‘Yes. When I said “good dentition”, I didn’t mean to suggest her teeth were in good condition. I mean we have a good profile of her teeth, and any dental work, plus the unusual condition. This gives us a better chance of making a positive identification.’

‘Understood.’

‘As for the second victim, this individual is also female. What more can I tell you?’

‘There was a shoe,’ said Cooper. ‘That could give us a lead, at least.’

‘But the shoe wasn’t found on the victim, it was lying in the soil about five yards away from the body. Without a direct connection to the victim, it isn’t a known piece of evidence. It could have landed up there some other way.’

Hitchens looked around the group. ‘Now I’m going to hand over to our consultant forensic anthropologist, Dr Pat Jamieson, who is going to fill us in on some of the details.’

Murfin groaned dramatically, as if he’d been shot. Despite himself, Cooper couldn’t help laughing.

‘Superintendent Branagh has expressed a firm view on this,’ said Hitchens, as if he’d anticipated resistance. ‘She thinks we should be fully briefed by the forensic specialists. We ought to make full use of their expertise while we have them on the payroll, so to speak. The superintendent believes we’ll all benefit from the insight.’

Murfin was making noises as though he was going to be sick. Hitchens looked at him.

‘And she emphasized that it should be the whole team.’

When Dr Jamieson entered, he looked as surprised as anyone to be sitting in a meeting room with a bunch of DCs who thought they had better things to do. Cooper wondered who had twisted his arm. The mysterious Superintendent Branagh, perhaps?

Jamieson rallied bravely, despite the chilly atmosphere. He became professional after he’d set up his laptop and screen, and began his presentation.

‘Well, there are four things we might hope to establish from decomposed or skeletalized remains,’ he said. ‘Sex, race, age and stature.’

‘And cause of death?’ suggested someone hopefully.

Jamieson turned to Hitchens. ‘Inspector, you know I can’t address –’

‘Yes, I know. Carry on, Doctor.’

The anthropologist hesitated. ‘I see. Well, let’s press on. First comes sex.’

He seemed to notice Gavin Murfin’s expression out of the corner of his eye and hastily amended his words.