‘A pity.’ Hitchens squeaked again, and Fry decided she’d bring in a can of Three-in-One for him tomorrow, if she could remember.

Then the DI sifted among the papers on his desk for a report.

‘What’s this?’ said Fry.

‘The second set of remains from the hillside near Ravensdale. All that fuss about lifting the skeleton and getting it to the lab intact, and it turned out it wasn’t intact in the first place.’

Fry held the report in her hand, reluctant even to look at it. ‘What do they say?’

‘The remains are mostly non-human. Apart from a few small bones, the majority are porcine in origin.’

‘What?’

‘It was part of a pig, Diane.’

She put the report back on the desk, placing it carefully among the other papers, as if she wanted to hide it, or pretend that she’d never heard of its existence.

‘What about Geoff Birley?’ she said.

‘We’re going to let him wait a bit longer, too.’ Hitchens hesitated. ‘Diane, we can’t place Birley anywhere near the locations where those phone calls were made. He can produce witnesses to his whereabouts on all three occasions.’

Fry sighed. ‘It doesn’t really surprise me. He never struck me as the type.’

‘Don’t forget to let DC Cooper know about any progress with McGowan, will you?’ said Hitchens.

‘Of course.’

‘Where is Cooper, by the way?’

‘He’s off duty.’

But Fry realized that it wasn’t actually an answer. On or off duty, Ben Cooper could still be working the case.

‘Fox House Farm,’ said Cooper when he got through to Fry on his mobile. ‘Remember it?’

‘In the plantation across the valley. What was it called?’

‘Corunna Wood. The Beatrix Potter book was a clue.’

‘What?’

‘The Tale of Mr Tod. “Tod” might mean death in German, but look at the cover of the book, Diane. I don’t know how I could have forgotten.’

‘Forgotten what?’

‘“Tod” is also the country word for a fox. That’s what Beatrix Potter’s Mr Tod is – a fox. And this is where he lives, at Fox House. Or rather, this is where he dies.’

‘Ben, I don’t really know what you’re talking about.’

‘Never mind. But I think I’ve found your dead place.’

‘You have? Is there any sign of Freddy Robertson?’

‘His BMW is parked near the Slacks’ house.’

‘And the Slacks themselves?’

‘Nowhere to be seen. You’ve been to Robertson’s place, Diane – have you seen any sign that he possesses a firearm? Maybe a shotgun?’

‘No. But, Ben – you say you’ve found the dead place?’

Cooper looked at the skull. The skeleton lay inside a limestone building, exposed to the air, not so much as a shred of desiccated flesh left on its gleaming bones. Something had picked it perfectly clean. Something that might be called a flesh eater.

‘Yes, Diane. I think this is it.’

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five