‘Right.’ Barrett stood looking up at the stiff body that hung from one of the old beams in the ceiling.

‘Who else has been in here?’ he asked, walking around in a circle to get a look at the body from all sides.

‘Only me, sir.’ The officer did everything she could to avoid looking at the corpse.

‘Good. Keep it that way.’ Barrett stopped and bent down to inspect the floor.

‘What is it, sir?’ Palmer asked, pulling the scarf down from over his mouth and nose.

‘Marks, look here.’ Barrett removed a pen from his grey suit jacket and pointed at the scuffs and a puddle on the ground. ‘Make sure SOCO get a picture of this,’ Barrett barked, standing upright and returning the pen to his inside pocket.

‘Yes, sir,’ the officer responded.

‘How did he get up there?’ Palmer asked, following the rope from its position around Wade’s neck, up to the rafters and then down the staircase on the left side of the room where it was tied.

‘Who put him up there, you mean,’ Barrett corrected his colleague. ‘Very good question.’ His face was the same shade of grey as his suit. ‘As soon as we have an address for the victim we’ll pay a visit to his wife.’ Barrett turned to Palmer who nodded gravely.

‘I’ll go and speak to the girl who found him.’ Palmer was keen to get away from the crime scene and the lifeless, hanging body.

The skin around the dead man’s neck was raw and the thick rope cut into it. Palmer could also see that the corpse had soiled himself. The scent of ammonia in the air was unmissable, as was the puddle on the floor beneath the body.

‘That’s no way to go,’ Palmer shook his head, muttering under his breath as he left the shop on his way to interview the woman who had made the discovery.

When Palmer opened the rear door on the passenger side of the car, he was surprised by the age of the woman he found. He’d been expecting someone older, someone dusty-looking, but Matilda Edgely was young and, under other circumstances, could be called attractive. Palmer had to admit he didn’t spend much time in bookshops but, if he had, he would have not been expecting to be served by her. The name Matilda he associated with an older woman.

‘DI Palmer. You’re Matilda, I gather?’ He bent down on his haunches and introduced himself to the frightened looking woman.

‘I can’t believe it.’ Her eyes were wide, and she appeared like a deer in the headlights.

Poor kid, Palmer found himself thinking, despite the fact he was only fifteen years her senior.