Dawson understood that he was responsible for the site but constant interruptions just delayed their progress even more.
Dawson placed a hand on the professor’s elbow and began to guide him away. ‘They’re fine, Professor. They’re a bit of a strange bunch, not very sociable,’ he said. There was no need to be offensive to the man.
He nodded knowingly. ‘Oh I understand. Us scientists tend to be like that.’
‘Quite,’ Dawson agreed, removing his hand from the man’s elbow. There was a good 150 feet of space between them and the techies now.
‘Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to our most recent addition, Sergeant? A very interesting study.’
Dawson hesitated for just a minute before nodding and following the professor’s lead. Anything to keep him away from the site for a while.
The professor walked in a straight line, heading for the very edge of the site.
‘I’d like you to meet Quentin,’ the professor said proudly.
‘Bloody hell,’ Dawson exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks.
The body was burnt to a frazzle. Every inch he could see was blackened like scorched toast. He was sure that if he touched the body brittle bits of skin would fall off.
But that wasn’t what had surprised him. It was the fact that the body was not lying down. It was set in a crawling motion, both hands flat on the ground and one knee in front of the other.
It appeared staged and even more macabre than the others.
‘You’ll see our friend here has no flowers, as this soul doesn’t deserve them.’
Dawson stared at the eyes that were looking straight ahead as though he was going to continue his journey any second now.
‘Why not?’ he asked, unable to tear away his gaze.
‘Because this man was in the process of setting a booby trap for his wife and three-year-old son. She had refused to take him back after an affair, so he was rigging up a home-made explosive device attached to the front door.’
‘Jesus, what happened?’ Dawson asked, suddenly just grateful it had happened to him instead. A three-year-old in this condition would have haunted him for life.
‘He was in the process of balancing it when a car backfired in the street and made him jump. The bomb exploded all over him.’
‘And this is how he was found?’ Dawson asked incredulously.
Professor Wright nodded as he bent down. ‘Yes, he did not die immediately and attempted to get away.’
Dawson finally managed to look away.
Professor Wright smiled. ‘I can see that this has winded you, Sergeant. My apologies. It is strange how different things affect us.’
‘What are you learning from him?’ Dawson asked, eager to change the subject.
‘Quentin is a joint study between Catherine and myself. The rate and pattern of decomposition in charred remains have not been studied extensively. Body regions displaying significant charring appear to decompose at a faster rate. Areas with very light levels of charring decompose at a slower rate.’
‘But he is completely burnt. How can you compare?’
The professor gently turned Quentin onto his side. His pose remained the same. Dawson immediately saw that there was flesh in between his thighs that had not been burnt.
‘And Catherine?’
‘Again, in forensic practice burnt bodies are amongst the most neglected fields of entomological research. She is analysing the activity of flies on a burnt body in comparison to a normal body.’
Dawson collected his thoughts and forced himself to look away from the body, which looked even more macabre lying on its side.
‘It takes a special kind of guy to patrol this place at night, eh?’
‘None of our guests are going to harm anyone, Sergeant.’
Not the most open response.
‘But you’d need nerves of steel, surely, to wander around here alone at night? There are all sorts of graves to fall into.’
‘Not once you know where they are. There’s something quite soothing about working amongst the dead. It’s not for everyone, of course.’
‘Well Darren seems to like it. He’s been here how long?’
Professor Wright thought for a minute. ‘I’d say a couple of years now. It was an older man before, in the twilight of his career, you might say, but suddenly Curtis brought Darren to site and told us this was our new guy. I’m not sure what happened to old Gregory. It was all rather sudden, but Darren fitted in okay.’
Dawson’s antenna pricked up at this.
Anything sudden tended to happen for a reason.
Fifty-Four
Only one car occupied the three-car drive of the spacious semi-detached property just behind the old Wordsley hospital site.
The Vauxhall Carlton was parked smack bang in the middle and appeared to expect no other company.
As they approached the roomy box porch, Kim had no idea what they were going to find.
The bell she pressed sounded a high-pitched tune beyond the front door that seemed to sing for just a couple of seconds too long.
The door was opened by a woman who appeared to have settled into her mid-fifties with ease; her frame was slender and her hair completely white.
Her lightly tanned face adopted the expression of polite refusal as she stepped into the porch and opened the door.
‘Mrs Hickman?’ Kim said immediately and with hope.
The woman’s gaze took in both her and Bryant before a frown began to form. Kim wondered if they were looking at Louise’s mother.
She nodded slowly in Kim’s direction as both she and Bryant held up their identification.
‘Detective Inspector Stone and Detective Sergeant Bryant, may we come in?’ Kim asked quietly. The woman was about to receive some unwelcome news.
Mrs Hickman stepped aside and allowed them through.
Light streamed through from the kitchen beyond the hallway. Kim headed towards it and stepped into a kitchen that, although in disarray, was producing a mixture of smells that were delicious and inviting.
The kitchen door was open, leading into a spacious glass conservatory.
‘Please excuse the mess, I have a party tomorrow to prepare for,’ the woman said, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
Kim saw that her shoulders had already filled with tension.
‘We’re here about Louise,’ Bryant said gently.
Mrs Hickman nodded. ‘Of course you are.’
The woman leaned back against the counter top and slid her hands into the pockets of her three-quarter-length cotton trousers.
She appeared resigned to hearing something negative.
‘Mrs Hickman, could you tell us the last time you saw your daughter?’
‘December twenty-fifth in oh five,’ she said immediately.
Eleven years. Considerably longer than the time since their victim had been murdered.
‘You remember so clearly?’ Kim asked.
‘Yes, Inspector, I do. Now what can I do for you?’
‘Could you please confirm that your daughter Louise gave birth to a child when she was in her mid-teens?’
Mrs Hickman nodded. ‘Three days before her sixteenth birthday,’ she said and folded her arms. ‘Now will you please tell me why you are here?’
She appeared eager to learn what she had already ascertained was going to be bad news. Kim got the impression she had been waiting for news for years.
‘Please sit down, Mrs Hickman,’ Bryant advised.
‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you.’
Kim took a step forwards. ‘We have uncovered the body of a female, and we have reason to believe it is Louise.’
A small cry escaped from her lips. It may have been the news she was expecting, but it had impacted her all the same.
She stepped around to the dining table and pulled out a chair. Bryant held out a hand to steady her but she waved it away.
Bryant stepped back as Kim took a seat opposite the woman, whose head had fallen into her hands.
It was a long moment before she quietly shook her head and raised it. Although her eyes were red, Kim was surprised to see there were no actual tears.
‘It was only a matter of time,’ she whispered, staring down at the table.
‘Why do you say that?’ Kim asked.