Free Hot Blood (Bloodwords Book 1) by Vic Marelle Page B

American TV programmes – oh, the power of TV. The
man turned to the approaching Davies. ‘Inspector, I wish you had closed this
area off and called us in yesterday when the body was found.’
    ‘We didn’t know that it was a murder scene then
son.’
    ‘Quite. Debbie has explained all that. But with
the scene having been unprotected for over a day, any number of people could
have been here so anything we turn up could be quite unrelated to your crime.
In any case, it’s hard enough getting shoe prints or other giveaway signs.
These trees are like a big umbrella over the whole place and the earth is dry
and springy anyway. I am going through the motions but I am wasting my time.
And we are short staffed as well.’
    ‘Point taken,’ Davies conceded, ‘We desperately
need a lead on this. Though, We don’t even know who the poor blighter is yet,
Anything might help, big or small.’
    ‘It’s a pity he wasn’t dumped further out, say
near where the path starts. The path itself is gravel but after the rain we had
a few days ago you’ve got to go through some mud and soft ground where the cars
have been parked so we might have got something from there.’
    ‘And don’t I know it’ responded Davies. ‘I
ruined a pair of decent shoes the first time I came – and look at me now
for God’s sake; slutched up again and mud all over my
suit.’
    ‘Well, you’ve been before so you should have
known to dress for the conditions.’ Turning to the sergeant he added, ‘Like
Debbie.’
    He was right of course. The sergeant was, as
usual, kitted out immaculately in the appropriate clothes for the occasion. In
the office she had been wearing an immaculately laundered blouse tucked into
perfectly styled trousers with a knife-edge crease. The ensemble was tight
where it should be tight and loose where it should be loose, drawing attention
to her perfect figure. Her shoes had heels high enough to add to the elegant
image yet low enough to enable her to glide across the room. Yet not only had
she managed to beat him out to the old ruin, she had also found time to change
into outdoor gear. Her Rockport boots had a slight smear of tan coloured mud
along the welt, but other than that, her Timberland trousers and Berghaus all-weather jacket looked as though they could
have been lifted straight from the shop rail. How did she do that? Smart arse.
    Turning to the sergeant he indicated the
remains of a small wall. ‘Were the couple on the other side of this wall?’
    ‘No. The path from the farmyard goes along
there so it’s a bit open for what they were doing if you see what I mean.’
Pointing to the adjacent wall that was a full storey high punctuated by what
had once been a multi panel mullioned window she added, ‘They were on that side
over there.’
    ‘They’d never have seen him then,’ replied
Davies. ‘The sills of the old window are chest high at least so if they were
down on the ground having it off there’s no way they could have seen anything
this side of the wall.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said the sergeant. ‘But
apparently they hadn’t got that far, they were still at the kissing and
cuddling stage. I’ve been over there and checked it out because she is about my
height, and from what they say the lad was actually leaning with his back
against the window so the girl would have been facing in. The ground is a
little higher the other side of the wall and since the lad had managed to get
her blouse and bra off, had our deceased friend still been alive he could
indeed have got an eyeful. The doc thought that that might have been what
triggered the heart attack.’
    ‘But it wasn’t was it?’ replied Davies. ‘Makes
you wish you were young again doesn’t it? OK. So our couple are stripping off
and having a quick grope on the other side of that window, while on this side,
deceased is in a heap in the fireplace. If you can call it a room that is. Mind
you, we had to walk the full length of the room and on