Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(2)

‘Did you get the gardener’s statement?’

‘Yes, Sarge.’ She dug in her pocket and opened her notebook. ‘Peter Gallway, lives in the area. He came here looking for work. He went round the back when he thought he heard a scream, he thought someone might be in trouble. Turned out be a fox.’

‘Do you think he was casing the place?’

Ebony shook her head. ‘He has form; but it’s not for burglary; he told me about it as soon as I asked. He was done for joy-riding when he was a teenager. I checked it. Looks like it was a one-off. I think he’s straight.’

‘You alright? You look freezing.’

Carter hadn’t quite worked out the new addition to the Murder Squad. She had one of those faces that was hard to read: angry, sad or just concentrating?

‘I’m fine, Sarge.’ Ebony wiped her nose surreptitiously with the edge of her forefinger. It felt wet. She dived into her pocket for a tissue.

On the rare occasion Ebony wore make-up it was to tone down her features, not exaggerate them. She had an over-large mouth, eyes too big set in a narrow face. Altogether it made for an interesting rather than pretty face.

He looked towards where she’d been scraping the gravel when he arrived. ‘Find something?’

‘I was looking at this.’ She knelt back down and shone her torch into the scooped-out hollows where tyres had been resting. ‘Must have been a big vehicle . . . heavy.’

Carter squatted down beside her and looked along the driveway to a second set of indentations, now softly coated by a layer of white. ‘Yeah, about twelve feet long: big van, small lorry – too big for a domestic vehicle.’

Ebony scraped away the fine layer of snow. ‘There are leaves in the bottom here. The last leaves fell about two weeks ago.’

Carter straightened up. ‘Good work, Ebb.’ He tried to push his hands further in his pockets; they didn’t quite fit. ‘We’ll get a mould taken of those tyres.’ Carter swivelled; compressed snow squeaked beneath the sole of his expensive boots. ‘Nice place this.’ He nodded appreciatively. ‘Kind of place I was thinking of retiring to . . .’ He looked back to wink at her. ‘Course, have to get better on the take . . .’

‘Not my cup of tea, Sarge,’ she replied, no smile. ‘Too remote.’

‘Yeah you’re right, Ebb. Never get a Chinese delivered out here.’ He turned three-sixty degrees. ‘It looks like it could do with some TLC. Looks neglected. A camera flashed at an upstairs window. ‘Did SOCOs say when they’d be finished?’

‘Yes . . . It’ll be another couple of hours before we can go inside.’

Carter tried pulling his collar up further. ‘Lucky bastard.’ He looked up at the white-suited figure standing at the bedroom window twirling a brush in the bottom corner of the windowpane.

‘Sir?’ An officer appeared beside them and handed them a packet each with protective suits and over-boots inside. ‘Doctor Harding says she’s ready for you.’

For once Carter was glad to put the suit on; usually it made him sweat. He finished pulling up the hood as they followed the officer around the side of the house and through the open garden gate.

‘Is this the route the gardener said he took, Ebb?’ Carter shone his torch into the undergrowth to his right. It was too thick to see anything.

‘Yes, Sarge.’

‘I wouldn’t have come round here in the dark.’

She shone her torch along the conservatory window and traced the smear of human contact across the grime. ‘He said he felt his way round against the glass.’

‘Bloody eerie sound a fox makes.’ Said Carter. ‘Must have been starving what with the snow. All the foxes I see round my place seem to prefer “à la carte”. Bold as brass. Big buggers. Swagger up to your back door and give you their order. Fries on the side.’

A blonde-haired woman in a forensic suit looked up from beneath the tent as they approached.

‘Sergeant?’

‘How’s it going, Doc?’ Carter walked over to her as she knelt by the side of the grave next to an open body bag. ‘What have we got?’

‘It’s a woman,’ said Harding. ‘The body’s been dismembered. We’re about to start digging it out now. I wanted you to see it first. This is what the fox had a go at. This was above ground.’ Harding picked up the woman’s arm from the body bag. The bones of the forearm were exposed. Skeletal fingers were chewed into a bony claw.

Ebony walked around to the far side of the hole and knelt down to get a better look. Inside the grave the woman’s legs were laid out side by side. Her shoulders and head rested close to the top of her legs.

‘Is it all there?’ asked Carter as he peered into the hole. ‘Her head looks like it’s where her torso should be.’

‘It’s normal for the thorax area to decompose first,’ answered Harding. ‘Especially if she was opened up, which it looks like she was.’ Harding pointed to the beginning of a slit at the base of the woman’s neck.

As Harding talked, Ebony knelt and reached inside the grave. She rubbed her fingers lightly across the flesh on the woman’s shoulder then examined the residue on her fingertip.

‘What is it, Ebb?’ asked Carter.

‘Grave wax, Sarge. She’s been in here some time.’