The Mermaids Singing. Val McDermid

the fatal wounds, the cutting of the throat. That’s getting deeper too.’

      ‘Does that tell us anything?’ Carol asked, almost unintelligible through another yawn.

      ‘Like your pathologist, I’m reluctant to speculate just yet,’ Tony said. He moved on to the final set of pictures. For the first time, Carol saw his professional mask slip. Horror swept across Tony’s face, widening his eyes, drawing his lips back in a hissed intake of breath. She wasn’t surprised. When they’d turned Damien Connolly over, a six-foot rugby-playing detective had keeled over in a dead faint. Even the experienced police pathologist had turned away momentarily, visibly struggling not to be sick.