She took a drag, went over to the window and gazed down on the estate. Becky’s body had been taken away hours ago, but a large crowd still remained by the entrance to Haslow House. Murder was hardly unknown on the Mansfield, but it was usually the dealers or skagheads who ended up dead, shot in the chest or knifed in the guts. A young mum who’d been strangled was something different. A young mum had novelty value. Although she was too far away to be able to hear anything, she could imagine the buzz running through the crowd. She could see it in their body language, in the way they huddled together, gawping and whispering. Old Bill was still in evidence too, searching the surrounding area and bagging all the crap that was lying around. The place had never looked so tidy. The key turned in the front door, and seconds later Micky came into the flat. He dropped the holdall he was carrying and stood by the entrance to the kitchen with his hands on his hips.
