,’ she added, showing her the way.
Light flooded down from a glass roof to the enclosed courtyard below the wrought iron stairs. She glanced to one side at a pink checked chair, its back rising up into one curved point ending in a black tassel like a jester’s cap. It was a quirky bit of styling that made her smile as she walked delicately down to the coffee parlour below. Here there was further evidence of the chequered theme with three small tables topped with chessboards, empty of their playing pieces for