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We’ll wait ‘til we’re in the mortuary.’ They laid a clear, sterile plastic sheet next to the body and lifted her the few inches it took to get her off the ground. Very gently they rested her upon it, not attempting to turn her again. It was folded over, each end sealed and taped. She was ready to be moved from where she had been dumped like rubbish.
    The rain was coming down with a vengeance now and lashed across the landscape; it was icy and beat the group relentlessly. Quite fitting. The weather was as angry and resolute as the team for such a waste of life. A tent was being erected over the area where she’d been found, to protect it from the elements and to try and keep as much of the scene preserved as possible.
    ‘I’m satisfied this is just a dump site. It’s not the primary murder scene. We’ll need soil samples,’ Dylan said, talking to the team as well as making a mental list for himself. ‘The weather will undoubtedly do its damage, but any opportunity to examine some of the ground is better than none.’
    The mortuary attendant arrived with the HM Coroner’s black transit van to take the body back to the mortuary. The plastic sheet containing the little body was placed inside a body bag that the mortuary attendant brought over to the officers. It was similar to a large holdall with four handles. Single-handedly, John carried the light weight to the waiting vehicle. Daisy was now in safe hands. The rain continued to beat down as the doors closed, unforgiving, pelting the ground in anger. There was no sign of Daisy’s coat, shoes or bridesmaid dress.
    Dawn stopped for a moment and brought out a multi-coloured embroidered handkerchief from beneath the blue latex glove that covered her hand. She was left-handed and dabbed her mouth with the hankie, an action that was similar to that of using blotting paper. Dylan had seen a vast number of beautiful hankies used by Dawn over the years. He knew she was hungry because she dribbled. She had once confided in him after a few glasses of red wine that she’d no control over it. It was only slight, almost unnoticeable, but she thought she looked like a salivating dog.
    Fortunately coffee and sandwiches arrived. A warm drink was welcome. They took off their protective suits, put them into evidence bags and got into their vehicles. The windows steamed up as the engines ran, heaters on full. Dylan sipped his drink, warming his hands. He stuffed his stocking feet under the blast of the warm air from the heater until his toes tingled as the feeling came back in them. Caffeine at last. The swelling and numbness of his mouth caused coffee to run down his chin.
    ‘Want a hankie, boss?’ Dawn smiled as she bit into a teacake. He declined, shaking his head.
    ‘You bring me to some weird and wonderful places,’ she said, shivering so much her teeth chattered. ‘Why do you think the killer used the plastic bag over the head and cut off Daisy’s fingertip? What’s all that about?’ she asked him as she took sips from her steaming plastic cup.
    ‘We’ll find out when we get him, Dawn, and we will get him.’
    ‘We will,’ she echoed.
    Dylan handed her his drained cup, wiped the inside of the windscreen with his gloved hand, put the car into first gear and slowly crept forward to the uniform car, raising his hand in thanks to its occupants. The uniformed officers would stay and keep a watchful eye on the scene while they followed the body to the mortuary for continuity.
    ‘I wouldn’t want to be here even if I was dead,’ Dylan said as they arrived. No matter how many times he went to the morgue it never got any easier.
     
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
    He texted Jen from the sanctuary of the car park to tell her he’d be home late. I’ll be waiting came her reply and he smiled to himself.
    ‘What you got to smile about?’ said Dawn.
    He tapped his nose. ‘You’re not in the need to know,’ he said, concentrating on dialling the superintendent. She pulled