Free Head in the Sand by Damien Boyd Page B

looked at the label. ‘Witness Statements’. The first came from a member of the greens staff at the Royal West Norfolk Golf Club. He had found Dr Vodden’s severed head in a greenside bunker on the twelfth hole. Dixon did not think it odd that a greenkeeper had found it. They would usually be the first out on the course in the morning. It was clearly significant that it had been found on the twelfth hole and he placed the statement to one side to be photocopied. Next he found a statement from a dog walker who had found the burnt out car on Holkham Beach. He added it to the pile to be photocopied.
    ‘What’ve you got, Jane?’
    ‘Telephone call log. Nothing exciting.’
    Dixon turned back to the witness statements. He found a statement from Dr Vodden’s widow. She had last seen her husband that morning and knew of no one who might have wanted to kill him. There were several from other doctors at the surgery where Dr Vodden had been working. He had been there six months and was working as a locum. Dixon decided to photocopy all of the statements in the folder and set them to one side. He then added Dr Vodden’s NHS file to the pile to be copied.
    The next folder contained interview transcripts and was the thickest of the folders by some considerable margin. It seemed that any and every local man with a history of violence had been pulled in for interview. The investigation clearly lacked any significant leads, even early on, and any likely culprit was arrested and brought in. Dixon closed the folder and put it back in the box.
    He knew he would need to copy the contents of the third folder but opened it and read it anyway. It was the Home Office Pathologist’s report. He turned to the conclusions and read aloud.
    ‘Cause of death 1(a) Myocardial infarction caused by stab wound to the heart; and 1(b) Desanguination caused by laceration to the neck severing the carotid artery.’
    ‘What’s desanguination?’ asked Jane.
    ‘Massive blood loss. Listen to this,’ said Dixon. ‘The head was then severed from the body post mortem.’
    ‘Well, that’s no coincid...’
    ‘Significant contusion to the front of the neck consistent with restraint, possibly to the car seat headrest. Did car seats have headrests in those days?’
    ‘We’ll soon find out. What was he driving?’ asked Jane.
    Dixon flicked through the witness statements. ‘A Rover 3500.’
    Jane reached for her phone and opened the web browser. A quick search of Google images confirmed that the Rover 3500 did indeed have headrests.
    ‘This cannot be a coincidence,’ said Jane.
    ‘Did you ever think it was?’
    By 11.30am they had finished going through the boxes and had photocopied all of the documents and witness statements they thought remotely relevant. Dixon also kept two bound sets of photographs, hiding them in amongst his papers. He rang Alan Dentus, who arrived to show them out.
    ‘Do you happen to know if the widow is still alive?’
    ‘No, she died. I can tell you that. About ten years ago maybe.’
    ‘And the children?’
    ‘Didn’t know he had any.’
    Dixon and Jane signed out of Norfolk Police Headquarters and walked over to the Land Rover. Half an hour later they were driving north on the B1149.
    ‘You’ve gone the wrong way. We need the A140 for Cromer,’ said Jane.
    ‘We’re not going to Cromer, Jane.’
    ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘Holkham Beach.’
     
    Dixon turned off the A149 opposite Holkham Hall, home to the Earl of Leicester, and drove along Lady Ann’s Road. It was a tree lined avenue leading straight to the beach that was once the private beach access for the Hall. He parked on the grass verge at the end and let Monty out of the back.
    ‘C’mon, Jane. We’ve got time. We’re not due at Cromer till 2.30pm.’
    They walked out through the Nature Reserve and onto the beach. The tide was out revealing a vast expanse of sand, far bigger even than Berrow. An icy north wind was blowing onshore straight off the North