‘Is it possible the body wasn’t dumped there, but was washed up from elsewhere? It could’ve been put in the water at a far more remote spot,’ Sara Henshaw said.

Caroline shook her head. ‘No chance. I saw the body. It was too fresh. It would’ve sunk before it reached Normanton, and only floated later. And from the way it was laid out on the rocks, I just can’t see it. It was almost perfectly arranged. Not to mention bone dry. Tell me it’s a coincidence that a body just happened to be left on the rocks outside the church on a Sunday morning, in full crucifixion pose, facing the altar.’

Much to Caroline’s expectation, no-one challenged that point.

‘So,’ she said, changing the subject, ‘we need to see who we can speak to. Find out who his fellow councillors are. See if there were any disagreements on that front, who his enemies were, who would’ve wanted him dead. Get onto his phone records. Aidan, can you get phone triangulation on his last known movements, please? We need to find out where he went and how he got there. Let’s get a list of those colleagues at the construction company, too.’ Aidan Chilcott was quiet, but diligent. Ever since she’d arrived in Rutland, Caroline had strongly suspected Aidan had a thing for Sara, but that was something everyone else seemed completely oblivious to.

‘Sara, find out the wife’s plans,’ she said. ‘We’ll need to speak to her, too.’

‘Alright,’ Dexter said. ‘We’ll get right onto it.’

‘No you won’t,’ Caroline replied, picking up her notebook. ‘You’re coming with me.’

6

Caroline led Dexter through to her office — in reality, a poorly-partitioned corner of the room, whose door rattled every time anyone walked past or opened the main CID suite door — and sat down at her desk.

‘Something the matter?’ he asked her, confused by her brusque tone at the end of the morning briefing.

‘No, why?’

‘Just wondered. You wanted to see me?’

‘Yes, take a seat. You’re making the place look untidy. I wanted to find out a bit more about the local area. You mentioned it was a bit of a hobby of yours, local history and whatnot.’

‘Got a bit of a passion brewing for local history, boss?’ Dexter said, smiling.

‘Not in the slightest,’ Caroline said, laughing. ‘But there could be a link with our man, and I want all angles covered. You said the church had been deconsecrated?’

‘Yeah. Early seventies, I think.’

‘I see. Tell me more.’

‘Well, you know about how Rutland Water was formed, right?’

She’d heard one or two people mention it in the time she’d lived in the area, but the details had been lost on her.

‘I think so. Remind me.’