‘Sorry, sarge, it was an accident,’ he said sheepishly as he put out his hand to help her up.

She flicked it away and got up. ‘Look at the state of me. I’m covered in bloody mud.’

‘I’ll pay for your clothes to be dry cleaned,’ he said, looking crestfallen.

‘Too bloody right you will!’ she barked as she shook her mud-covered hands in an effort to get some of it off. ‘Do you have a sink and hot water in the Portakabin?’ she asked Dermot.

‘No, but there’s a cold-water hose outside that’s linked to the main supply up at the flats. We’ve got some loo roll in the cabin you can use as well.’

‘That will have to do for now.’

‘Can I have the brolly?’ Boon asked, not wanting to get soaked as he returned to the car.

Jane headed back to the Portakabin without replying.

‘I’ll take that as a no,’ Boon muttered to himself.

‘Bloody hell, what happened to you, detective?’ Lee asked.

‘Her mate slipped and knocked her over. She nearly fell in the footings trench,’ Dermot said as he handed Jane a toilet roll.

‘You all right, officer?’ Lee asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, forcing a smile.

Jane did her best to wipe the mud off her coat using scrunched-up sheets of the toilet roll dipped in hot water from the kettle, but her efforts only seemed to make things worse.

‘Is the land you are working on part of the old convent?’ she asked Lee.

‘Yes. We’re building more flats,’ he replied as he handed her a mug of coffee.

‘Thanks. What was on the land before you started?’

‘Nothing, apart from the fire-damaged outbuildings, which we’ve yet to demolish.’

‘Do you know if the land you are building on was ever a graveyard or consecrated ground?’

‘If it were, I doubt the developer would have got planning permission,’ Lee said.

‘Is he aware of this morning’s discovery?’

‘I tried ringing him at his office, but he was out at another site, so I left a message with his secretary.’

Jane removed her notebook and pen from her coat pocket. ‘I’ll need the developer’s name and contact number, please.’

‘It’s Nicholas Durham. His office is in Bromley, next door to Biba’s nightclub.’ Lee handed Jane a piece of headed paper embossed with THOMAS DURHAM AND SON BUILDING DEVELOPERS, 27 WIDMORE ROAD, BROMLEY, TELEPHONE 014673281.

‘I take it Nicholas is the “son”,’ Jane said.

Lee nodded. ‘Tom Durham started the company, but he’s sort of retired now, and Nick runs it.’

‘Do the Durhams own the land or are they just doing the building work?’

‘Tom Durham bought the old convent and land years ago and turned it into high-quality apartments. Now he’s building some more.’

‘Were you involved in the initial build as well?’ Jane asked out of curiosity.

‘No, I came on board after that, but I’ve been working for them a few years now.’

As Jane wrote some notes, Boon returned to the Portakabin. He told her he’d brought the CID car round and let her know the duty sergeant had spoken with the coroner’s officer, PC Rogers.