The women gone Griffiths surveyed the scene. What was going on here? Was this really the man’s wife, or was it some hooker he’d hauled in off the street? Or maybe he’d married a hooker in the first place? Maybe they were playing some kind of sick game that had gone horribly fatally wrong? Griffiths had heard of couples role playing to the brink of death, not something that happened in his conjugal bed, the only rolling going on there was the missus rolling away from him. Anyway the stiff was fully dressed so that probably ruled that out.
‘We know about the photo shoots’ try as he might Griffiths couldn’t get his voice to sound right. It was too harsh, patronising, too policemany. ‘Did he make you do them?’