The laws of physics dictated that he should have fallen to the floor but the angle of the back of his neck over the top of the chair had kept him in place; the back of his head resting like a hook.

The gaping wound displayed yellow, fatty tissue torn apart by a blade. Blood had spurted onto the wall opposite and drained down his chest, forming a macabre bib. His T-shirt and joggers were sodden red and the stench of metal almost overwhelmed her.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Bryant offered from behind.

Keats shook his head. ‘One of you needs to fire their scriptwriter.’

Kim ignored him as she committed the scene to memory. She stood above the body and looked down. The eyes of the male were open and wide. His face bore the expression of the horror below.

She saw the empty bottle of whisky on the floor. ‘Alcohol at this time?’ she asked.

‘I think half of the bottle is inside him and the other half is in the carpet. It’s a damn waste. Johnnie Walker Blue sells for over a hundred a bottle.’

‘Bryant, go ... ’

‘On my way.’

Bryant turned and headed back to the lounge. He was much better with distraught females than she was. In her company they often cried more.

She walked around the body, examining the scene from every angle. Nothing in the immediate area was disturbed and no struggle seemed to have taken place.

A white suit hovered around her.

‘Detective, Keegan here is too polite to ask you to move but I’m not,’ Keats said. ‘Stand back so he can do his job.’

Kim shot Keats a look but stepped back into the corner of the room. With satisfaction she noted that the hem on his right trouser leg was down but damn that smidge of decency that kept the observation on the right side of her lips.

Keegan took digital photographs and then took out a disposable camera and repeated the process.

‘His wallet is upstairs so it wasn’t robbery,’ Keats offered, standing beside her.

Kim already knew that for a fact.

‘Type of knife?’

‘I’d say plastic handle, seven inch kitchen knife normally used for cutting bread.’

‘Detailed description for a prelim exam?’

He shrugged. ‘Or it could just be the one in the sink covered in blood.’

‘He was murdered with his own damn bread knife?’

‘Detective, I wouldn’t like to commit myself too early but,’ he lowered his voice and leaned towards her. ‘I’d hazard a guess that foul play was involved.’

Kim rolled her eyes. Great, today everyone was a comedian.

‘Method of entry?’

‘Patio door left open to let the cat in and out.’

‘Good to see the “Secure Home” campaign was successful.’

Kim stepped closer to the patio door. A technician stood outside, dusting the handle. She studied every inch of the area.

Her gaze paused and she crouched down.

She assessed the back garden; a mixture of gravel and slabs. A clean fence lined the perimeter.

‘Keats, who from this team was at Teresa Wyatt's house the other night?’

He glanced at the technicians present. ‘That would be just myself.’

So, it was just the two of them.

‘Are you wearing the same shoes?’

‘Detective, my footwear ...’

‘Keats, just answer me.’

He paused for a few seconds, now moving towards her. ‘No, I am not.’

And neither was she.

‘Look,’ she said, pointing.

He squinted at the object, which was no more than an inch long.

‘Golden Conifer,’ he observed.

Their eyes met as they both realised the repercussions of the discovery.

‘Whisky’s a bit of a puzzle, Guv,’ Bryant said, appearing beside her. ‘Our guy was a recovering alcoholic. Been on the wagon for about two years. The wife states that the bottle wasn’t in the house this morning and he would never have left the house dressed like that. Also, he’s got the same money in his wallet as he did when she left the house. She still checks.’

Kim stood and took an evidence marker from the tech bag. ‘Why would the killer bring the whisky?’

Bryant shrugged. ‘Dunno, but he had congestive heart failure so the whisky would probably have been enough.’

Kim was puzzled. The murderer had brought a bottle of alcohol, somehow aware that it would probably prove fatal to Tom Curtis, but had almost beheaded him anyway. It made no sense.

‘Our killer could have just delivered the bottle and left the scene but that wasn’t enough. Why?’

‘Sicko wanted to send a message?’

‘Either the killer knew of his heart condition but wanted to add the personal touch ‒ or it was a tool to subdue him, to make the job easier.’

Bryant shook his head as Kim’s mobile phone rang.

‘Stone.’

‘Guv, what’s the full name of your victim?’

‘Tom Curtis … why?’ she asked, hearing the breathlessness in Dawson’s tone. Her stomach rolled at what she knew she was about to hear.

‘You’re not gonna believe this, but there was a head chef at Crestwood children’s home ten years ago. His name was Tom Curtis.’

Fifteen

‘Thanks for letting me drive back, Guv. My nerves couldn’t take another roller coaster.’

‘Yeah well, this ain’t Driving Miss Daisy and I do want to get back to the station before next weekend.’

Bryant headed towards Halesowen and Kim took out her phone. She redialled a number she’d called earlier.

‘Professor Milton ... yes ... Hello. About our discussion earlier, is everything in place?’

‘I’ve made some calls, my dear, and I think I can help with your request.’

‘I appreciate that but we now appear to have a second body related to this case and urgency is of the utmost importance.’

She heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘It will be done, Detective.’

She thanked him and ended the call.

‘What was all that about?’

‘Never you mind, just keep driving.’

By the time Bryant pulled into the car park she had called ahead to make a request for a brief meeting with Woody so she entered the building and headed straight for the third floor.

Kim knocked on Woody’s door and entered just a second before he instructed her to do so.

‘Stone, this had better be good. I was in the middle of ...’

‘Sir, the Teresa Wyatt case is much more complicated than we first thought.’

‘How so?’

Kim took a deep breath. ‘On the day she was murdered, our victim made a call to a Professor Milton who had just received authorisation to excavate an area of land in Rowley Regis.

‘She initially asked to be included in the project but was turned down. Then she became quite interested in the area concerned.’

‘What significance is in the land?’

‘It’s the site of the old children’s home.’

‘Next to the crematorium?’

Kim nodded. ‘Both Teresa Wyatt and Tom Curtis are ex-staff members. In the few days since he was granted permission to excavate the land the professor's life has been threatened and his dog killed. And two previous employees of Crestwood have been murdered.’

Woody stared at a spot on the wall behind her. He was already reading the headlines.

‘Sir, someone does not want that ground disturbed.’

‘Stone, don’t go at this at warp speed. There are a lot of politics involved.’

‘The equipment will be on site tomorrow.’

His jaw tensed. ‘Stone, you know that’s impossible. There are all sorts of things we need to do.’

‘With all due respect, Sir, that’s your worry not mine. With the momentum this case is gathering, we really don’t have the luxury of waiting that long.’

He considered her words for a moment. ‘I want you on site first thing in the morning and nothing gets dug, not one shovel hits that earth until you get confirmation from me.’