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Chapter 18
13‘What the hell is that smell?’ Rick shoved his digital camera in his coat pocket and retrieved his handkerchief to hold over his nose and mouth. Blue and white police tape fluttered from the open doorway. More tape inside indicated where the crime had taken place. The house, the street, the whole neighbourhood was deep in suburban Sutherland, a sterling example of post-World War II architecture after a 1970’s renovation invasion. Azaleas and roses grew side by side in a thorny abundance of winter growth. The houses either side of the dead woman’s home displayed well cared for gardens, knee-high brick fences, gnomes, and carefully clipped and swept driveways of matching faux sandstone pavers. ‘What smell?’ Gabriela walked in behind Rick, apparently unconcerned by the stench that lingere
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