Avoiding the broken edges of the barrier, they moved to a spot that wouldn’t block the team’s egress from the broken vehicle to the motorway and stood for a moment, watching the activities below.
‘What made Traffic call it in as a murder scene?’ Kay called over the howling wind.
In reply, Sharp held his hand out for her torch before walking a few more paces until he was at a different angle to the car and swept the beam over the back of the vehicle.
A pale arm snaked out from the boot and over the rear licence plate at an impossible angle.
‘Her,’ he said.
Chapter Two
Sharp stepped closer to the barrier and whistled to the crime scene team below.
One of the white suit-clad figures straightened at the sound, then pointed to its right and up the bank.
‘Good. Harriet’s got a demarcated path set up at last.’
They pulled on overalls and booties from a box of supplies left next to the barrier, the thin material flapping in the wind against their own clothes, and then Kay tied her hair back and followed Sharp down the slope, mindful of the fact that if she wasn’t careful, she’d slide on the wet undergrowth and scoot down the rest of the way on her backside.
The floodlights provided enough light to move safely along the path, so Kay shone her torch to her right, tracking the path the vehicle had carved through the vegetation as it had plummeted to where it now lay.
She’d seen some bad road accidents in her time with the police service, and gave a low gasp as she cast her eyes over the destruction.
‘It’s a wonder he lived, isn’t it?’ said Sharp over his shoulder.
‘Yeah. He must’ve been thrown around like a rag doll.’
As they drew closer to the foot of the embankment, Kay noticed that a wire fence separated the Highway Agency land from that of a farmer’s field.
The landscape beyond the outer reaches of the floodlights appeared as though it had been abandoned since harvest time, the earth laid fallow and bare.
Kay shivered as a cold gust of wind buffeted her and rocked the gantries from side to side, then turned her attention to the crash site.
She could only imagine the mammoth task that faced Harriet’s team – it was only now the driver of the car was on his way to hospital that the investigators could do their job. Their task would be exacerbated by the fact that at least twelve other people had traipsed through the now-cordoned-off area since the crash.
A tent had been erected over the back of the vehicle while she and Sharp had been talking at the top of the embankment, and as Kay drew closer she could see Harriet standing off to one side, calling out instructions to her team while they propped up a second tent over the driver’s door of the car. A photographer moved from one side of the car to the other, the flash from his camera illuminating the scene in bursts of light that bounced off the trunks of nearby trees and cast silhouettes amongst his colleagues.
Harriet glanced over her shoulder when they approached the cordon, and then made her way towards them, her progress hampered by tree branches and thick vines that covered the mud-strewn ground.
‘Evening, detectives.’
‘Harriet.’ Sharp jerked his chin towards the vehicle. ‘What’ve you got so far?’
The crime scene investigator pulled her paper mask down. ‘Female, mid-twenties by the look of it. Wrapped in a black plastic sheet that was taped together. Bruising to the face, which obviously wasn’t caused by the accident – not enough time has elapsed. I can’t see any bindings around her wrists. I’ll let Patrick finish the preliminary photographs, and then we’ll take a closer look.’
‘Thanks.’
Sharp fell silent as Harriet replaced her mask and returned to the small tent, her white suit covered in splatters of mud from the knees down.
Kay sniffed the air, a heady mix of spilt fuel and the earthy tones of the nearby field. She glanced back up the embankment at the sound of air brakes, and spotted a large tow truck pull up to the barrier, its hazard lights flashing. She checked her watch, and wondered if they would be finished in time before sunrise.
The last thing they would need was for the crime scene to slow down the morning commute and end up on the news before they could work with the media team to coordinate a structured response.
On the other hand, to rush the forensic examination of the vehicle while it was still in situ would be a disaster. The next few hours were crucial for capturing as much evidence as possible.
The photographer moved closer to where Kay and Sharp stood, then lowered his camera.
‘Okay, Harriet, I’ve got all the preliminary photographs,’ he called over to the car. ‘Anything else you need from the perimeter?’
‘No, that’s fine. Let’s get a move on and find out what we’ve got. Charlie, can you move one of those floodlights closer?’
A technician moved away from the group, slapped a colleague on the arm as he passed and pointed away from the car, before the two figures grabbed hold of the nearest floodlight and shuffled their way towards the rear of the vehicle.
Once satisfied the lighting rig had been secured so the wind wouldn’t blow it over on top of someone, Harriet set to work once more.
Kay held her breath, the temptation to lift the tape between her and the vehicle tempered by the knowledge that she couldn’t simply impose upon Harriet’s work.
From their position at the cordon, Kay had to crane her neck to try and see what Harriet was doing.
The woman spoke to her team as she worked, her low voice carrying on the wind as she pointed to different parts of the vehicle and set her colleagues to work taking samples
