bothering now.’ He eyed Jack speculatively. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Ms Cheney at Gallows Cottage doesn’t appear on any missing list, does she?’ Jack said. ‘Ms Cheney’s most probably happily going about her usual business somewhere, in total ignorance anybody’s looking for her. She rents that dump for a while, spends pots of money on it ’cos she’s not short of a bob or two … and who’s to say it was her money anyway? She might’ve rented it for the specific purpose of having a nice little place in the middle of nowhere for her dirty weekends … her and a married boyfriend … both of them married. Having it off when they got the chance down in the woods and nobody any the wiser. Beats the back seat of a car any day.’ Jack grinned. ‘Then, back home on a Monday morning, all respectable. That’s probably why she paid the rent in cash. No records that way, no cheques to be explained to her husband or his wife.’
Disgust with Jack’s graphic analysis of Ms Cheney’s weekend sport pulled at McKenna’s face. ‘We’ve still got a body,’ he said. ‘And unless we can put a name to it, we’ll never find out who killed her.’
Dr Roberts telephoned, excitement sparkling in his voice. ‘I removed various organs, Michael, and tried to reconstitute them for section,’ he said. ‘With some success, I might add, even though I do say so myself!’
‘Oh, yes?’ McKenna sounded sour. ‘And what have you found?’
‘No heart disease, no liver disease, no kidney disease.’
‘That’s very interesting,’ McKenna commented. ‘We know she was healthy until somebody decided to string her up. Should aid the identification process no end.’
‘God, McKenna, you’re a sarcastic bugger! I gave you the bad news first,’ Eifion Roberts snapped. ‘I actually called to say the woman had had at least one, and possibly more than one, pregnancy.’
‘Are you sure?’ McKenna asked. ‘How could you possibly tell from the state she was in?’
‘You don’t listen, do you? I reconstituted the organs. You may not know the uterus is the last one to decompose, because it’s made as tough as old boots … came up almost as good as new…. So good, in fact, it set me thinking of a way to provide donor organs.’
‘Donor organs?’
Eifion Roberts’ throaty laugh rumbled in McKenna’s ear. ‘Hundreds of graveyards choc-a-bloc with bodies, and their innards all going to waste.’
Dewi, too, returned empty-handed, and long before dusk.
‘I told you to stay there until dark, Dewi Prys,’ McKenna said. ‘Why are you back so early? Have you found the buckle?’
‘No, sir,’ Dewi muttered. ‘I don’t reckon anyone’d be able to find anything down there.’
‘Why not?’
Dewi looked at Jack, who stood feeding sheet after sheet of paper into the fax machine, then back to McKenna. ‘Well, sir, I mean, we don’t even know what this buckle looks like, do we?’
‘So?’
‘So, it makes things a bit difficult….’ Dewi paused. ‘And,’ he added, ‘the whole place got really trampled about on Saturday, sir. If the buckle was around in the first place, it’s probably under a load of mud by now….’
McKenna looked at the mud and grass-stains streaking Dewi’s jeans. ‘How did you get so dirty?’ he asked.
‘Because it’s filthy dirty down there, sir,’ Dewi said. ‘You haven’t seen it, have you? All mud and dead leaves and God knows what.’
Looking up from the fax machine, Jack said, ‘Did you fall in the river, Prys?’
‘No, sir,’ Dewi said.
‘Get lost then, did you?’ Jack asked.
‘Sort of,’ Dewi admitted. His face flushed. ‘Some stupid bugger’s moved all that tape we left at the weekend, haven’t they?’
‘There’s your answer, then,’ Jack said to McKenna. ‘He’s back earlybecause he was scared of getting lost in the woods. And I don’t blame him, either.’
Chapter 7
Bored and irritable, convinced the woman in the woods and her death would
‘Ms Cheney at Gallows Cottage doesn’t appear on any missing list, does she?’ Jack said. ‘Ms Cheney’s most probably happily going about her usual business somewhere, in total ignorance anybody’s looking for her. She rents that dump for a while, spends pots of money on it ’cos she’s not short of a bob or two … and who’s to say it was her money anyway? She might’ve rented it for the specific purpose of having a nice little place in the middle of nowhere for her dirty weekends … her and a married boyfriend … both of them married. Having it off when they got the chance down in the woods and nobody any the wiser. Beats the back seat of a car any day.’ Jack grinned. ‘Then, back home on a Monday morning, all respectable. That’s probably why she paid the rent in cash. No records that way, no cheques to be explained to her husband or his wife.’
Disgust with Jack’s graphic analysis of Ms Cheney’s weekend sport pulled at McKenna’s face. ‘We’ve still got a body,’ he said. ‘And unless we can put a name to it, we’ll never find out who killed her.’
Dr Roberts telephoned, excitement sparkling in his voice. ‘I removed various organs, Michael, and tried to reconstitute them for section,’ he said. ‘With some success, I might add, even though I do say so myself!’
‘Oh, yes?’ McKenna sounded sour. ‘And what have you found?’
‘No heart disease, no liver disease, no kidney disease.’
‘That’s very interesting,’ McKenna commented. ‘We know she was healthy until somebody decided to string her up. Should aid the identification process no end.’
‘God, McKenna, you’re a sarcastic bugger! I gave you the bad news first,’ Eifion Roberts snapped. ‘I actually called to say the woman had had at least one, and possibly more than one, pregnancy.’
‘Are you sure?’ McKenna asked. ‘How could you possibly tell from the state she was in?’
‘You don’t listen, do you? I reconstituted the organs. You may not know the uterus is the last one to decompose, because it’s made as tough as old boots … came up almost as good as new…. So good, in fact, it set me thinking of a way to provide donor organs.’
‘Donor organs?’
Eifion Roberts’ throaty laugh rumbled in McKenna’s ear. ‘Hundreds of graveyards choc-a-bloc with bodies, and their innards all going to waste.’
Dewi, too, returned empty-handed, and long before dusk.
‘I told you to stay there until dark, Dewi Prys,’ McKenna said. ‘Why are you back so early? Have you found the buckle?’
‘No, sir,’ Dewi muttered. ‘I don’t reckon anyone’d be able to find anything down there.’
‘Why not?’
Dewi looked at Jack, who stood feeding sheet after sheet of paper into the fax machine, then back to McKenna. ‘Well, sir, I mean, we don’t even know what this buckle looks like, do we?’
‘So?’
‘So, it makes things a bit difficult….’ Dewi paused. ‘And,’ he added, ‘the whole place got really trampled about on Saturday, sir. If the buckle was around in the first place, it’s probably under a load of mud by now….’
McKenna looked at the mud and grass-stains streaking Dewi’s jeans. ‘How did you get so dirty?’ he asked.
‘Because it’s filthy dirty down there, sir,’ Dewi said. ‘You haven’t seen it, have you? All mud and dead leaves and God knows what.’
Looking up from the fax machine, Jack said, ‘Did you fall in the river, Prys?’
‘No, sir,’ Dewi said.
‘Get lost then, did you?’ Jack asked.
‘Sort of,’ Dewi admitted. His face flushed. ‘Some stupid bugger’s moved all that tape we left at the weekend, haven’t they?’
‘There’s your answer, then,’ Jack said to McKenna. ‘He’s back earlybecause he was scared of getting lost in the woods. And I don’t blame him, either.’
Chapter 7
Bored and irritable, convinced the woman in the woods and her death would
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