‘Up to his neck, sir,’ said Spike. ‘We had a lot come in last night, so he’s sent the troops instead. Cardiff is photographer, and I’m playing Prof Wilkinson — forensically that is, I won’t attempt the camp humour!’ He looked at the body. ‘Oh! A garrotting. I haven’t had one of these since training. And this one’s textbook: straight line ligature mark, probably far more force applied than necessary — common in garrottings.’ He stood up. ‘Okay, Cardiff, go for it. Special attention to the ligature mark, and his hands as well. He might have grappled with the killer and got some hair or skin under his nails.’

‘You got it,’ said Cardiff. ‘And there’s quite a bit of damage to the foliage around the site. Ah, I think I see a footprint. I’ll get that for sure.’

‘He’s trained you well,’ Marie said, impressed.

Beneath his mask, Spike smiled. ‘Right, and this is the point where you ask about time of death, and I—’

‘Faff around and keep us guessing — yeah, I know the routine,’ said Marie. ‘So how about you just give us your guesstimate and we can all save time.’

‘From the general appearance, I’d say somewhere between midnight and two a.m.’

‘Thank you, Spike. That didn’t hurt too much, did it?’

‘Just don’t tell the prof that I caved in so easily. He’ll be disappointed in me.’

‘My lips are sealed,’ Marie said.

While Jackman half-listened to their banter, his thoughts kept straying to Laura’s patient. Was he dangerous? In what way? He forced himself to concentrate. ‘So, that ties in with when Miss Armstrong heard what she thought was a hedgehog in the garden.’ He turned to Spike. ‘You’d say he died here, would you? Exactly where he’s lying now?’

‘No doubt about it, sir,’ said Spike. ‘No drag marks, nothing. He was waiting in the shrubbery, watching the house, and his killer attacked him from behind. He struggled with the attacker, probably trying desperately to get his fingers under the wire, failed and asphyxiated. You can see the face is congested and there are conjunctival petechial haemorrhages in his eyes. He died very quickly.’

One consolation, Jackman supposed.

‘I’m surprised he went out at all, especially after being warned off by Stacey,’ said Marie. ‘To all appearances, he was terrified that he might get blamed for something the other man did.’

‘From what I’ve heard, it was an obsession with him,’ Jackman said. ‘He probably couldn’t help himself, and being cooped up with his mother got too much for him. I expect he never thought this other creep would go for him.’

‘How wrong he was.’ Marie glanced over at the cottage. ‘Better go and speak to Miss Armstrong. She’s probably a bit shaken.’