“LEWIS,” STEVENS GREETED his subordinate sombrely when Mitchell had finished questioning Jonathan Farrell and his girlfriend.
“Sir,” Mitchell returned the greeting. With a barely concealed look of distaste he glanced around at the crowd that was being kept to the edge of the yard by his constables. He didn’t like that so many people had come from all over the village – he liked it less that so many people had found out so quickly about the discovery that had been made – it didn’t seem right to him that they should express their curiosity in such a way, especially when their presence was likely to get in the way of his investigation. “Isn’t there anything we can do to get rid of them?” he asked.
Stevens glanced over his shoulder to see who Mitchell was referring to. “I don’t think so,” he
