‘I know what you’re like, Ben. Before long, you’ll start feeling sorry for someone, and you’ll end up making promises you can’t keep. It’s a mistake to promise anything to a member of the public, you know. Don’t let them know your sympathies at all. Keep your feelings to yourself.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘You might know the theory, but it’s the practice you find difficult, isn’t it?’

Cooper bit his lip and moved back to his desk. Fry spotted the flier in his out tray, advertising the carol concert by the male voice choir, which would be followed by a children’s party. There were going to be mince pies and mulled wine, and even a visit by Santa.

‘Doing good work for the community again? Very commendable. You’re not going to play Father Christmas yourself are you, Ben?’

‘No, I’ve asked Gavin to do it.’

‘Gavin? You’ve asked Gavin to be Father Christmas?’

‘He’s about the right shape. He won’t need much padding to fit the costume.’

‘Yes, but won’t the kids be expecting a bit of jollity and a certain amount of ho-ho-ho-ing? Not someone who kicks them out of the way to get at the mince pies?’

‘Actually, Gavin is very good with children. You should see him at home – he makes a great dad. He just puts an act on at work for the sake of his image.’

‘His image? Now I’ve heard everything. DC Murfin has an image.’

Murfin looked unruffled. ‘Hey, Diane, the new choir is always on the look-out for new members. Isn’t that right, Ben?’

‘Well …’

‘You don’t need to have done any public singing before. There are about twenty performances a year, and practice sessions in a church hall at Allestree. You’d do that for a charitable cause, wouldn’t you, Diane?’

Fry looked at his smiling face suspiciously. ‘I thought this was a male voice choir? Surely a requirement for membership would be that you had testicles to drop?’

Murfin grinned more widely. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘Spot on.’

Fry’s phone rang – the DI calling her into his office to hear the latest news from the forensics team.

‘It’s really quite odd,’ said Dr Jamieson when Fry joined them. ‘The evidence might almost be called contradictory. I didn’t mention it in the presentation earlier for that very reason. Because I can’t explain it, scientifically.’

‘What do you mean, Doctor?’ asked Hitchens. ‘We’ll need it in simple terms.’

‘Well, we can tell from the pattern of decomposition and the disarticulation of the body that Victim B was dug up and re-buried some time after death.’

‘So the victim was killed somewhere else, then moved to Pity Wood as a permanent place of concealment? That’s pretty much what we expected.’

‘Well, no – that’s not a legitimate conclusion, I’m afraid,’ said Jamieson.