Page 1 of The Scene of the Crime

CHAPTER ONE

Jessica Russell woke at 7 a.m. and spent the next hour in the living room doing her daily yoga and meditation, hoping it would help calm her nerves before her interview at Scotland Yard. When she’d finished, she rinsed the dirty crockery her twin brother David had left in the sink the night before and put it in the dishwasher. Then, she wiped down the work surfaces and table before making her daily breakfast of granola, yoghurt and blueberries. She was making herself a ginseng tea when David walked into the kitchen wearing a T-shirt and pyjama shorts.

‘Not at work today then?’ she asked, surprised to see him.

‘I wouldn’t be here if I were, would I?’ He yawned and scratched his backside.

‘I was just asking, that’s all . . .’

‘I had hoped to have a lie-in, but all your chanting woke me,’ he grumbled.

‘Sorry about that. Is the day off to escape that little Chihuahua that keeps attacking you on your rounds?’ she laughed.

‘It’s not funny. The bloody thing’s mad. It’s bitten me twice now. I daren’t give it a kick in case it drops down dead.’

‘Tell the owner to keep it indoors.’

‘I have, but she’s eighty-six and doesn’t know what time of day it is . . . she’s as mad as her dog.’

‘So why the day off?’

‘I’m going to look at a racing bike in West Wickham. It’s a Fairlight Strael, a year old and hardly used, or so the seller says.’

‘How much is it?’

‘Two grand.’

‘For a bicycle!’

He frowned. ‘They’re nearer three thousand new. I’ll use it for the Ride London event if I buy it. I’m doing it for Cancer Research in memory of Mum, so it’d be nice if you’d sponsor me.’

‘Of course I will. Have you raised much so far?’

‘Nearly three grand. A lot of my postie colleagues have donated online. I’ve also been a bit cheeky and asked people on my mail round.’

‘Are you allowed to do that?’

‘No, but I stuck to people I know well who are unlikely to report me. They’ve all been very supportive actually.’

‘Well done, you. Send me the link and I’ll donate. How far is the ride?’

‘Hundred K. We start in central London, cycle into Essex and finish at Tower Bridge.’

‘Do you want anything?’ she asked, getting the granola from the cupboard.

‘Finding your own place to live would be good,’ he said, po-faced.

Jessica wasn’t sure if he was being serious. ‘I meant some breakfast.’

‘No thanks. All I want is some water and more sleep,’ he replied. As David reached for a glass, Jessica noticed him wince and then rub his lower back.

‘You all right?’

‘I pulled something pushing my mail trolley around.’

‘I thought they were meant to make your job easier.’

‘They’re still bloody heavy when they’re full.’