to mislead the police .
*
Now, with the lights on again, Tailby was forced to admit that all they knew so far about the circumstances of Jenny Weston's death was the situation they had found on Ringham Moor, and a bewildering array of items recovered by the SOCOs.
‘ These camp fires — are they recent, sir?' asked some one.
‘ Some are clearly quite old,' said Tailby. 'A couple of months anyway, dating from the summer, when there is most activity up there. But others are more recent, with ash still present — we would expect it to be washed away into the ground after a few spells of rainfall. But the Peak Park Rangers for that area tell us there are often people camping on Ringham Moor, even in September and October. Right through the middle of winter sometimes. Even in the snow.'
‘ We've got some right little Sir Edmund Hillarys, haven't we? ’
It had to be Todd Weenink who couldn't resist. He looked as crumpled as the rest, perhaps even more so. He had almost certainly had more to drink the night before than the average man could take. Casual flip pancy seemed to seep out of him like sweat from a ripe Stilton. Cooper watched Tailby's grey eyes warm as he glanced at Weenink, grateful for the response.
‘ Of course, there's no indication so far that anybody camping out on the moor is necessarily a suspect for the attack on our latest victim, or even a witness. However . . .’ Tailby pinned a photograph to a big cork board. 'By a stroke of luck, we also have this. ’
The photo showed a patch of grey ash, with a few black sticks of charred wood poking through it. The ash looked as though it had been roughly brushed over. And there, to one side, was the partial imprint of the sole of a boot or shoe.
‘ It's early days, yet,' said the DCI. 'But we're hopeful of an identification on the footwear. There's sufficient impression from the sole to get a match, we think.'
‘ But was it made at the time, sir?'
‘ Ah.' Tailby pointed to a small, dark smudge on the photograph. 'This is a trace of the victim's blood. The significant thing about it is that the print was made on top of the blood stain while it was still fresh. ’
He nodded with some degree of satisfaction. Early forensic evidence was exactly what everyone prayed for. A boot print that would connect its wearer to the scene at the time of the offence — what better could they ask for at such an early stage? Well, a suspect with footwear to compare the boot print to, that's what.
‘ Read the preliminary crime scene report,' said Tailby .
There was another shuffling of papers. Cooper looked down at his file. There was a computer-printed list of items retrieved from the area around the Virgins, but it was a long one, difficult to take in. The SOCOs had taken samples of vegetation, including heather, whin-berry, gorse and three types of grass. They had taken sections of bark from the trunks of the birches where they had been cut by a knife or splashed with an unknown substance. They had brought in stones, half- bricks, bags of ash and cinders, sheets of corrugated iron, a small metal grille like a fire grate, a burnt corner of the Sheffield Star where half a dozen screwed-up pages had been used to help light a fire, a British Midland Airways refresher tissue wrapper, a whole pile of aluminium ring-pulls, several cigarette butts, a Findus crispy pancake packet, and a selection of used condoms .
The forensic team had covered a wide area — all of the clearing around the stones, right into the birches and as far as the fence around the edge of the quarry. The SOCOs must have balked at the view to the east, towards the edge of the plateau. Cooper could remem ber a sea of bracken — damp, endless acres of it, stretch ing to the Hammond Tower and beyond, flowing over the edge of the cliff, dense and almost impenetrable. Beyond the bracken was a low wire fence with wooden posts, then beyond it a precipitous drop. From there, an object would plummet a
*
Now, with the lights on again, Tailby was forced to admit that all they knew so far about the circumstances of Jenny Weston's death was the situation they had found on Ringham Moor, and a bewildering array of items recovered by the SOCOs.
‘ These camp fires — are they recent, sir?' asked some one.
‘ Some are clearly quite old,' said Tailby. 'A couple of months anyway, dating from the summer, when there is most activity up there. But others are more recent, with ash still present — we would expect it to be washed away into the ground after a few spells of rainfall. But the Peak Park Rangers for that area tell us there are often people camping on Ringham Moor, even in September and October. Right through the middle of winter sometimes. Even in the snow.'
‘ We've got some right little Sir Edmund Hillarys, haven't we? ’
It had to be Todd Weenink who couldn't resist. He looked as crumpled as the rest, perhaps even more so. He had almost certainly had more to drink the night before than the average man could take. Casual flip pancy seemed to seep out of him like sweat from a ripe Stilton. Cooper watched Tailby's grey eyes warm as he glanced at Weenink, grateful for the response.
‘ Of course, there's no indication so far that anybody camping out on the moor is necessarily a suspect for the attack on our latest victim, or even a witness. However . . .’ Tailby pinned a photograph to a big cork board. 'By a stroke of luck, we also have this. ’
The photo showed a patch of grey ash, with a few black sticks of charred wood poking through it. The ash looked as though it had been roughly brushed over. And there, to one side, was the partial imprint of the sole of a boot or shoe.
‘ It's early days, yet,' said the DCI. 'But we're hopeful of an identification on the footwear. There's sufficient impression from the sole to get a match, we think.'
‘ But was it made at the time, sir?'
‘ Ah.' Tailby pointed to a small, dark smudge on the photograph. 'This is a trace of the victim's blood. The significant thing about it is that the print was made on top of the blood stain while it was still fresh. ’
He nodded with some degree of satisfaction. Early forensic evidence was exactly what everyone prayed for. A boot print that would connect its wearer to the scene at the time of the offence — what better could they ask for at such an early stage? Well, a suspect with footwear to compare the boot print to, that's what.
‘ Read the preliminary crime scene report,' said Tailby .
There was another shuffling of papers. Cooper looked down at his file. There was a computer-printed list of items retrieved from the area around the Virgins, but it was a long one, difficult to take in. The SOCOs had taken samples of vegetation, including heather, whin-berry, gorse and three types of grass. They had taken sections of bark from the trunks of the birches where they had been cut by a knife or splashed with an unknown substance. They had brought in stones, half- bricks, bags of ash and cinders, sheets of corrugated iron, a small metal grille like a fire grate, a burnt corner of the Sheffield Star where half a dozen screwed-up pages had been used to help light a fire, a British Midland Airways refresher tissue wrapper, a whole pile of aluminium ring-pulls, several cigarette butts, a Findus crispy pancake packet, and a selection of used condoms .
The forensic team had covered a wide area — all of the clearing around the stones, right into the birches and as far as the fence around the edge of the quarry. The SOCOs must have balked at the view to the east, towards the edge of the plateau. Cooper could remem ber a sea of bracken — damp, endless acres of it, stretch ing to the Hammond Tower and beyond, flowing over the edge of the cliff, dense and almost impenetrable. Beyond the bracken was a low wire fence with wooden posts, then beyond it a precipitous drop. From there, an object would plummet a
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