The Kill Call

we really got suspicious circumstances here, Diane?’
    She hesitated. The expense of calling in a Home Office pathologist was only justified when there was substantial evidence of suspicious circumstances, the proverbial foul play. The DI wouldn’t want to get caught out trying to justify the expense in the face of an ‘accidental death’ verdict by the High Peak coroner.
    ‘This body has no ID. That’s a good indication of suspicious circumstances in itself, isn’t it?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    Fry noted his reluctance. The decision was his at this stage, as the senior officer present. Personally, she had a strong feeling about the body in the field, but she was wary of talking about feelings. The notorious detective’s ‘hunch’ didn’t fit well with the pragmatic, evidence-based decision-making processes that came with the training. It sounded so old school.
    ‘All right,’ she said. ‘So he could have left his wallet and car keys at home, if he went out for a walk. He could have worn his nice new brogues instead of bothering to change into something more appropriate. I can see that’s possible. But why wouldn’t he have taken a mobile phone?’
    ‘He could have walked out of the house in the middle of a row with his wife. Slammed the front door without picking up his keys or phone, and decided not to go back for them.’
    Fry turned away. ‘Done that yourself, too, have you?’
    ‘What did you say, Diane?’
    ‘Nothing, sir. I was just saying that it was more likely horse droppings than a cow pat. We’ve got hoof marks all over the scene.’
    ‘There’s your first line on a potential witness, then.’
    ‘Yes, I’m on to it,’ said Fry. ‘But without more resources out here, it’s going to be totally impossible to interview all the hunt supporters. Anyway, I’m convinced they’re just going to close ranks.’
    Fry thought of the SIOs’ mantra: What do I know now? What do I need to know? How am I going to find out? On the other hand, her most important question might be ‘How much are they going to let me find out?’
    ‘Think of another approach,’ said Hitchens.
    She sighed. ‘We could round up the sabs. There aren’t anywhere near as many of them.’
    ‘There you go, then. Anyway, a confirmed ID is your first priority.’
    ‘Naturally.’
    The DI studied her for a moment, and waited until a SOCO passed out of earshot.
    ‘Are you all right, Diane?’ he said.
    ‘Yes, sir. Fine.’
    ‘Good.’
    It was well known that Hitchens had been asking everyone in CID if they were ‘all right’, ever since the arrival of the new detective superintendent. Probably it was a form of caring for staff morale.
    ‘An ID by tomorrow then,’ he said. ‘Top priority.’
    ‘It’s early days, sir.’
    ‘Of course. Early days.’
    Fry watched Hitchens walk back to his car, his job done for now. He could go back to his paperwork at the office until another major operational decision was called for.
    But he was right, of course. They couldn’t get a serious enquiry under way until there was an ID on the victim. An identification would come one way or another – possibly through a missing-person report, maybe through fingerprints or DNA, if the victim had a criminal record. If not, then a trawl around the available dental records, or more likely a tip-off from a member of the public when the media appeals went out.

    That all took time, of course. It could be months, if not years, if they had to rely on appeals and bulletins to other forces around the country. And sometimes with an unidentified body, it was more than months and years – it was never. There were old cases lying on the files where no ID had been achieved after five or ten years, or more. Those were the victims with no family or friends to come forward and claim them, people who appeared to have no available lives to be pieced together.
    Fry shook her head. The man in the field surely wasn’t one of those. This victim was no homeless vagrant, nor a runaway teenager or illegal immigrant. She was convinced he must be a man with a house somewhere, a job, a car, a bank account. There was probably a wife expecting him home, row or not. Or at least a pet waiting to be fed. Someone would have missed him when he didn’t come back last night, colleagues would notice that he wasn’t at work today. Even if he was a solitary tourist, his holiday would be due to finish some time. It was unfeasible that he could stay unidentified for