‘I’ve worked my way through most of the daffodils.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Yes, I’ve done quite a hit of work.’

‘Oh well, whatever. I’ve got some jobs for you.’

‘Fine.’

But Ben Cooper got that sinking feeling again. No job that Diane Fry had tor him would ever be something he could get excited about. He suspected he would be spending the rest of the afternoon chasing phone calls and shifting vet more

O 1 C” v

paperwork.

‘We need to put a name to the Snowman,’ said Fry.

‘The Snowman?’

‘One white male, unidentified.’

‘Right.’

‘And dead,’ said Murfm.

Cooper listened as Fry explained the details they knew, which weren’t many. Iherc had been no obvious identification on the man, though they would have his clothes to work on when the body was dealt with in the mortuary. There was also the overnight bag that had been lying nearby. Like the body itself, the bag had been scraped along the ground by the blade of the snowplough. It was scuffed and ripped, and it was soaking wet from the time it had spent underneath the snow. Worst of all, it was empty. Even a toothbrush and a can of anti- pcrspirant could have helped them to build up a picture that would identify the Snowman.

‘What we need are some mispers,’ said Fry.

Cooper had only that afternoon been dealing with some reports relating to a missing person. It was easy to refer to them as ‘mispers’ when they were merely a set of details in a computer database. Rut when you started to look into an individual case, they suddenly turned into people. They sprang out of the screen and became unhappy teenagers or

45

abused wives, confused old women or businessmen who had hit fifty and decided to recover their youth with the girl from the marketing department.

‘What age are we talking?’ he said.

‘Early thirties. Good physical condition. Well dressed.

‘Mmm. Right profile anyway.’

‘For what?’

‘Well, tor going missing.’

‘You need to be a particular type of person?’

‘Apart from youngsters, the people most likely to go missing arc men aged between twenty-seven and thirty- four.’

‘That puts you right in the frame, then, Ben.

‘Are we talking death by misadventure? Or suicide, or what?’

Fry hesitated. ‘Don’t know,’ she said.

‘If it’s murder,’ said Cooper, ‘you don’t need a profile for that. Anybody will do for a victim these days. Have we got am evidence? I thought he was hit by the sno plough?’

O .’ I O

‘He was already dead before then.’

The Snowman’s priority rating depended on the pathologist. If he had merely suffered a heart attack by the roadside, then he would be likely to stay on ice for some time before he was claimed. But Fry wasn’t taking that line.

‘An instinct, Diane?’ he said.

But Fry ignored the question. ‘So you and Gavin have got work to do. Let’s have a list of possibles, soon as you can. Neighbouring forces, obviously. Don’t forget he was found on the AS7. Greater Manchester must have a whole book lull of missing persons.’

‘No doubt.’

‘Get on to the Missing Persons Helpline. And don’t forget the national forces Transport Police, Ministry of Defence. Oh, and the Northern Ireland Police Service.’

‘Oh, great. Terrorist execution by snowplough.’

‘You never know.’

E Division’s commander, Chief Superintendent Colin Jcpson, had agreed to see Alison Morrissey himself. But of course he

46

demanded support from his junior officers. There was strength in numbers, he said as if the visitor were the advance party for an enemy horde about to invade E Division. But numbers were something they didn’t have at the moment. The duty inspector had said she was too busy, and nobody (from the community safety department was available, either. Ben Cooper’s name had been mentioned.

There are the Ides the Local Intelligence Officer has put together tor the Chief,’ said DI Paul Hitchens after telling Cooper the news, just before be went off duty that night.

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