Superstitious Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

dried blood, its edges softened with dampness. Very little blood had apparently escaped to mark her skin although one or two particles of earth were adhering to the wound. A lack of blood was sometimes a feature of deep and dangerous puncture wounds and he did not lose sight of the fact that this could have been caused by a large-calibre bullet. If so, it did not appear to have made an exit wound.
    ‘From external appearances, it does seem she died from that wound, Wayne,’ Pluke said softly. ‘And very recently too.’
    ‘It is too early to speculate about the precise cause of death.’ Wayne exercised all the necessary cautions. ‘We must await the post-mortem.’
    ‘You’re absolutely right of course, Wayne,’ Pluke smiled. ‘Now, is there any sign of a digging implement or the murder weapon? Or other people hanging about the scene?’
    ‘The surrounding area has not been thoroughly searched yet, sir,’ PC Singleton told him. ‘I did a brief visual examination, eyes only, sir, but did not see any weapons or tools, and there was no one here when I arrived. Apart from Mr Wardle, that is.’
    ‘Right,’ said Pluke. ‘I think we had better not disturb anything until the forensic pathologist has made his examination, then we’d better call in the Task Force to undertake a fingertip search of the scene. The Task Force is standing by, I am told. Call Control and have them sent here, will you, Wayne? While I’m waiting, I can speak to Mr Wardle. Introduce me to him, would you, PC Singleton?’
    Michael Wardle was a slender man in his mid-fifties with a balding head of dark brown hair, a small dark moustache and gold-rimmed spectacles. With a healthy tanned face and standing about five feet nine inches tall, he was dressed in hiking gear – light brown boots, corduroy trousers, a multi-coloured sweater – and he carried a small haversack containing his provisions for the day. His dog, Sam, was a black and white border collie, and it lay at his feet, patient and well-behaved.
    ‘Good morning, Mr Wardle,’ Pluke greeted him after the introduction. ‘Thank you for being so patient on our behalf.’
    ‘I am just passing through. I am not restricted to a particularly tight schedule so time is not too important.’ Wardle’s smile revealed his nervousness. ‘It was such a shock, dreadful… but if I can help at all…’
    ‘The person who finds a dead body is always of help in our enquiries,’ returned Pluke. ‘So what time did you make this awful discovery?’
    ‘About three-quarters of an hour ago, perhaps. I reported it immediately.’
    ‘Good, I am delighted no time was wasted. Now, if you would be so kind, can you tell me how you came to find this unfortunate young lady?’
    ‘Well, it was pure chance, really. Sam, that’s my dog, found her, not me. I went into the trees, the call of nature you understand, and while I was there Sam wandered off. He found his way into the old quarry, it’s only a few yards behind the copse of trees and there is a gentle descent into the floor of the quarry, not a vertical cliff face as there is at the other side. Anyway, Sam began to dig and bark… I went to see what he was doing and, well, that’s it. I saw the young woman he’d partially uncovered… A terrible shock, Inspector Pluke, and I touched her. She was cold… buried like that… I made Sam sit as I brushed a bit of earth away from her, just to be sure it was a real woman and not a dummy or a wax head. I carry a mobile telephone, as it happens, in case I fall and break a leg or get delayed for any reason… So I rang the police, 999. That’s all I can tell you… What an awful shock, inspector… dreadful…’
    Each time the dog’s name was mentioned, it pricked its ears and thumped its tail on the ground, but never moved from its master’s side. A well-trained animal, Pluke thought, but it was showing no undue distress in the presence of violent death. Indeed, it was behaving perfectly normally.