‘None of those poor creatures were fighting-dogs. I couldn’t establish all the breeds, but there are thirteen bodies down there in total, all ages, and most of them, if not all, were once probably household pets. They could have been used as bait, I suppose, but I didn’t see any obvious indication. No, I’m sorry to say that the perpetrators of these crimes are very human.’

‘You said some of them were despatched by strangulation?’ Lucy said.

‘Four of them, yes. I’d hazard a guess that the ligature in each case was the same, or at least the same type of implement. A thin cord … something like a wire.’ She grimaced. ‘One of them, a French bulldog, had had its spine severed with a heavy, sharp-bladed instrument. An axe or cleaver, or a big knife. I’ll be honest, I can’t for the life of me work out what was going on here.’

‘I assume they were all burned afterwards?’ Lucy said.

‘Yes.’ The vet glanced back at the tent. ‘This is a deposition site. I imagine they were cluttering up someone’s garage or outside shed for a while, until the decision was made to get rid of them altogether. The smell probably became a problem. By the looks of it, whoever’s responsible used insufficient petrol. Most likely it was rain that put the fire out again. In addition, of course, flames don’t eat their way downward. Instead of throwing these remains into a hole, whoever did it should have built them into a bonfire.’

‘How recently do you think this happened?’ Lucy asked.

‘I’m not an expert, but none of these animals died more recently than a couple of weeks ago, I’d say. You’ll want something on paper, I’m assuming?’

‘And as soon as possible, if that’s okay.’

‘Tomorrow morning?’

‘That’d be great. Just email it through, if you don’t mind.’ Lucy handed over her card.

The vet pocketed it before squatting down and packing the rest of her equipment into a hold-all. Having done her job, she now seemed eager to be off. She zipped the bag closed and trudged away, nodding once, curtly, as she passed them.

‘You’ll be okay out here?’ Lucy asked, at they stared again at the darkened tent.

‘Gonna have to be,’ Peabody replied.

‘Got juice in your radio?’

‘Should have enough to get me through till three, yeah.’

‘Any real problems, call me? Doesn’t matter what time it is.’

Peabody still looked disgruntled. ‘I’ll be fine. Like you say … I can use the overtime.’

‘One thing, officers,’ a voice behind them called. They turned. The vet was halfway up the slope but had clearly had an afterthought. She walked back down a few yards. ‘I’m not sure when it was that CID began investigating animal deaths. But I’m glad the police are taking this seriously.’