he said, nodding towards the dog.Mella was annoyed to see that the other inspectors had parked their scooter immediately in front of the porch.“Can you move the scooter,” she said curtly to Rantakyrö. “We need to tape this area off so the forensic team can search for clues. How many people have touched the front door handle?”Rantakyrö shrugged.Mella stamped off to the house.Martinsson went over to the dog.“Now then, my girl,” she said softly, scratching the dog’s chest gently. “You can’t stay here, I’m afraid.”“We’ll have to have her put down,” Rantakyrö said.Yes, I suppose so, Martinsson thought.She stroked the dog’s triangular ears: they were very soft, one of them sticking straight up and the top of the other one folded down. The animal was black with white markings, with a white patch round one eye.“What sort of a mutt are you, then?” she said.The dog made licking movements in the air. A signal that she was well-disposed towards Martinsson, who stuck out her own tongue and licked her lips in response.
