make is one involving the breakdown of his biological components into their constituent molecules. Of souls I know nothing.’
That was Nesbit through and through. He had once joked to Savage that the inscription on his gravestone would be ‘Observation, Hypothesis, Prediction, Experiment, Results, Conclusion.’ He dealt with cold bodies and cold facts with no place for emotion. Savage thought Nesbit’s approach admirable because it prevented the niggling little thoughts from burgeoning into nightmares. It washed away the doubt, the fear and the uncertainty from death in the same way his assistants would hose the blood from the dissection table after an autopsy. Only sterile, gleaming, stainless steel remained, a shining truth developed from scientific reasoning rather than from a figure on the cross. It left no room for tears and perhaps that was the point. Savage didn’t care much for religion either, but she knew such detachment wouldn’t work for her and already the emotion was rising within.
‘You’ve got some results on the girl?’
Nesbit sighed, paused, and with a theatrical flourish worthy of a RSC veteran he turned and dropped the piece of grit into a stainless steel kidney dish on a side bench. The bowl rang out a clear note that sounded quite haunting. Nesbit let the note ring for a second or so and touched the bowl to bring an end to the unknown man’s elegy. He put the tweezers down with a further flourish and turned to Savage.
‘Well?’ she asked.
‘Now, I found no sign of trauma causing death, externally or internally. You might be surprised to hear that, given the cut on the stomach we noticed at the scene, more of which later. I also discovered something quite fascinating, intriguing possibly.’ Nesbit moved over to another body, this one covered with a green cloth.
Savage went over to join him, hoping he wouldn’t need to lift the sheet, although she knew he would do so anyway.
‘Now, let’s see.’ Nesbit pulled back the cloth and revealed the girl’s naked body. He picked up a clipboard and read aloud. ‘Kelly Donal, eighteen. Height one hundred and-’
Savage winced, not at the doctor’s words, rather at the sight of the body. Kelly didn’t look so beautiful now, not with the rough, Y shaped scar running along her shoulders, down her chest and across her stomach. Nesbit’s assistant had sewn her up well enough, but the work wasn’t going to win any needlepoint prizes.
‘-point three kilograms. All in all a healthy young woman with no abnormalities and no worries.’ Nesbit cleared his throat. ‘Apart from being dead, of course.’
‘Time of death?’
‘Patience, Charlotte, patience.’ Nesbit scanned his clipboard again. ‘First, the cut we noted on the abdomen. Remember?’
‘I think you said the wound hadn’t bled.’
‘Yes. No blood because the incision happened post-mortem.’
‘You sure?’
‘Of course. The wound would have bled profusely had she been alive at the time. Even if the blood had been cleaned up externally, internally there would have been significant haemorrhaging.’
‘Your guess at the weapon?’
‘I deal in evidence not conjecture, as you well know, Charlotte.’ Nesbit bent his head and peered over the top of his glasses at Savage; a scolding glance, but a smile forming too. ‘However, I noted a small exit wound on the girl’s lower back meaning the instrument was pushed all the way through the girl’s body. Thus the evidence points to a thin, sharp blade approximately twenty centimetres long. ‘
‘Kitchen knife?’
‘Quite possibly, but I wouldn’t call the knife a weapon since the cut was made after she died.’ Nesbit flipped a page over on his clipboard and adjusted his glasses. ‘Now, you asked about the time of death?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, remember the core body temperature readings I took at the scene were not much use? The body was colder than the ambient air.’
‘Yes, I think we thought she might have been outside in the frosty weather.’
‘Right. Well I found some blowfly larvae up in the nasal cavity. I am no expert in the area, but I believe they are at the stage of development called first instars.’
‘I am guessing from my limited knowledge she hadn’t been dead long then.’
‘I don’t know. The maggots themselves are dead.’
‘You’ve lost me, Andrew.’ Savage was struggling to understand. ‘The maggots are dead?’
‘Yes, correct. It is possible the frost killed them, but I don’t think so. We will need to get some accurate weather data and I will contact a forensic entomologist to determine if my theory is possible.’
‘What theory?’ Savage was becoming exasperated and she wondered for a moment if Nesbit might be playing a game with her.
‘My hypothesis is Kelly Donal was frozen.’
‘What?’ Savage stared at Nesbit. ‘By the frosty nights?’
‘No, no. Not cold enough to kill the larvae. She was deep frozen. That would explain why they are dead and also the reason for the odd, puffy constituency and appearance to the skin, as well as the low core temperature I observed.’
‘Deep frozen? Like a pack of oven chips?’
‘Wouldn’t touch them myself, but yes.’
‘So we can’t know when she was killed?’
Nesbit seemed to ignore her and instead walked over to the lab bench at the side of the room. He pointed to a large glass jar and Savage tried to suppress a heave in her stomach at the sight of the grey lump within.
‘Kelly Donal’s brain,’ Nesbit said. ‘Before I return the brain to the skull cavity I will take some sections for analysis. I believe the cell structure will have been altered by the freezing process although I don’t think a method exists to tell us how long the body has been frozen. However, I have a couple of ideas that need a bit of work. I’ll get back to you on them.’
Nesbit returned to the body and bent forward and sniffed the torso, gesturing at Savage to do the same.
‘I found no other outward signs of insect infestation because the body has been washed at some point, you can smell the soap.’
Savage moved to the body and bent over. The girl’s left breast was a few inches away from her face and for a moment Savage found herself looking at the body through the killer’s eyes. Those curves, the flat, toned stomach leading to an enticing triangle of pubic hair, the smooth thighs and shapely calves. What man would pass up the opportunity to be close to such perfection? To kiss the body all over, to caress the skin, to wonder at the beauty and finally to penetrate it, afterwards holding the flesh close in the exhaustion of post-orgasmic bliss.
‘Charlotte?’
Savage snapped back into the awkwardness of reality, aware of Nesbit’s stare.
‘Yes, I think you are right. Soap.’
‘Now then, toxicology. I’ve dispatched some blood and hair to the lab to ascertain if there is any evidence of drugs or poisoning. There are some needle marks on her right and left arms, so she was a user, but my initial judgement is we won’t find anything in that arena responsible for her death. I believe she died of hypothermia.’
‘Exposure?’
‘Not in the sense of being outside. The freezing I talked about a moment ago? That was what killed her.’
‘She was frozen to death?’
‘I can’t say the manner of her death will bring any comfort to the family, but there are worse ways to go.’
‘But deep frozen…’
‘Yes, she would have been shut in a freezer. Alive. If you remember at the scene I showed you the lividity in the buttocks and thighs and concluded she had been in a sitting position.’
‘Oh God.’ Savage sometimes got claustrophobic in an aeroplane or if she was wedged under her sports car fixing something, but being shut in a small box and left to die was a horror of a different order of magnitude.
‘I am not finished yet, I’m afraid.’
She had hoped they were nearing the end, but Nesbit looked so pleased with himself she didn’t voice her
