Jamieson coughed and muttered for a few moments, and Fry thought she’d probably offended him. Then he began to prevaricate, like a defendant in the dock when asked a particularly probing question.

‘We don’t want to make a mistake with this one, Sergeant, so we’re not going to jump to any conclusions. There was no skull present, as you know. And in the absence of the skull, it’s much more difficult to provide a definite identification of human bones. Some of these remains are fragmentary, so … Well, we propose to carry out precipitin tests.’

‘Precipitin tests?’

‘It’s the only way to determine species.’

Fry could hear her own voice getting louder as she lost patience. ‘What exactly are you telling me, Doctor?’

‘I’m telling you that I can’t tell you anything until we’re absolutely certain,’ snapped back Jamieson.

It wasn’t clear which of them slammed the phone down first. When the door of the CID room opened, Fry looked up angrily, ready to take out her irritation on the first person she saw.

But it was DI Hitchens. He walked slowly into the room, like a man suffering a living nightmare.

‘Diane,’ he said, ‘we’ve got another body. And this time it’s a fresh one.’

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Ravensdale woods were silent. The damp foliage muffled every sound, except for the rushing of the stream somewhere below. It had been raining all morning, and once he was past Ravensdale Cottages, Cooper found the muddy track covered in stones, leaves, dead branches, and all the other debris washed down by the rain.

At Litton Foot, Cooper walked slowly through the long grass of the paddock and paused by the abandoned car. Tom Jarvis stood at the door of the house, watching him but saying nothing. He was trying to weigh up in his mind why Cooper was here again, and he was taking his time about it.

‘Good morning, Mr Jarvis,’ said Cooper. Wiping a layer of mould from the glass of the car’s windscreen, he peered inside. Then he moved to the boot. ‘Is it all right if I take a look, sir?’

‘Be my guest,’ said Jarvis. ‘Don’t mind me.’

The dogs had noticed Cooper now, and they came lumbering around his feet as he lifted the boot lid. Water had leaked through the seals, and the spare wheel sat in several inches of water in the well. He slammed the boot again, and moved on to the chest freezer. It opened with a sucking of rubber, and he knew he’d find nothing inside, except more mould coating the aluminium sides.

Without a word, Jarvis walked towards the old trailer and let down the ramp. The wooden floor had rotted, and the nearest wheel arch was corroded into more holes than a lace handkerchief.

‘See anything interesting?’ said Jarvis. ‘Or is it just routine?’

Cooper held his hand out for the dogs to sniff, and they wagged their tails.

‘Mr Jarvis, I understand you once worked for the funeral directors, Hudson and Slack.’