The Reborn Read Free Page A

outside the flat was deserted, patched by darkness where a street lamp had failed. She unlocked the car remotely, shivering in the frosty air. In the distance rose the majestic edifice that housed Glasgow’s famous Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery, and on the hill behind was the towering outline of Glasgow University. Surrounding all this lay the park, a place of Victorian splendour, its landscaped curves following the River Kelvin from which it took its name. Criss-crossed by numerous leafy walkways and cycle paths, it was a favourite haunt for all age groups in daylight but, like most inner city parks, it was not for the faint of heart after dark.
    As she turned in at the park gates she saw the pulsating blue lights of three squad cars. There had been general disquiet among residents about the siting of the funfair, but their objections had been overruled by the city authorities – something they would probably regret now.
    The entrance to the funfair was cordoned off, and a constable had taken charge. McNab had been the Crime Scene Manager on numerous incidents she’d been involved with, and Rhona was used to seeing his familiar figure, hearing his jocular welcome, and watching him eye up any female personnel he hadn’t yet persuaded into bed. The young constable who handed her the log book didn’t even know who she was and insisted on checking her ID before letting her pass.
    Walking onto a scene knowing the team she’d worked with for so long – her family – no longer existed was the most difficult part of each new case. She’d thought her new role as an independent expert under the auspices of the university would help. She liked working alongside Roy Hunter, the former DCI who had developed a digitised crime scene management system that made CSI Miami look like a bunch of amateurs. Spherical High Definition recording of major crime scenes, software that incorporated every item of information gathered – maps of the area, post-mortem findings, her own forensic notes, including DNA and fingerprint results. All of this was regularly updated and available twenty-four hours a day via laptop, phone or PDA. A far cry from notebook drawings, and definitely the future of policing.
    Despite her new status, the absence of McNab, Chrissy and DI Wilson, who was currently awaiting a court appearance for assaulting a prisoner, had only served to accentuate her feeling of isolation. So she was relieved when she spotted one friendly face in the guise of DS Janice Clark, who had been promoted recently and taken over McNab’s role as Crime Scene Manager.
    ‘Michael would be proud of you,’ Rhona told her.
    ‘He taught me everything I know.’
    Rhona left a moment of silence before she spoke. ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘The body of a teenage girl was found in the Hall of Mirrors.’ Janice grimaced, and Rhona noticed she looked pale.
    ‘That bad?’
    She gave a swift nod. ‘The pathologist is in with her now.’
    Rhona didn’t ask for details. She would see for herself soon enough. She made her way over to a black tent fronted by a ticket booth, where a curtain had been pulled back to allow entry. The place smelt of diesel from the generators and damp, trodden grass. A narrow corridor lit by an orange light led to a second curtain, also tied back.
    The first image that greeted her inside was herself, kitted out in a boiler suit, resembling a white balloon. The ludicrous reflection was more disquieting than amusing.
    Blazing arc lights and metal treads set out on the wooden flooring led her towards the rear of the tented structure. The route was indirect and she had to pass various distorted images of herself before eventually being confronted by a likeness of Dr Sissons, his height diminished, his lower half so squat that his torso was only inches from the floor.
    ‘Disturbing, isn’t it?’
    She wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the crime scene or his counterpart in the mirror. He stepped aside to give her a