‘I know, Annie, and I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘So where are you now?’

‘Well, that’s the thing. I’ve done something really stupid and I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’ll tell you when I see you. But right now you have to come and get me. Please, Annie. I’ve fucked up and I need your help.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

James spent some time at the crime scene taking notes and snapping photos on his phone.

He watched Charlie Jenkins being manoeuvred into a body bag while, at the same time, his dog was wrapped in a blanket. They were both carried away from the field to a waiting vehicle.

It was all done in a hurry in order to beat the bad weather that was predicted to hit the area soon.

The search of the field was proving fruitless. The snow had filled in any footprints that might have been left by the killer, and if the murder weapon was lying nearby it was going to take a huge stroke of luck to find it. What’s more, there were only a few hours of daylight left and there would be no point carrying on after dark.

James looked out beyond the field to a landscape festooned with low drystone walls. Thick clouds circled the peaks in the distance and the wind was blowing them towards Kirkby Abbey.

‘We need to wrap up here soon, guv,’ Stevens said, his voice tight. ‘I’ve lived in these parts long enough to know that we’re in for a bastard of a blizzard. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it’s on the way.’

James took a deep breath and held it for a moment before speaking.

‘How bad is it likely to get?’ he asked.

Stevens released a thin whistle from between his lips.

‘Put it this way,’ he said, in what James sensed was a patronising tone. ‘In London, a fierce snowstorm would almost certainly have zero impact on a murder investigation. The roads would stay open, there’d be no problem reaching suspects to interview them, and you’d have a plentiful supply of officers to call on for support. But here, everything can grind to a halt. Roads get blocked by snowdrifts, phone lines can be disabled and trying to get to remote villages such as this one can be a frigging nightmare.’

It felt to James as though his DS had just taken great pleasure in talking to him like he was a clueless outsider, which was how Stevens had viewed him since he’d arrived at Kendal HQ and got in the way of the guy’s promotion. James just hoped that he didn’t persist with the attitude since this was the first time they’d worked together on a major case.

But what he’d said had given James something to think about. Since he had moved to Cumbria the weather had been cold but stable. And he had never experienced severe storms during previous visits. But he’d heard how bad it could get and Annie had told him how the village had often been cut off when she was a child.