A Murder in Time(100)

“Did anyone touch anything? Move her?” Kendra demanded sharply, as she hurried to squat down beside the victim. This close, the grisly scent of death blended with the loamy earth odors. In a few hours, once temperatures climbed and morning slid into afternoon, she knew from experience that the smell would have reached her from at least a yard away. The body was relatively fresh.

The boy who’d reported the body and ushered them to the area answered. “Aye, well, me pa and Mr. Black over there, they turned ’er over, ma’am.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat as his eyes were drawn back to the dead woman. “We didn’t know she’d stuck ’er spoon in the wall until then. Me pa told me to fetch ’elp.”

“We thought she mighta been bosky, and fell down and ’urt ‘erself,” one of the older men offered. “We ’ad Martin ’urry ter the castle to tell ye, Yer Grace.”

“You didn’t carry her here?”

“Nay, miss.”

Kendra frowned as she scanned the body. The woman appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. Her head was tilted to the side, her face—it had been very pretty at one time—now mottled and marred with nasty scratches, dirt, and dried blood. Her eyes were blue, cloudy with the milky film associated with corneal opacity after death. The sunlight streaming through the canopy of oak leaves touched the hair tangled around her face, turning it into a nimbus of gold. She was wearing a long wool coat, flung open to reveal the brown silk inner lining and gown that had been candy-pink. The lower skirt was torn and soiled, and from the hips to the edge of the bodice, the fabric was stiff, stained nearly black with dried blood.

Absently, Kendra swatted at the flies buzzing around and crawling across the corpse. The blowflies had already begun their cycle of life and death, dropping their eggs to produce the maggots that fed on the decaying flesh. “She wasn’t killed here. Looks like she was stabbed in the torso, near the heart, but there’s no blood on the ground. She bled out somewhere else. She also appears to be missing a shoe. Anyone find a shoe?”

There was a chorus of negatives.

“I need to make notes, look around the area before we move the body,” Kendra said, looking at the Duke. Perhaps it was because he was a scientist and understood the importance of documentation that he nodded.

He turned to the kid. “Martin, is it? Go and fetch Miss Donovan foolscap and writing implements from the castle.”

“A tweezers and magnifying glass would also be helpful,” she added.

Martin glanced at the Duke, who nodded his permission. The boy sprinted off.

“If she wasn’t killed here, why do we need to worry about the area?” Alec wondered.

Kendra met his eyes. Last night was still fresh in her mind, but the dead woman lying at their feet trumped any feelings of discomfort. “You never know what you may find. I’d at least like the chance to find it before we trample all over it. Speaking of trampled . . .” She looked down the path. “This isn’t the route to the lake, but it’s obviously used.”

“Yes. ’Tis often used by those who live in the surrounding area but work on the castle grounds,” Alec replied.

“So he wanted her to be found,” Kendra said softly.

“I believe you are correct, Miss Donovan,” Aldridge said slowly, puzzlement in his blue eyes. “But why?”

Kendra had a few ideas. And because none of them were good, she simply shook her head. “Not here. Later.”

The Duke crouched down next to the victim. “It looks as though the poor girl ran through the forest.”

“Ran and fell down at least once, maybe more. The skirt around the knees is heavily soiled. She lost a shoe, but obviously kept running.”

Terrorized, Kendra thought. The tights covering her foot were so shredded and caked with dirt and blood that it was impossible to determine their original color. “She can’t have been out here that long. We’ve got flies and maggots, but no beetles or spiders. The animals haven’t done too much damage either. The ears suffered the most. Soft tissue. Something’s gnawed on the lobes. What time did you find the body?”

“A bit after seven,” one man said.

Kendra did the calculations in her head. It was now eight-thirty. Ten minutes to the castle to report the crime. A little longer back since the boy had to wait for them. Even though they’d set off at a brisk pace, they hadn’t been jogging. “What’s your name?” she asked.

The man turned his hat in his hands. “Bobby, miss. Bobby Black.”

“Does anybody know when the path might have been last used?”

Bobby Black darted a nervous glance at the Duke. “Oi can’t speak fer anyone else, miss. But me and Reggie Carter came through ’ere last evenin’, about eleven or so. We used it coming ’ome from the stables. The chit wasn’t ’ere then.”

“You’re sure of the time?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re sure she wasn’t here? It was dark. You could’ve overlooked her.”

“Nay. We would’ve tripped right over ’er!”

Kendra looked at the Duke. “We’ll need to interview the rest of the servants. Find out if anyone else used the path after Mr. Black and his friend went through. It will give us a window for when the victim was dumped here.”