Gillard clicked through the photographs until he saw what Quoroshi was referring to and agreed the Home Office forensic pathologist would be captivated by these unusual injuries. There were two or three images of a kind of a mesh pattern, pressed deeply enough into the corpse’s shoulders, chest, buttocks and legs to leave deep bruises. Quoroshi’s idea about a net was compelling. The impressions were all across the man’s body, even on his sides. It was as if he’d been wrapped tightly. Gillard could buy that – except for one thing.

Where was the net? And who cut him out?

Those distinctive injuries put paid to any hope that this case would not require his attention. One, if it was an accident, it was certainly a weird one. Two, most accidents happen to those wearing clothing. Three, no one had so far reported him missing. He decided to try to get some of his paperwork done on some of the other incomplete cases, to prepare for the inevitable call from Chief Constable Alison Rigby telling him to drop everything for the new case. Rigby had come to the job three years ago, bringing a stellar reputation from the National Crime Agency. Part of the new wave of assertive female senior officers, she had an unerring eye for detail, and a keen political antenna that few of the old-school men seemed to have. She demanded utter dedication from her subordinates, but it was nothing she had not done herself. Rigby worked phenomenal hours and would back her officers to the hilt if she was sure they were in the right. If they weren’t, she was terrifying to behold, aided by her six foot one height. Gillard got on well with her, and the respect was mutual, but he wasn’t immune to the frisson of fear felt by all officers in her commanding presence.

Gillard checked his watch. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock, and there was a lot he could get done by mid-morning, assuming he was left alone to do it. But he had barely opened the first page of the domestic violence case when Rigby rang him from her home number.

She’d clearly been looking at the same CSI pictures that he had.

‘Craig, I know you’ve got a lot of preparation to do for some other cases, but I do want you to take a look at this for me. We’ve been lucky in that Dr Delahaye will be free to begin the post-mortem this afternoon.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ His instinct had been right. But at least an early glimpse at the corpse from an expert should quickly answer some of the questions.