Jan squeezed out from the passenger door and cast a furtive glance at how close Caroline had parked to the hawthorn as branches scraped against the paintwork.
A fine drizzle misted the air around her, clinging to her hair and face and soaking the hedgerow and long grass that feathered her trouser hems.
Up ahead, the rest of the lane had been blocked by Traffic division, a series of wooden sawhorses lined across the road with blue and white tape stretched between them.
In front of those, the approach to the crime scene was cluttered with two patrol vehicles, a dark panel van, and a coroner’s vehicle.
Beyond the tape, she could see a silver sports car parked awkwardly across the lane as if it had braked to a sudden standstill.
The flashing lights from the closest patrol vehicle tore through the pitch-black night and illuminated the bare branches of oak and beech trees that crowded over the narrow lane.
Everywhere she looked, there was a frantic sense of time already slipping away as the first responders paced out the asphalt beyond the tape, heads bowed while they walked side-by-side with their colleagues from the forensics team.
‘Sorry,’ Caroline said after watching Jan sidle along the car and then pause to pick out leaves from her hair. ‘I didn’t want to block the rest of the road in case anyone else turned up.’
Jan pulled at an errant tangle of plant life between her fingers, her lips twisting at the soggy mess she’d extracted before flicking it to the ground, unwilling to linger on what it might have contained.
‘No problem.’
She fell into step beside the younger detective, noting how Caroline still towered over her despite the heels she wore.
‘Any news about Mark’s case?’ Caroline said, slowing as they reached the first liveried car.
‘Not yet.’
‘Do you think Kennedy will make me go back to the smaller cases once he’s in the clear?’
Jan heard the note of panic in her colleague’s voice, and shook her head. ‘Both you and Alex have really impressed him these past few months, don’t worry.’
Caroline’s face brightened a moment under the strobing lights, then sobered as they took in the small group gathered a few metres ahead, heads bowed while a figure dressed head to toe in protective overalls knelt at the verge.
She cleared her throat. ‘Who do we speak to first?’
‘Nathan Willis – over there.’
Jan led the way towards the stocky uniformed constable with a clipboard in his hand, his brow creased while he completed all the documentation that Tracy, the team’s case manager, and her team would upload into the HOLMES2 database to record the start of the inquiry.
He looked up at the sound of their footsteps. ‘I wondered who they’d send out. Any news about…’
‘Not yet.’ Jan peered at his notes from the beam cast by the police car’s headlights, then blinked. ‘If you’ve got a torch handy, can you switch those off? One of us is going to get a headache at this rate.’
‘Oh. Sure.’ He reached into the car, flicked the switch, then looked up as a set of spotlights burst to life from behind the tape. ‘Looks like forensics are all set now anyway.’
‘What’ve you got so far?’ Caroline asked, shuffling closer to Jan so she could read over her shoulder.
‘A woman in her early twenties, found at seven-fifteen this evening by a Mr and Mrs Tillcott when they were driving home from that new gastro pub outside Wantage.’ Nathan grimaced. ‘I don’t think they’re going to be Mr and Mrs for much longer though, given the way they’ve been carrying on since we got here.’
Jan raised her eyebrows. ‘Anything to indicate it might’ve been a hit and run?’
‘Not at first look, no. Forensics plan to take swabs from their car’s bodywork just in case though. John Newton’s on shift with me tonight, and he’s taken a look at the radiator grille and the wheel arches.’ He held up a mobile phone. ‘We took photos too so I’ll upload those to the system as soon as I get a chance.’
‘Good. Okay, what else have you got?’
‘She’s definitely dead.’ The constable jerked his chin at the hooded figure at the verge. ‘I know the pathologist has to confirm that, but…’
‘Injuries?’
‘She’s had a bloody great whack to the back of the head.’ He swallowed. ‘Whoever did it, or whatever it was caused by, hit her hard enough that her eye popped out of its socket.’
‘Jesus.’ Caroline moved a few paces away, then turned back to him. ‘Any ID?’
The constable shook his head. ‘Once we realised she was dead, we didn’t want to touch her clothing until forensics were here and had a look.’
Jan handed back the card, before one of the CSI technicians beckoned to her from within the taped-off cordon. ‘Okay, thanks, Nathan. Looks like we’re needed.’