Dave looked thoughtful. ‘Late seventies? It was a hell of a winter in seventy-nine, that I do remember.’
‘So I keep hearing.’
‘Bloody freezing it was. River was iced over and folk were skating on it. Villages were cut off. It was pretty harsh. That any help?’
‘Haven’t the faintest idea,’ Harry replied. ‘But I’ll let you know if that information helps me crack the case.’
Dave laughed. ‘Right, I’ll be off, then. See you when I get back. And we’ll go for those pints, okay?’
And with that, the big man was gone.
‘So, just you and me then,’ Jenny called over, and gave a brief wave to Harry. ‘How you doing?’
‘Rubbish, if I’m honest,’ Harry said.
‘And the running?’
‘Don’t ask.’
Jenny walked over to sit with Harry.
‘A little bird tells me you have, in many ways, been eating a right load of old shite this week, am I right?’
Harry groaned. It was all well and good being in a place where everyone knew everyone else, because it felt friendly and welcoming. It also meant that you couldn’t really keep secrets.
‘Who told?’ Harry asked.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Jenny said. ‘But you can’t exercise and expect to get into shape if you’re not eating properly.’
‘I am eating properly,’ Harry said, and took a huge bite from a slice of cake. ‘See?’ he said, when it was finished, ‘I didn’t drop a single crumb. Amazing!’
‘Yeah, pure talent,’ Jenny said. ‘But I’m serious.’
‘I know you are,’ Harry said. ‘And I appreciate your concern. But I’ve other things on my mind right now.’
‘Well, exercise is good for stress,’ Jenny said. ‘You have to make time for it.’
She had a point, Harry knew, but time was one thing he really didn’t have.
A knock at the door butted into the moment and Harry looked up to see a shadow on the other side of the door. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked. ‘We expecting anyone?’
‘No, we’re not,’ Jenny said, and rose to her feet to walk over to the door.
When she opened it the shadow on the other side stood there for a moment before entering the room. At which point, Harry’s phone buzzed.
‘Grimm,’ Harry barked.
‘Sowerby,’ came the sharp reply. ‘And I just need to check if this is going to be a full week of crime scenes or if I am actually able to make other plans?’
Harry hoped there was more to her call than mere insult. Though he couldn’t really blame her. ‘Well, if you’ve any further evidence that you think will help us identify who’s responsible, that would be a great help,’ he said.
‘And do you always make a mess of a crime scene?’ the pathologist asked.
‘There’s nothing wrong with the crime scene!’ Harry said. ‘In fact, I didn’t touch anything. Not a thing!’
‘You walked through it, though, didn’t you?’ Sowerby replied. ‘Oh, and your PCSO has already left. He’s actually rather nice, you know. Polite. You could learn a thing or two there. And I’ve updated him on everything as well. I know that’s not the normal way of doing things, but I was hoping it would avoid my having to talk to you so soon. Clearly, I misjudged.’
‘I checked on the victim,’ Harry said, ‘and then chased after a suspect.’
‘Who mysteriously vanished.’
Harry composed himself. He was going to have to learn how to work with Rebecca Sowerby because so far he wasn’t doing so well at it. ‘So, have you got anything?’ he asked. ‘You know, from the crime scene. Anything at all? How he was killed, anything like that? Or is this just a social call?’
Harry heard the sharp intake of breath from the other end of the phone.
‘There’s a lot of blood and none of it is his,’ the pathologist said.
‘Who’s?’ Harry asked.
‘The victim’s,’ came the reply.
‘I know, it’s the doctor’s,’ Harry agreed.
‘He was smashed over the head with a log by all accounts,’ Sowerby said. ‘And with the size of that thing coming down on him, he won’t just have a cut or two. There would be bruising and a possible fracture as well, I should guess. Though how it happened at all is anyone’s guess.’
‘What?’ Harry asked. ‘How do you mean it’s anyone’s guess?’
‘It’s quite simple,’ Sowerby explained. ‘You smash someone over the head hard enough to create that amount of blood, then you have blood spatter, correct?’
‘Yes, correct,’ Harry agreed. Everyone knew that, so why was she asking him?
‘Well, there wasn’t or isn’t any. Like none.’
‘But the blood,’ Harry said, ‘I saw it.’
‘Yes you did. And there’s a lot of it. But the spray pattern doesn’t match what’s supposed to have happened, you know, with someone battering the doctor over the head.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Harry said. ‘What are you actually saying? That he wasn’t hit over the head? Because I was there! I saw what I saw!’
‘All I’m saying,’ said the pathologist, ‘is that it’s not what you’d expect. Perhaps he was clobbered and then the blood got thrown everywhere as he stumbled out. That might work.’
Harry’s brain had stalled, and his voice.
‘You still there?’
‘Yes,’ Harry said. ‘But he was attacked! Maybe you’ve missed something?’
The laugh down the line was a mix of anger and disgust that Harry could suggest such a thing.
‘Where is he now? The doctor? Hospital?’
‘He headed off,’ Harry said. ‘I took his statement.’
‘What, he drove? And you just let him? Are you mad? He can’t have been in any fit state to! At all!’
Harry thought back to the doctor, the blood that had covered him when he’d stumbled out of the Jack Iveson’s front door, then how he’d found him after chasing through the house. ‘Well, he seemed fine,’ he said. ‘And he was in a better position to judge than me, don’t you think? Being a doctor and all.’
The line was quiet for a second or two.
‘He was poisoned,’ Sowerby said. ‘And by the looks of things the MO was the same: incapacitated with a choke hold, then whatever it was that killed him was
