‘Go on,’ Caroline said.
‘After death the heart stops beating, and the blood descends according to gravity. If you die on your back, for example, you end up with some lovely purple bruising all over the back of your body. Now, when we look at our chap here, we see the vast majority appears on the backs of his legs, but there are signs of blood pooling on his left-hand side. Small, but noticeable. It seems to indicate to me he either died on his left-hand side or was laid on it shortly after, and was then moved into this sitting position.’
‘How long after are we talking?’ Caroline asked.
‘Difficult to say. Livor mortis can start in as little as twenty minutes, particularly in temperatures such as these. It might also mean the pooling on his left-hand side is more noticeable as a result. I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess, but considering the ambient temperatures there’s a decent chance he was moved within an hour of dying.’
Caroline nodded, trying to organise this information in her own mind. ‘So can we determine how long he’s been dead?’
Dr Duncan smiled. ‘I wondered how long it’d take before you asked me that. The million dollar question, eh? Well, the huge caveat here is the conditions. Temperatures were sub-zero overnight and still are. We had icy winds through the night, too. All that will have sped up the cooling of the body, but rectal temperatures are usually pretty accurate, even if he is sitting on frozen ground.’
‘Rather you than me,’ Dexter remarked.
‘To be honest, it’s nice to have somewhere warm to pop your hands for a few moments. In the case of our customer over here, rigor mortis is heavily apparent. We’d usually expect to see that level of onset over the first twelve hours or more, but again, look at the conditions. If you chucked a leg of lamb in the freezer you’d expect it to stiffen up pretty quickly, and human meat’s no different. It’s likely we’ve got some freezing of the bodily fluids and fat tissues adding to the stiffness. Not that there’s much fat on him. Looks like he was in pretty good shape.’
‘Would that have made a big difference?’ Caroline asked.
Dr Duncan shrugged. ‘Difficult to say. Not as much fat tissue to freeze, but he’d certainly cool down much quicker. Out here, I imagine rigor mortis would’ve been sped up somewhat.’
‘So are we talking overnight?’
‘It probably won’t surprise you that I wouldn’t want to put a specific time on it, but I’d probably be looking somewhere around there. Even from a non-scientific point of view, he’d have been spotted long before now if he’d been there during the day yesterday. The rectal temperature seems to indicate somewhere in the early part of the night, but I wouldn’t want to offer anything more specific just yet. Sorry.’
‘No. No, that’s fine. Thanks. Very helpful.’
Caroline and Dexter headed back towards the car, the bitter air cutting in through their clothes as they walked.
‘Got to say, I’m looking forward to a warm cuppa and a biscuit at Mrs Forbes’s house,’ Dexter remarked.
‘All that talk of rectal fingering got you peckish, has it?’
Dexter chuckled. ‘Something like that.’
‘Better hope that’s not her husband over there, then, hadn’t we?’ Caroline replied. ‘Otherwise I’m not sure PG Tips and a tin of Fox’s will be the first thoughts on her mind.’
5
Sandra Forbes’s house was an impressive farmhouse-style building on the far western edge of Seaton, bordered by a decent amount of open land. Caroline hadn’t been measuring the distance, but it seemed like a fair old run from here to the viaduct, especially in this weather.
With the gate to the house closed, Caroline bumped her Volvo up onto the kerb and came to a stop at the end of the drive. ‘Have to be careful how we handle this,’ she said. ‘Probably best we stick to the facts until we can get a positive ID, even though I think we both know which way this is going to go.’
Dexter smiled. ‘What, you don’t think there might be two slim middle-aged runners from Seaton who went out for a run last night and didn’t come home?’
‘I’m always one for keeping an open mind, Dex, but even I have my limits. Come on.’
As Sandra Forbes opened the door, she seemed to clock immediately they were police officers, and her demeanour changed.
‘Oh no. Oh no.’
‘Mrs Forbes? I’m Detective Inspector Caroline Hills, and this is my colleague Detective Sergeant Dexter Antoine. I believe you made a call to the police about your husband?’
‘Yes. Yes I did. You’ve found him, haven’t you? What’s happened?’
‘Is it okay if we come in?’ Caroline replied. They couldn’t be too cautious when it came to telling people their loved ones had died, especially when they were yet to confirm for definite that this was the case.
The house was tastefully decorated — a lot of light-coloured wood and large windows — and Caroline felt almost out of place delivering such bad news in these positive and airy surroundings.
‘Please. Please, can you just tell me what’s happened. Please don’t keep me waiting like this,’ Sandra said as they reached the living room.
‘We don’t yet know what’s happened,’ Caroline said. ‘A body has been discovered not far from Seaton, but we don’t know for certain that it’s Martin.’
Sandra’s face dropped, and Caroline could almost see her soul disappear from her body as she registered this. ‘What… what happened?’
‘I think it’s probably best that we confirm a few details first, if that’s okay? We don’t want to cause any undue distress if there’s any chance the body isn’t Martin.’
Sandra nodded slowly. ‘Okay.’
‘When did you last see Martin?’
‘Uh, last night. About half six. He gets home from work about quarter-to, eats, then goes out for a run.’
‘And what was he wearing?’
‘I told them all this on the phone. A blue running top with
