Free Hot Blood (Bloodwords Book 1) by Vic Marelle

the obviously scared girl: ‘And I won’t tell your mum
love. It looks as though the man died from a heart attack anyway so it will all
go quiet once we’ve handed everything over to the coroner. Your secret will be
safe but I need a statement first. It’s best done now so that you don’t need to
come down to the station.
    These two might be old enough to get up to some
fun and games in the woods but sure as hell they were showing their youth now.
Scared shitless wouldn’t be too strong a description thought the sergeant. And
scared of Mummy at that. More coffee was ordered and the grilling continued
    According to the couple they had gone to the
scout hut and bought a couple of paperback books. Then they had walked the half
mile to the hall. At first they had heard some talking the other side of the
ruin so had gone back to the farmyard to kill time in the café. When they returned,
apart from some birds in the trees it was quiet and they had the place to
themselves. They hadn’t seen the man arrive and hadn’t even realised that he
was there. Well, they wouldn’t would they? They had other things on their
minds. No, they didn’t see whoever they had overheard talking earlier leave the
woods either. Nor had they recognised the dead man – although his face
would now be forever etched in their memories.

 
    ……….

 
    ‘John missed it because there were no tell tale
signs apart from the eyes Frank. He mentioned that the cheeks were ruddy so I
expected a drink problem leading to the heart attack but there’s not a drop of
alcohol in him. His eyes were bloodshot so without the alcohol I’ve had to look
for another reason. We found it in the chest. It’s not a heart attack frank,
it’s asphyxiation.’
    Frank Davies’ mind was working overtime. The
case had been tied up. A young couple having a leg-over had found a middle-aged
man who had died of a heart attack while he had been watching them. Over excitement,
pure and simple. Natural causes. No problem. He had thought that the post
mortem would have been a foregone conclusion but now here was the forensic
pathologist phoning with an altogether different theory.
    ‘You sure doc?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh yes. The eyes were the giveaway but we
found a build up of carbon dioxide in the tissues and some bruising on the
chest that points not to a heart attack but asphyxiation.’
    ‘Strangled? But there were no marks’
    ‘No Frank, it’s not strangulation. When there
is a lack of oxygen to the brain for any length of time, and there are other
reasons for that as well as strangulation, lethal gases can build up and that’s
what seems to have happened here. It happens sometimes with sexual games when
it’s done temporarily for arousal but it’s bloody dangerous. You may remember
that a singer and a TV presenter both died that way some years ago. We call it
Auto Erotic Asphyxiation by the way.’
    ‘So this was a sexual prank gone wrong then?’
    ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t think that it
could be self-inflicted and with no ligature marks on the neck it is not the
usual sex game that can go wrong and end in strangulation either. No, in this
case, as well as the bloodshot eyes and carbon dioxide, there was bruising to
the chest that indicates that this is compressive asphyxia, or the limitation
of expansion of the lungs because of compression of the torso. Although it’s
like being crushed, actually the cause of death is being starved of oxygen.
There’s oil or grease in the gash on his head that I can’t identify until the
lab report comes back but this guy didn’t die of natural causes Frank.’
    Replacing the phone, Davies pondered the
surprising turn of events. Whoever the poor sod was he had carried no
identification and nobody fitting the description had been registered as
missing. There was absolutely no indication of the dead man’s identity.
    Leaning back in his chair and reaching up to
clasp his hands behind his head, Don Radcliffe looked