“What about the evidence? The screwdriver?”

“I think someone was trying to frame him,” Killian said, “but I have no idea who.”

“What now?”

“Back to square one. We go through what we have once more and see if anything jumps out at us.”

“Three people have died in less than a week. Milly Lancaster, Dennis Albarn and the mystery man in the fishing net. We have no idea what really happened to any of them. If they’re not linked, then it’s even weirder. And it’s driving me crazy.”

“I have to get back to the hospital. Sorry. Megan will be expecting me.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor told him. “I didn’t know till recently that she was ill.”

“It’s been more than ten years now. Some days are better than others. It makes me question everything we’re doing, you know. I’ve always believed everyone deserves a chance, but my Megan has never hurt anybody in her life and yet she’s made to suffer. And there are cold-blooded murderers out there living the life of Riley.”

Killian’s sudden outburst took Taylor by surprise. She had never heard her boss talk like that before.

“I’m just tired.” He gave her an unconvincing smile. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Anything you want me to do in the meantime?”

“Kill two birds with one stone. Head down to the mortuary and see what Jon Finch can tell you about Dennis Albarn and that poor bastard who ended up in the fishing net.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It was Taylor’s first time at the Trotterdown mortuary. In fact it was the first time she’d had to identify a body since Danny’s. She still remembered the feeling of utter nothingness as she gazed at his face. She’d felt precisely zero, and then when she did start feeling something she’d been more angry than sad. Angry that Danny had left her alone to deal with the damage he had caused while he was alive.

Dr Jon Finch turned out to be very thin and tall. He had black hair and the most piercing blue eyes Taylor had ever seen.

“DC Harriet Taylor?” he said. “Take a seat. I have some very interesting news for you.”

He smiled and his blue eyes looked even brighter. She could not help staring at them for slightly longer than was appropriate under the circumstances.

“I get them from my father,” Finch said. “The eyes. They’re a curse some times.”

She blushed. The faint smell of aftershave lingered in the air. Taylor recognised it — Danny had worn it.

“Let’s start with the man whose other half seems to have deserted him, shall we,” Finch said. “Please excuse my sense of humour. I’m afraid a rather black sense of humour goes with the job.”

You ought to spend some time with a certain paramedic I know, Taylor thought.

“This is certainly an interesting one,” the doctor went on. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard on the desk. “Identity unknown, I’m afraid — chopped in half. It wasn’t a shark attack like they’re saying on the news. Sharks leave a lot of uneven jagged lacerations. This poor bugger’s been sliced in half a lot more cleanly.”

“I know. I saw the body. Do you have any idea how it happened?”

“A sharp piece of metal, if I were to hazard a guess. Don’t quote me, though. But I do know roughly when it happened and I do know he’d been dead for quite some time before someone cut him up.”

“How long?”

“I’d say around a week. Maybe a bit less.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. If he’d been in the water that long, how did he get chopped in half?”

“Ah, there’s the rub.” Finch clapped his hands together. “Firstly, he was only in the water a matter of hours and, secondly, he was dead before he hit the water. There was no water in his lungs and he’s almost undamaged by the water. Believe me, if he’d been in the sea for that amount of time, he’d be looking very different.”

“Are you saying somebody killed him, waited almost a week, chopped him up and threw him in the sea?”

“Well, it looks like it. But that’s just my guess.”

“OK.” Taylor was finding it hard to take all of this in. “He was killed, chopped up and thrown in the sea. Do you know what killed him?”

“His brains were bashed in. Literally. He suffered a large number of heavy blows to the back of the head.”

“Murder?”

“Looks like it. Somebody bashed him over the head, kept him around for almost a week and then chopped him in two. His ring finger was severed too, whatever that signifies.”

“His ring finger?”

“Yes it doesn’t look like it was cut off accidentally.”

“What about Dennis Albarn? Surely that was an accident?”

“Mr Albarn is one of the worst burns cases I’ve ever come across. He had burns to over ninety percent of his body. It would have been an agonising death if he’d been alive before he was incinerated. But he wasn’t. Just as our half-man had no water in his lungs, there were no traces of smoke in Albarn’s. Fire and water. It’s like something out of an opera, isn’t it?”

Fire and water, Taylor thought. What the hell is going on here?

“If you don’t mind, I have an appointment in half an hour. I’ll have the reports sent over when I’ve finished them.”

“Thank you,” Taylor said. “Thank you for making things even more complicated than they already were.”

“Always a pleasure.” Finch offered his hand. “I’m not usually this forward,” he added, “but if you should need any more information, I’d be happy to discuss it over a drink or two.”

He took out a card and handed it to Taylor.

“My mobile number’s on the back,” he said, “should you decide to take that risk. I’m quite harmless.”

“I’ll give it some serious consideration,” she replied.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Murder?” Killian sank his head in his hands. “Are you saying Dennis Albarn and the man found in the fishing nets were both murdered? Are you sure?”

“Positive. Dr Finch is very thorough,” Taylor said.

“What else did he give you?”

“The man the fisherman found had been dead for almost a week when he was thrown into the sea, and Albarn had no smoke in his lungs. He was dead before the explosion.”

“What the hell is going on around here? First it’s Milly Lancaster and now these two. We’re going to be working around the clock from now on. Who else knows about this?”

“Just Dr Finch.”

“Let’s keep it that way for the time being. Once the press get hold of it, and they will, all hell is going to break loose. I need time to think things through before the hoards start phoning in, demanding to know what’s going on.”

“Do you think the three murders are connected?”

“I have no idea. What can possibly link them together?”

“Fire and water. And possibly air. Milly Lancaster’s car flew through the air before she hit the rocks below Merryhead.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Just thinking out loud,” Taylor said. “Earth, fire, water and air. The four elements, in all kinds of different belief systems.”

“Are you suggesting there’s some maniac out there killing people and disposing of the bodies in ways corresponding to these elements? In Cornwall?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. And frankly, Cornwall’s probably more likely than Scotland.”

“We may have our share of alternative types but they’re mostly tree-huggers, not murderers. What else do we know about these three?”

“They were roughly the same age. And Milly Lancaster and Dennis Albarn knew each other.”

“Everybody knows everybody else around here. It’s a small community.”

“Do we know anything more about the man found in the fishing nets?” Taylor felt it was her turn to start asking questions.