Dead And Buried

‘Yes. Both suffered head injuries. The male victim has a number of other contusions and abrasions on various parts of his upper body, and notably on his hands. He also has some internal injuries, including a couple of broken ribs.’

‘Were there any signs of bite marks?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the pathologist. ‘At first I assumed some scavenger had got access to the bodies. A fox or something of the kind. But I’m not sure about that. The disrupted pattern of decomposition makes an assessment more difficult, but I’d say the bite marks seem to have been ante mortem. Before death.’

‘Thank you,’ said Fry.

Mrs van Doon looked at her slightly askance, as if she wasn’t accustomed to being thanked for information like that.

‘As for the female,’ she said, ‘she shows fewer signs of injury, and those seem to be mostly post mortem, except for one major trauma at the base of the skull. It looks to me as though your male has been in a fight and come off worst. The female victim — well, from the nature and position of the fatal injury, it’s consistent with a fall.’

‘A fall?’

‘Yes. A fall backwards, with the head striking a solid object.’ The pathologist demonstrated with a slap of a hand to the back of her own neck. ‘Not the floor — a piece of furniture, perhaps, or a window ledge.’

She paused, watching Fry’s reaction for a moment.

‘In fact, Sergeant, my opinion is that this woman might have survived the injury if she’d received prompt medical attention. Which, evidently, she didn’t.’

29

When Cooper and Villiers returned to the Light House, the scene seemed almost deserted. Cooper looked around for a scene guard, but saw no one. A forensics van was in the car park, and a marked Corsa stood at the corner of the building, with no driver in sight. The only sound was the crack and rustle of crime-scene tape, like the bones of the dead pub rattling in the silence of the moor.

Cautiously he walked round the exterior of the building. Apart from the absence of a guard, something else felt wrong.

But then he came across the pile of old furniture stacked against the back wall of the pub. Heavy tables with metal bases, wrought-iron chairs, a heap of torn parasols on steel posts. It was obvious now that they covered the trap doors for beer deliveries into the cellar. In an open space nearby, someone had burned rubbish, but only a patch of charcoal and pale grey ashes remained.

Bending closer, Cooper pointed out one of the tables to Villiers.

‘This furniture has been moved at some time,’ he said. ‘Look, there’s thick mould on the bottom, while the upper surfaces are relatively clear. It must all have stood somewhere else, and it’s been piled up on the hatch.’

‘If they removed chest freezers from the cellar, they must have brought them out this way, rather than through the pub. Then they covered the hatch to keep it closed, or to prevent it from being seen.’

Cooper straightened up. ‘Yes, that seems likely. A couple of men could have done it, with a suitable vehicle. If only we could find where they dumped the freezers.’

Inside the pub, Liz Petty was still on her own, though she’d brought her gear back up from the cellar.

‘Liz, who’s supposed to be on scene watch?’ he said.

‘I can’t remember his name. He went off to have a brew with the firefighters. It’s dry work being up here for hours on end. I said it would be okay, since you and Carol were coming.’

‘All right, I suppose.’

‘Is something wrong, Ben?’

‘No, no. Everything’s fine.’

‘Sorry, this is a slow job on my own,’ she said. ‘I’m hoping to get some help later. I shouldn’t be single-handed, but you know what it’s like.’

‘Any results?’

‘Well, I can’t find any traces of blood in the cellar, so that’s not your primary crime scene, I’m afraid. Shoe marks and fingerprints all over the place. Sorry again. Unless you can turn up the actual freezers for me?’

‘No, but we need you upstairs, Liz. I think you’ll find your bloodstains up there, though there’s probably been a thorough clean-up.’

‘Not too thorough to beat me,’ said Liz cheerfully. ‘Not with my luminol and UV light. You’ll see me all lit up in a blue glow shortly. Which room in particular?’

‘One of the guest rooms on the first floor. Room One — they call it the Bakewell Room.’

‘No problem.’

She hesitated before picking up her case, and looked round to see if Carol Villiers was within earshot.

‘By the way, the venue is booked. I thought it was best to go ahead and confirm with them. Is that okay?’

‘Oh, yes. Fine. It was the perfect place. I loved it.’

‘I’m so glad.’

Her face lit up the way it always did when she was thinking about the wedding. The big day couldn’t come quick enough for Liz. He wondered how often she thought about it when she was at work. Was she figuring out the seating plan for the reception in her mind while she sprayed luminol in the cellar, looking for blood residue? Did brides-maids’ dresses take priority in her consideration over the lives of the two murder victims?