An hour later, 46 cups of tea and plates of biscuits had been distributed. Bodies filled the whole of the ground floor. Shannon searched in vain for a familiar face. The officer in charge of the case was Detective Superintendent Tom Mitchell. He was a smallish man of about fifty with a balding head, a carefully contrived comb-over and the aura of the fox in his eyes. Immediately she liked him. This guy was a villain catcher. He took three steps up the stairs and called the conference to order.
“Thanks everyone. Let’s sort out what we’ve got here. Female body in a ditch. No obvious violent r**e. Injuries are consistent with a road traffic accident. Blood on telegraph pole and fence post. Grazing along one side of body indicates that she landed with some speed. What do we think we’ve got he
