‘Absolutely,’ Gordy said. ‘Because they’re willing to go the extra mile, I think.’
‘Where would we be without them?’
‘It’s something I don’t want to even consider, so I don’t think I will.’
Harry could see from the look on Jim’s face that he was hearing their words but not exactly listening to them. He glanced back at the farmhouse. ‘So it’s definitely not one of the family, then?’
‘Nope,’ Jim said. ‘They’re all accounted for. The farmer’s pretty shaken up by it, but that’s fair enough. Reckon he thought it was one of his kids when he first saw it, even though it couldn’t be, seeing as they were all still in bed.’
‘And so should we all be,’ Harry grumbled.
‘Now that I’m here, I think I’ll go and relieve the family of Matt,’ Gordy said, clearly sensing a momentary break in the conversation. ‘It should be the other way around, but this is Matt we’re talking about after all. I doubt he’s shut up since he got in there.’
Harry watched Gordy head off back over to the farmhouse. ‘She’s really not what I’m used to dealing with when it comes to Family Liaison Officers.’
‘Why’s that?’ Jim asked.
‘She’s just a little bit more abrupt than you’d expect,’ Harry said.
‘Well, she’s good at it,’ Jim said. ‘I hear you had fun with Nick last night? Matt was telling me about it.’
Harry wasn’t so sure fun was the way he would have described it. ‘Yeah, we didn’t exactly learn much.’
A shout caught Harry’s attention and he turned to see Matt striding out towards them.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said.
‘I know,’ Harry replied. ‘Shocker.’
‘Bit of a rough one, this, isn’t it? Drowning in shit! What a way to go.’
‘I’m assuming that’s you just guessing at what happened,’ Harry said, ‘unless you’ve got some kind of crystal ball in your pocket.’
Matt went to say something, but his voice was cut off by the sound of vehicles pulling off the road and in at the front of the farmhouse.
Harry looked over.
‘She’s not going to be happy about this, is she?’ Jim said, seeing who had just arrived.
‘No, she’s not,’ Harry said, a hint of a smile cracking his face. ‘Not in the slightest.’
Chapter Eighteen
Harry stood with Jim and Matt as the photographer he had met yesterday worked his way around the crime scene taking photos from all angles, as well as a little video. The divisional surgeon had already been and gone, pronouncing death with the immortal words, ‘Dead? Well of course they’re bloody dead! It’s a bloated body in a pond of cow shit! How could it be anything else?’ She had then spoken briefly to her daughter, Rebecca Sowerby, the pathologist, before heading back off into the day.
‘You’d think he’d have gone for something like wedding photography instead,’ Harry mused, watching as the photographer leaned over the slurry pit, snapping more photos.
‘I guess,’ Jim said. ‘Though can you imagine it? Weddings, day in, day out? The married couple ordering you about, the family getting pissed and falling out with each other?’
‘Free food and booze, though,’ Matt suggested. ‘And I doubt it stinks like this does.’
The photographer, having finished his job, dipped his head down and under the tape and walked over towards Harry and Jim.
‘I’m done,’ he said. ‘Not a nice way to go, is it?’
‘Don’t think such a thing exists,’ Harry said.
The photographer wandered off back to his car at the side of the road when Harry called after him.
‘You sent the files through from yesterday yet?’
‘Sure did,’ the photographer said. ‘They’re with, oh, what’s he called . . . Swift?’
Harry bristled at this.
‘The hell have you sent them to him for? I’m the SOI!’
‘He asked for them,’ the photographer shrugged. ‘Told me to send them to him first. I thought he was forwarding them on. I guess not.’
‘You guessed right.’
‘I’ll send them as soon as I get back,’ the photographer said. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘Hmm,’ Harry grumbled, ‘I bet he isn’t, though.’
Harry turned his attention back to the slurry pit and the body floating in it. Walking towards it now was Rebecca Sowerby, the pathologist, and a couple of others dressed head to toe in white paper PPE suits.
‘Swift usually ask for stuff before the team sees it?’ he asked Jim and Matt.
‘Not that I know of,’ Jim said, then gestured towards the white figures surrounding the pit. ‘Rather them than me.’
One of the figures reached into the pit with a long, hooked metal pole. After a couple of attempts they managed to snag it onto the body and was able to start pulling it towards the side, before guiding it slowly towards the front of the pit, where it could be easily accessed.
Matt turned away from the pit to face Harry and Jim. ‘Reckon we may as well leave them to it,’ he said. ‘Not much we can do here right now, is there? And it’s not exactly grabbing my attention as a spectator sport.’
‘Need to speak to the pathologist first,’ Harry said. ‘Then we can head back to the office.’
Once the body was at the front of the slurry pit, the three figures who had guided it over walked past Harry, Jim and Matt to start wading into the oozing, brown, steaming pool, to gently drag it out. One of the figures peeled off and came back to stand in front of them.
‘Grimm,’ it said, from behind its white mask.
‘You could say that,’ Harry replied. ‘You got the report on yesterday’s find?’
The figure lifted the mask from off her face and Rebecca Sowerby, the pathologist, stared up at Harry. ‘It’s with Swift,’ she said. ‘He was supposed to forward it to you.’
‘Well, he hasn’t,’ Harry said.
‘Take it up with him, then.’
‘Oh, I will,’ Harry muttered, then said, ‘but if you can give me a quick summary, that would be really helpful.’
‘As you can see, I’m a little busy.’
‘Wading through shit, quite literally,’ Harry said.
Not even the faintest hint of a smile cracked the pathologist’s stern demeanour.
‘Well, there’s sod all
