A PC was stationed on the perimeter, and he nodded Fleet and Nicky through. There were one or two scenes of crime officers milling about in the cordoned-off clearing, but most of the activity appeared to be happening inside the tents. There were three: two staging areas, Fleet guessed, and one larger structure covering up whatever had been found. He looked around for the person in charge, then paused when he heard a noise he hadn’t been expecting. It was singing, he realised. High and sweet, and drifting melodically from the chapel.

‘Rob? Jesus Christ, Rob. When the hell did you get so fat?’

Fleet closed his eyes at the sound of the approaching voice.

‘No, wait, let me guess,’ the voice went on. ‘It was when the divorce came through. I went through the same thing myself. Your wife leaves you, and all of a sudden Deliveroo becomes your mistress. But hey, you’ve got to get your hugs from somewhere, am I right?’

‘Randy,’ said Fleet, turning, and with as much of a smile as he could muster. ‘I didn’t know this was one of yours.’

‘It wasn’t supposed to be,’ said Randolph Green, snapping off a latex glove and extending a hand. ‘But Kathleen called in sick, so now it is. Lucky for you, old friend.’

They shook hands, and Fleet gestured towards Nicky. ‘Do you know Detective Sergeant Nicola Collins?’

‘Sure, I know Nicky,’ said Randy, giving Nicky’s hand a pump, too. ‘What’s the story, Detective Sergeant? He’s got fatter and you’ve got thinner. Has Rob here been stealing your lunch money?’

Nicky smiled – with genuine warmth, Fleet noted. ‘And pulling on my pigtails,’ she answered.

Randy grinned. He was a big man himself, a match for Fleet in height if not in weight. It had been several years since Fleet had worked with the forensic pathologist, but Randy in fact looked trimmer than ever – despite being more than a decade Fleet’s senior.

‘We were told you’d found a body, Randy,’ said Fleet, drawing in his stomach. ‘I didn’t know it was because you were out here digging up graves.’

‘It certainly does look that way, doesn’t it?’ said Randy, casting around. ‘But wait until you see what we’ve actually found.’ Once again he looked Fleet up and down. ‘Although it’s going to be a bit of a squeeze, I’m afraid.’

Fleet frowned, and Randy tipped his head. ‘Come take a look-see,’ he said.

They followed the pathologist to the main tent. There was nothing inside but a hole in the ground – and a stone stairwell in the shadows leading down.

‘What on earth …’ said Fleet. He turned to see Randy watching him.