She sighed and blew a silent kiss to Mikey’s grave, which now lay behind a curtain of mist, sealing them off from the rest of the world two hundred feet in each direction.

A Volvo estate pulled onto a dirt patch at the top of the site.

Kim walked over as Professor Milton and two men exited the vehicle.

‘Detective, good to see you again.’

Kim saw a remarkable change in the demeanour of the professor since the previous day. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes bright. His gait was sprightly and purposeful. If that was after one night in the care of Mrs Pearson, she might consider booking in herself.

He turned to his companions as Bryant materialised beside her. ‘This is Darren Brown and Carl Newton. They’re volunteers that were scheduled to assist on my dig. They’ll be operating the equipment.’

Kim felt obliged to come clean with the professor after the trouble he had taken.

‘You know this is a hunch, Professor? There may be nothing down there.’

His eyes were serious and his voice low. ‘But what if there is, Detective? I’ve been trying to excavate this land for two years and someone has done their level best to stop me. I’d like to know why.’

Kim was satisfied that he understood.

A Vauxhall Astra pulled in beside the professor’s car. A portly male in his fifties got out of the car, followed by a tall, red-headed woman Kim guessed to be in her late twenties.

‘David, thank you for coming,’ Kim said.

‘I don’t recall there being a great deal of choice, Detective,’ he said with a half-smile.

‘Professor Milton, please meet Doctor Matthews.’

The two men shook hands.

Kim had met Doctor David Matthews at the University of Glamorgan which, together with Cardiff University and South Wales police, formed a unique organisation in the UK called the Universities Police Science Institute. It was dedicated to research and training in police-related matters.

Doctor Matthews was an advisor for the Glamorgan Centre for Police Sciences and had been instrumental in setting up the Crime Scene Investigation House at the university.

Kim had attended a seminar there two years earlier and had offered a couple of suggestions for improvement to the scenario training based on her own crime scene experience, which had resulted in her staying on for the weekend.

‘May I introduce Cerys Hughes. She is a fully qualified archaeologist and has just completed a degree in forensic science.’

Kim nodded in her direction.

‘Okay, it’s important you both understand that we have no authority here as yet. My boss is working on the red tape so nothing can be disturbed until the paperwork is in order. If you suspect the presence of anything at all, let me know.’

David Matthews stepped forward. ‘You have three hours of our time for these shenanigans and if nothing is detected by then we will be on our way.’

Kim nodded. Three hours of his time for two days of hers. Yep, that seemed fair.

He continued. ‘Cerys and I will cut a small feature at the top of the land to begin analysing the soil.’

Kim nodded towards Cerys. The fiery red hair was cut in a sleek bob that rested just below a square jaw line. Her pale blue eyes were piercing. Not naturally beautiful, she had a face that was intriguing, that drew attention.

The woman acknowledged her without smiling and followed David as he walked towards the top edge of the site.

A white Escort van took the last space on the dirt patch.

A woman opened the rear doors. A steaming urn and foil wrapped packages were inside.

Bryant chuckled. ‘Did my imagination just conjure her up?’

‘No, she’s real. Make sure everyone gets a hot drink and a bacon sandwich before they start.’

Bryant smiled. ‘You know, Guv, at times ...’

Kim didn’t hear the rest of his words as she was already heading down the hill towards the derelict building.

She walked the perimeter of the fence but there was no access point. The front of the building faced onto the road and the houses opposite. Too many prying eyes. She returned to the rear and started looking for an area of vulnerability.

The fencing was not a traditional design of slatted pieces overlaying each other. Each panel was made of strong, thick wood normally used for pallets and lay flush with the one above and below. A tiny sliver of daylight escaped between each nine-inch piece.

She pushed at one of the tall wooden fence posts. It moved back and forth, the bottom of the post rotted in the ground.

‘Don’t even think about it, Guv,’ Bryant said, offering her a hot drink. She took it in her left hand and continued to work her way along the posts. The next two were steady but the fourth rocked to and fro.

‘How’d you get Doctor Matthews here? Did you bully him?’

‘Define bullying,’ she said, pushing at the next post.

‘Probably best I don’t know. Plausible deniability and all that.’

‘It doesn’t hurt to have the presence of a forensic archaeologist on site.’

‘Course not, except that at this point we have no authorisation to instruct anyone to do anything.’

Kim shrugged.

‘What if there’s nothing down there?’

‘Then we all get to go home for tea. But if there is, we have a head start. Doctor Matthews is fully qualified to ...’

‘Oh, I know. He’s just given me his entire education history but Woody said nothing is to be touched until the paperwork is in order.’

‘See, now you’re just being pedantic.’

‘Just trying to protect your ass, Guv.’

‘My ass is fine. You should worry more about your own if you’re planning to eat that second bacon bap in your pocket.’

‘How did you know?’

Kim shook her head. Because he would have brought one down for her, even though he knew she probably wouldn’t touch it.

She stood away from the fence and drained her coffee cup. ‘Now, more importantly, should I go over or through?’

Bryant groaned. ‘How about away from it?’

‘Not one of the options I gave.’

‘We have no authority to enter.’

‘Either help me or leave me to it. Your choice.’

She set the empty cup on the ground as Bryant sighed heavily.

‘If you try to go through you’ll be leaving the area vulnerable for kids.’

‘Over it is then,’ Kim said, heading for the middle section of slats between the two stable fence posts. She aimed a kick at one of the panels level with her thigh. It splintered. She kicked it again and the panel cracked in half. She pushed the broken slats inwards so that the stable piece below could be used as a step.

In one fluid movement she put the toe of her left boot on top of the slat and used Bryant’s shoulder to push herself up. She grabbed the stable post to her left, threw her right leg over the top of the fence and into the gap on the other side. As she straddled the top of the fence she took a second to steady her balance before bringing her left leg over the top and into the gap. She jumped down backwards, bending her knees to absorb the impact.

The grass around the building was tall and full of nettles. Kim navigated her way to the only cracked window she could see on the ground floor. The height of the fencing had protected the lower windows but all the glass on the upper level had been smashed through.

She spied a grey tin rubbish bin. She removed the lid and smashed it against the damaged window pane.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Bryant called.

She ignored him and knocked out another couple of pieces of glass, then took the bin, turned it upside down and stood on it. She carefully folded herself in through the broken window onto a formica unit top that ran the entire length of the wall, pausing only for a double sink.

She looked inside and saw the fire-damaged walls of the kitchen. Kim read that the fire had originated in there. The walls were blackest near the door that led into the corridor. Cobweb curtains adorned every corner of the room.