‘Good point,’ Branson agreed.

‘So let’s go down this route for now. When he brought her body – or body parts – here, it was nearly 3 a.m. Pitch dark. No one around. He had all the time in the world. He had the choice of at least six far thicker bushes within flashlight range, as we can see. So why did he choose the one so near and so sparse? And I’m not buying red mist or panic. He was clear-headed enough after killing her to remove her wedding and engagement rings and conceal them, and to hide her passport. But two things here are really bothering me.’

‘Which are, boss?’ Branson asked.

‘We know there were a number of true crime DVDs in the house. Let’s hypothesize that he learned through those that one of the best ways to dispose of a body is to dismember it and bury it in a shallow – rather than deep – grave, in woodlands. Because that gives you the best chance of predation, which we believe has happened here. The body parts conveniently carried off. So why was he dumb enough to leave items of her clothing in the grave also? Do either of you think that’s consistent with his planning?’

Grace looked at them all in turn before continuing. ‘Then, after all his planning, Niall Paternoster clumsily chucks the knife into the nearest bush? When there are several so dense and prickly it’s much less likely a member of the public would find it. Why would he do that? I think it was more likely that the deposition site was his way to get rid of the clothing and I think animal disturbance has caused the knife to be moved, especially as it has soil on it. But I don’t completely reject the possibility it could have just been chucked away by him.’

‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying, boss? That he wanted to be caught?’ Branson asked.

Grace shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘I’m confused.’

Lorna Dennison-Wilkins looked equally bemused.

‘Join the club,’ Grace said. ‘None of this is making sense. Was it buried or was it thrown away?’

The DI looked at his watch. ‘Boss, I’ve got to get back to HQ to meet Mark Taylor for the surveillance briefing. If we leave now, I’ve just got time to drop you back home.’

‘I’ll come to the briefing with you. We can spend some more time here. I want to take a further look round.’

‘On your own?’

‘No, come with me.’

Grace, followed by Branson, walked further into the woods. They became increasingly dense, all paths a tangle of nettles and brambles, with dubious-looking mushrooms and toadstools free-standing or attached to tree trunks.

Finally, Branson, looking at his watch, said, ‘We really need to head back, boss, for Mark Taylor. It’s after 3 p.m.’

Grace nodded.

‘Any conclusions?’

‘No. You?’

Branson shook his head. ‘Right now I’m all out of conclusions.’

‘You and me both.’