‘I think it’s all just a big scare, to distract us from more important things.’

‘What’s more important than the destruction of the planet?’ said Cooper.

‘You see? You’re exaggerating. People exaggerate about it all the time.’

‘Are we ready for the off, or what?’ said Murfin. ‘The fleshpots of Rakedale await, boys and girls.’

Fry stood up and brushed some silver glitter off the shoulders of her jacket.

‘Damn tinsel. I’m probably allergic to it.’

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The mobile incident room was on site at Pity Wood. A thirty-foot trailer equipped with computers, drop-down screens and video and DVD equipment, and a ‘front office’ open to the public. It had on-board generators and floodlight masts. And, most importantly, it had heating, a fully equipped kitchen and toilet facilities. The cold rain falling steadily on the farm was enough to drive officers into the trailer on any pretext.

The initial body tent had been replaced by a larger crime scene tent to allow more space for working in. The digging team could be heard chatting among themselves sometimes, but they were more often silent and absorbed in their task, oblivious to the presence of the police waiting for them to finish their work.

As Fry and Cooper arrived, there was a burst of laughter from the excavation area, slightly brittle laughter, a release of tension.

‘Anybody want a Pyrex baking dish?’ said someone. ‘It’s still in one piece, just needs a bit of mud cleaning off. I’m giving it away. If you don’t want it, I’ll sell it on eBay.’

‘It might be evidence,’ said a police exhibits officer standing nearby with his clipboard.

The diggers groaned and went back to their task.

‘Hello, what is he doing here?’ said Fry as they reported in at the mobile incident unit.

Cooper looked around, but there were too many people to make out which of them Fry had picked out. ‘Who?’

‘Jamie Ward. The builder’s labourer.’

‘The one who found the body?’

‘That’s him. He’s over there, at the outer cordon.’

‘That’s odd.’

‘Normally, I’d say it was downright suspicious,’ said Fry. ‘Members of the public who find dead bodies shouldn’t still be hanging around the crime scene next day – especially when they live miles away, as Jamie does. It makes you look guilty.’

‘But Jamie can’t be a suspect. Maybe he’s come back with some more information.’

‘We’ll see.’

Fry strode over to the cordon. Jamie looked more relieved than startled when he saw her.

‘I didn’t recognize anyone else. I’ve been waiting to speak to you,’ he said.

‘Go ahead, then, Jamie. I’m here now.’

‘I want to show you something.’