James nodded in agreement. ‘We need to summon forensics and the pathologist right away. But by the time they get here, if they can get here, our victim could be under a foot of snow.’

‘Plus, the scene has already been seriously contaminated by the weather and us trampling all over it,’ Abbott said.

It was the uniform who was thinking on his feet and came up with a sound suggestion.

‘Mr Granger is bound to have some tarpaulin inside, or if not we can get a tent from the outdoor shop off the square.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ James said. ‘Tell him he’ll need to stay closed today and to keep this to himself for now, and find out who else works here. When you call the inspector, tell him he needs to protect this spot as discreetly as possible.’

James then returned to Abbott’s car to phone DCI Tanner, whose reaction was predictable.

‘This is the worst possible news,’ he said. ‘How bad do you think it will look when everyone knows that the killer struck while we were patrolling the village? It happened right under our fucking noses, for Christ’s sake.’

‘That’s not my number one concern at the moment, sir,’ James said, not caring if his words weren’t well received. ‘I just need to know how quickly you can send me backup and SOCOs.’

He heard Tanner take a breath before speaking again.

‘You’re right, of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll sort it and get back to you. Meanwhile ask DS Abbott to text or email the details over to me. I need to be ready when the media latches onto this.’

James instructed Abbott to forward the information to Tanner, including the victim’s identity and a photo of the body. He then pointed to the bungalow along the road.

‘After you’ve done that we’ll have to go and tell Ron Curtis that his only son is dead.’

CHAPTER SIXTY

It took a while for Ron to respond to the doorbell. When he did, he was wearing a robe over pyjamas and moaned that they had woken him up.

‘What is it you want now?’ he said. ‘It’s only just gone ten, and I was having a lie-in.’

‘We have to come in and speak to you, Mr Curtis,’ James said. ‘It’s about your son.’

‘If you just want to give him more grief you’ll have to come back later. He had a late night at the pub and I reckon he’s still spark out upstairs.’

‘We really do need to come in, sir,’ James insisted. ‘You see, Daniel isn’t upstairs because he didn’t return here last night.’

Ron’s face creased up. ‘How do you know? Has he been arrested or something?’

James felt the emotion grip his throat. He swallowed hard and said, ‘Daniel was the victim of a crime late last night, Mr Curtis. And it saddens me to have to tell you that he’s dead.’

The old man’s chest heaved suddenly, thirsty for oxygen.