In a Dry Season by Peter Robinson Page A

you seem to want year, month, date and time. The best you can realistically hope for is between thirty and fifty or fifty and a hundred. I don’t want to appear to be telling you your job, but probably your best chance of finding out who she was and when she was killed is by checking old missing-persons files.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” said Banks.
    â€œAnyway, I’ll need more information about soil, mineral content, bacterial content, temperature fluctuations and various other factors. Buried under an outbuilding floor, then flooded under a reservoir, you say?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œI’ll visit the site first thing in the morning and take some samples, then I’ll get working on the tests.” He looked at Annie. “Perhaps DS Cabbot here would be willing to escort me there?”
    â€œSorry.” said Annie, “Far too busy.”
    His eyes lingered on her. “Pity.”
    â€œVisiting the site’s no problem,” Banks said. “I’ll arrange for a car and make sure the SOCOS are expecting you. Look, we’re already a bit suspicious from the way and the place the body was buried. I know you don’t have a lot to go on, but can you tell us anything at all about cause of death?”
    â€œI think I can help you a little with that, though it’s not really my area of expertise, and you should definitely get your Home Office pathologist to confirm this.”
    â€œOf course. We’ll ask Dr Glendenning to have a look as soon as he can. I doubt that it’ll be top of his list, though. What have you found to be going on with?”
    â€œSee those markings on the bones there?” Dr Williams pointed to several of the ribs and the pelvic area. As Banks looked more closely, he noticed a number of triangular notches. They weren’t easy to spot because of the flaking and crusting, but once he saw them he knew he’d seen them before on bones.
    â€œStab wounds,” he muttered.
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œCause of death?” Banks leaned over and peered.
    â€œI’d say so. See those little curls of bone there, like wood-shavings?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThey’re still attached to the bone, and that only happens with living bone. Also, there’s no sign of healing, is there? If she’d remained alive after these injuries, the bones would have healed to some extent, starting about ten days after the injury. So, technically, she could have been stabbed anywhere from one to ten days before she died of something else. But, as I said, it’s unlikely. Especially since the position of some of these wounds indicates the blade would most certainly have pierced vital organs. In fact, I’d conclude that she was stabbed quite viciously, more than once, almost certainly causing death. But please don’t quote me on that.”
    Banks looked at Annie Cabbot. “Murder, then,” she said.
    â€œWell, I’d hardly imagine the poor woman did it herself,” Williams agreed. “Yes, unless I’m very much mistaken, it looks like you’ve definitely got yourselves a murder victim here.”

Four
    A nnie drove up Long Hill the following morning to interview Mrs Ruby Kettering. It was another scorcher, she noted, rolling her window down. Devil-may-care this morning, she had decided not to bother wearing tights. They were damned uncomfortable in the heat. You’d certainly never catch men wearing anything quite so ridiculous.
    Long Hill began at the village green and linked Harkside to the edge of Harksmere Reservoir. Close to the centre of the village, it was the busiest shopping street, with a jumbled mix of shops and pubs, and most of the public buildings, including the borough council offices, the library, the Women’s Institute and the Mechanics Institute.
    It was early for tourists, but the shops were open and the locals were doing the rounds, shopping bags hooked over their