Murder Club - Mark Pearson [42]
The skeleton had nearly been fully uncovered, and rags still clung to part of the body, bits of a suit by the looks of it. The rest had decomposed over the years that the body had lain there. The skull had been broken in several places and what looked like a book lay under the skeleton’s right arm.
‘You want to talk me through it?’ said Delaney, putting an unlit cigarette into his mouth.
Derek ‘Bowlalong’ Bowman looked up at the detective. He was a large, portly, cheerful man. His hair, as ever, was a tangled mass of grey curls, his dress sense equally scruffy, although he was now encased in a white forensic examination suit. ‘Hello, Jack. Didn’t expect to see you here. I’d have thought Napier would have had you on a convict ship to the colonies by now. Hard labour under the Australian sun.’
‘If he had his way, he probably would,’ Delaney agreed. ‘Some minor details to sort out first. Things have to be investigated thoroughly after all – innocent before being found guilty, and all that kind of malarkey.’
The large man smiled. ‘I know you’re a stickler for due process yourself.’
‘Famous for it.’
‘I take it you didn’t show the woman in question the photograph of Robinson?’
‘I hope not.’
‘Yes, I can see that might be awkward. No clear recollection?’
Delaney shook his head. ‘I certainly don’t remember doing that, no.’
‘Lost-weekend kind of thing.’
Delaney nodded drily. ‘Sometimes a little longer.’
‘The man was guilty, though?’
‘And now he’s walked free. But not for long.’
‘Best tread careful, Jack.’
‘My middle name.’
‘Really, I thought it was Daniel.’
Delaney gestured at the skeleton. ‘Our friend here a John or a Jane?’
‘Definitely male. Probably somewhere in his fifties.’
‘Can you tell how long he’s been in there?’
‘Bowlalong’ shrugged. ‘Not recent – the best I can do for you. For now at least.’
‘They look like old bones. Might have been moved here, you mean?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘The clothing has decomposed, you can see it in the soil. We’ll do some tests, but the bone alignment, the clothing … I’d say this was the original site of burial.’
‘But you can’t say when.’
‘Bones react differently with different soil. Acids, alkalis, chemicals.’ He waggled his hands. ‘All manner of things either preserve or speed up the decaying process. I’ll know more when Lorraine and I get him back to the office.’
Delaney nodded at the young woman ‘Bowlalong’ had just gestured at. She was Kate’s former assistant, when Kate still worked as a forensic pathologist, until she decided she preferred working with the living to the dead and quit. Lorraine was a shy woman, with an expressive face that blushed readily. She was blushing now as Delaney nodded to her and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, why she was in a job like this. Kate had explained to him that Lorraine couldn’t cope with people dying on her, but didn’t want her medical training to go to waste.
‘Here you go, sir.’
Delaney turned round as DC Sally Cartwright handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee. Another attractive young woman working amongst the dead. He would probably be called a sexist pig, but it seemed wrong to him somehow. He didn’t articulate the thought.
‘Cheers, Sally,’ he said instead.
‘Any further forward?’ she asked the pathologist.
‘Not till we get back to the lab.’
‘What about the skull injuries?’
‘The doctor thinks they’re post-mortem.’
Derek Bowman nodded. ‘Like as not the workman with his spade.’
‘Maybe,’ said Delaney. ‘Maybe not.’
Lorraine delicately lifted the rotting book from under the dead man’s arm. She placed it to one side on a plastic sheet. The book was leather-covered, black originally by the look of it, although slimed with mud and moisture from the years it had lain with the man in the ground. She brushed away some