GreensleevesSeeing them standing there like a pair of statues, rooted to the spot, William Nugent nodded his head in greeting and then, in a voice choking with uncharacteristic emotion, he spoke.
“Andrew my boy,” he began, and that was unusual in itself. The pathologist rarely, if ever used Ross"s first name, “You have to catch this monster, this fiend, before he can do anything like this again. I didnae think he could get any worse than what he did to poor Frances Daley, but I think ye can see, he"s degenerated even further.”
Ross saw most of what Nugent referred to, and as the normally unperturbable Francis Lees moved around the body to take more photographs, Ross could see tears in his eyes. This was bad.
“Dinna come any closer, please,” Nugent held a hand up. I dinna want anyone enc
