A Deadly Thaw by Sarah Ward Page B

dimension.
    Sadler and she had attended his wedding to Joanne. In spite of the wobbly Palmer had thrown on the eve of his wedding, pleading with Connie to let him stay in her flat, he now looked content and back to his usual arrogant self. Connie hadn’t liked the doubtful version of him. However much his self-assurance might wind her up, she preferred confidence to vulnerability.
    It was Palmer who came towards her, looking grim. ‘We’ve got a body that matches the description of Lena Gray. We’ve not been able to get near it but we’re about to be given the green light according to the CSIs. You’ve arrived at the right time.’
    ‘Drowning?’
    Palmer shrugged. ‘She’s down by the river. Partially submerged. Bill’s been and gone and said he’d call through the results once the PM’s taken place. He didn’t want to commit himself in relation to cause of death when I asked.’
    ‘He’s playing it safe, I suspect. We all are.’ Connie looked towards Sadler. ‘What does the boss say?’
    ‘Not much. I think he’s glad the body’s out in the open. He seemed a bit freaked out at finding that guy at Hale’s End. The great outdoors is more his thing.’
    Connie smiled, and their eyes met.
    ‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked her.
    ‘With Kat, Lena’s sister. I’ve found a Whitby connection although I’m not sure what it means. It was Lena’s favourite place. Why Andrew Fisher would use it as a place to hide out isn’t clear.’
    ‘Well, it doesn’t sound like he was running from her. They must have been in it together. The deception, I mean.’
    ‘Possibly.’ Connie again looked at Sadler, who was making his way towards them.
    He acknowledged her with a nod of the head. ‘We’ve been given the okay to see the body. We need to get a move on. It’ll be dark in an hour or so.’
    The three of them made their way down the path. The gravelled car park gave way to grass. It was wet underfoot. Recent rainfall had raised the water table, and Connie could feel her boots sink into the soft ground and the moisture reach up to her ankle. Sadler and Palmer were both wearing wellington boots and trudged ahead of her, their heads bent towards the ground.
    The path opened out as it reached the river, where a crowd of white-suited personnel were still going about their business. A woman came towards her, and Connie recognised her from a previous case. Her first name, she thought, was Tracy.
    ‘Do you want to take a look before we turn her over?’
    Sadler nodded, and Tracy led the way down to the river. The upper half of the torso was face down in the shallow water, the arms thrown above in a hideous imitation of a dive. It looked like she was wearing a khaki bomber jacket which had ballooned with the water and her jeans, which clung to her legs, were also sodden with water. Her submerged body had been knocked about by the swirling eddies before being deposited on the bank.
    Tracy pointed to the body. ‘There are abrasions on the face, but the pathologist will be able to tell you if they’re post mortem or not. Apart from that, there is little sign of injury.’
    ‘Time of death?’ asked Connie, her lungs stinging from the rapidly cooling air.
    ‘Within the past twenty-four hours, according to Bill. Are you okay for us to turn her over?’
    ‘Hold on a minute.’
    Connie looked in surprise at her boss. She’d have guessed that he would have wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible. Clearly not. She watched him as he walked up to the woman’s body and looked down at her, nodding imperceptibly to himself. Then he straightened up. ‘Okay. Turn her over.’ He looked back towards Connie, his face devoid of emotion.
    She resisted the temptation to ask him if he’d discovered anything. Surely he would have called them over if there was anything of interest.
    Two CSIs went to the body and, with a one-two-three, flipped the woman over. The bloat of the face was, as usual, shocking. Bodies that