Mycroft's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as he stepped back. Accessing data, as he looked at the room with an entire different perspective. He paused, because Lestrade was giving him that look - that faintly hopeful, 'You see something look'. Which Mycroft didn't get very often, to be honest, unless the red lights were flashing and it was Ground Zero in the backhalls ...

Right. Focus. He gestured to the girl. "Look at her, she was in the middle of pulling on her skirt, and she had closed her sweater before that. Covering herself. Modesty, not something you would expect when speaking to her two lovers. She wanted the attention, wanted to flaunt. Whoever came in here to kill her wanted her, but she didn't want them ..."

He looked around, his gaze suddenly sharp, "...and I don't they have left this house."