The grass on Mildenheath Common was a yellowing colour. The scorching summer had been particularly unkind to it that year, with the inevitable hosepipe ban having come into force in mid-July.
As they crossed the grassy area from the gravel car park to the crime scene, Wendy couldn't help but smirk at the horror that Luke Baxter was about to experience. The warm weather would make the smell even worse, even if the death was fairly recent. The putrefaction would usually begin a few hours after death, with the organisms in the digestive tract multiplying and producing gases and odours. In this weather, though, that’d happen even quicker. During particularly hot periods, an adult human could become a skeleton in two to four weeks.
Upon reaching the body, the foul, pungent smell hit Wendy like a ten-tonne truck, and Luke Baxter even worse.
‘You all right, Luke?’ Wendy asked innocently.
Wendy could see Baxter's face turning a pale shade of green before her very eyes.
‘Yeah, fine. Just a bit… you know. The weather and that. Bit pongy.’
‘I’m sure you'll be fine.’
The body lay lifeless on the ground, just as Ella Barrington's had. Her body had started to swell — a sure sign that putrefaction was well under way, and her face was crawling with maggots.
‘He's had a right good go at her, guv,’ a man in a white suit said.
Wendy never ceased to be amazed at the specialist talent of some of the SOCO boys — stating the bleeding obvious.
‘We can see that. What have we got?’ Culverhouse asked.
‘You'd be better off asking what we haven't got. She's been suffocated, strangled, and her throat has been slashed. Sound familiar? Someone wanted this woman dead, and they weren't going to mess about with it.’
‘What else do we have?’
‘Well we're pretty sure that it's the same guy who did Ella Barrington, if you ask me. Which, of course, you didn’t. There are a number of patterns that link the two. I'd go out on a limb to say they’re definitely linked.’
‘Fantastic. You always know how to brighten my day, you SOCO lot. Tell me more about these patterns.’
‘Well, there's still a lot we need to look at. I can tell you that the killer was almost definitely right-handed.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘See these slash marks? You can see the entry point of the knife and the way the pressure has been applied. We can tell from the knots, too, on the ropes tied to her wrists and ankles. They were almost definitely tied by a right-handed person.’
Wendy shot a wry smirk in Culverhouse's direction. It was met by a faint, but definite grudging nod of acceptance.
‘You noting this down, Baxter?’ Culverhouse asked.
No answer. Culverhouse spun around to where Luke Baxter had been standing. He was gone.
‘Fucking hell, that's all we need. Did anyone see him move?’
‘Nothing, guv. He was stood behind us all, so he could be anywhere.’
‘You're really helping, Knight. You're really fucking helping,’ Culverhouse said.
The officers split into three groups and spread across the common to look for Luke, while two SOCOs stayed at the crime scene. Wendy and Culverhouse were in a pair, and headed toward the wooded area at the edge of the common.
‘Permission to say I told you so, guv?’
Culverhouse's silence told Wendy everything she needed to know. As they approached the edge of the common, Culverhouse began to call out. Wendy could sense exasperation in his voice. Or was it desperation?
‘Baxter? BAXTER!’
Luke Baxter came jogging out of the copse in front of them.
‘Yeah? What is it, guv?’
‘Where the fuck have you been? We've got a sodding search party out for you!’
‘Sorry, guv. I, uh, wanted to explore the wider area a bit more. Get a feel for the crime scene, you know.’
Culverhouse's eyes moved towards the vomit stain on Baxter's jacket.
‘Got a feel of this morning's breakfast at the same time, did you?’ he asked.
Wendy was delighting inside as Baxter's face turned an impressive shade of red.
As they returned to the body, Culverhouse continued his conversation with the SOCO.
‘Right. Where were we?’
‘The interesting thing, Jack, is that the killer has made no attempt to conceal either this young lady's body, nor that of Ella Barrington. As you can see, we're wide out in the middle of the common. We'd usually expect to find a body buried or at least hidden in the undergrowth. It's almost as if he wanted her to be found.’
‘He?’ Wendy asked.
‘Oh, yes. We're almost certainly looking at a man. The brutality of the struggle is evident and, with the greatest respect, there's no way a woman tied knots like these.’
‘Do we have a positive ID yet?’ said Culverhouse.
‘Yep, she still had her bag and purse on her. It doesn't seem as though your man made any attempt to steal anything. She's Maria Preston. One of your men said she was a well-known local prostitute.’
‘We'll end up with a shortage if we're not careful.’ A ripple of nervous laughter followed Culverhouse's remark. ‘Right, well it looks as though we've got our biggest link yet. Two murders, two prostitutes. Any more theories, Knight?’