When Banks and Annie had left the scene, Morgan Spencer’s head was still missing, though his right arm had been discovered under some of the van wreckage. The CSIs and crash scene investigators were still searching. As soon as the rest of Morgan had been found and photographed in situ, the pieces would be delivered to Dr. Glendenning, the Home Office pathologist, in the basement of Eastvale General Infirmary, where they would be assembled for the postmortem. Banks had agreed to attend the procedure, and he was not looking forward to it. The media had also arrived in force, and there were rumors on the evening news about human body parts being found among the animals.

Leslie Palmer, the driver of the oncoming car, had been able to add nothing to his statement. He was the proprietor of a secondhand bookshop in Swainshead, on his way back home after a visit to colleagues at the Grove Bookshop in Ilkley. All he could tell the police was that Ross had been too close to the middle of the road when the sheep ran out and Palmer turned the bend. Pure bad luck. Geoff Hamilton’s team and the rest would continue to investigate the circumstances of the incident, and Peter Darby and his crash scene photographer expert from Salford would take photographs and videos, but Banks was more interested in the remains found scattered around the scene than in Caleb Ross’s unfortunate demise. As far as Banks was concerned, the pass wasn’t the real crime scene; that was still the hangar in the Drewick airfield, where he was certain that Morgan Spencer had been shot. All they needed now was more forensic evidence to back up these theories.

“Right,” said Gervaise, as soon as everyone had settled down. “Can we get down to business? It’s been a long day, and it isn’t over yet. DCI Banks?”

Banks walked to the front as Gervaise sat down. A long day, indeed. Banks remembered standing beside Morgan Spencer’s smoldering caravan in the gray dawn light. It seemed eons ago.

“It’s true that a lot’s happened,” he began, “and we’ve learned quite a bit. But we’re still missing some important pieces of the jigsaw. While Jazz has analyzed the DNA sample from the hangar and discovered that it’s human, and it belongs to one person only, we haven’t yet found any match on the database. That doesn’t mean a lot, as you know, but it does mean that we need to get a move on and broaden our search. Specifically,” he said, “we need to get a sample of Morgan Spencer’s blood analyzed as soon as possible. Given that we just found him—­or what we think is him—­in pieces scattered over the bottom of Belderfell Pass, that shouldn’t prove too difficult.”

Jazz nodded. “I’m on it.” She looked at Gervaise. “If someone could just get Harrogate CID off my back for a while, please? They’re driving me crazy over a sample I’m late with. It’s a rape case, so I can hardly blame them.”

“I’ll talk to Harrogate, Ms. Singh,” said Gervaise. “Just do your best.”

“Thanks. Well . . . one thing I can say for certain is that there was no DNA belonging to Michael Lane found in the hangar. The hairbrush DI Cabbot brought in gave us hairs with the follicle attached, which was just what we needed to check that out. No match.”

“So the body in the hangar wasn’t Lane’s,” Banks said. “And thanks to Gerry, we also know from the mobile records that it was Morgan Spencer who texted Michael Lane at 9:29 a.m. on Sunday morning. We don’t know what he wrote, of course, as we don’t have access to either his or Lane’s mobile phones, but we were able to check with the ser­vice provider against the numbers of the itemized calls. According to his partner, Alex Preston, when Michael Lane received this text, he said he had to go out to do a job, and that he might visit his father later. He left his flat at the East Side Estate shortly after 9:30, and it would have taken him about ten or fifteen minutes to get to the hangar, if that was his destination. That puts him there at about 9:45. We can also assume that the job involved Spencer, as he was the one who texted, and he and Lane were known to work together on removals and farm labor. As far as we can gather, Michael Lane never got to his father’s, and he hasn’t been seen or heard of since Sunday morning. Alex Preston assured DI Cabbot that’s out of character.”

“But can we assume that this job Lane and Spencer had to do involved the airfield and the hangar?” asked Gervaise.

“We still lack any hard evidence on that. We don’t know anything about Morgan Spencer’s movements that morning, except that he sent Lane a text at 9:29. If he stole the tractor, he may well have spent the night with it at his lockup. A number of ­people from the site do remember seeing him as usual during the day on Saturday. We’ve questioned most of the ­people at the caravan park now, and nobody admits to really knowing Spencer, or to seeing anything suspicious during the night of the fire. At the moment I’m just assuming it was his blood at the hangar because we know it wasn’t Lane’s, and we’d have to be very unlucky to have two major incidents at once. We’ll know whether Morgan was killed in the hangar when Jazz compares the blood sample with that from the crash site.”

“But how is the hangar connected with the theft of Beddoes’s tractor?” Gervaise asked.

“We don’t know that it is. Not for certain. Whatever happened there might not be connected with Morgan Spencer or Michael Lane or the tractor theft at all. I mean, why kill someone over a stolen tractor? The owner, John Beddoes, didn’t get back from Mexico until late Sunday night, so he’s in the clear. He also doesn’t need the insurance money. It’s possible that Spencer intended to meet Lane somewhere else entirely to do an honest job, then he got snatched and taken to the hangar, but none of that explains Lane’s disappearance. If he couldn’t find Spencer at the intended job site, why didn’t he just go home?”

“I still don’t like it,” Gervaise said, casting her eyes around the room. “Too much speculation. What about physical evidence?”

“Stefan found some traces of red diesel in the hangar,” said Banks. “It could have come from the tractor or some other farm vehicle permitted to use the stuff. But there was nothing else to indicate that the tractor had been there. He also found traces of other vehicles having been there, but it’s impossible to say when. We just don’t know.”

“Anything from the train companies or the news item we ran?” Gervaise asked Doug Wilson.

“No, ma’am. They said they’d check the online purchase records and put a few flyers on the route, but it’ll take time.”

“Rather like train journeys themselves,” muttered Banks.

“Is there anything else to connect the hangar with the stolen tractor?” Gervaise asked him.

“I think Winsome and Gerry might have something to report on that.”

Winsome cleared her throat and spoke without referring to her notes. “The landlord of the George and Dragon in Hallerby saw a racing green removal van large enough to carry a tractor come down the lane that leads from the airfield at just after ten o’clock on Sunday morning,” she said. “Headed in the direction of the A1. He got a brief look at the driver and said he was wearing a flat cap and had muttonchop sideburns. The lorry had no markings. He didn’t see the number plate.”

“What sort of car does Michael Lane drive, again?” Banks asked Annie.

“A clapped-­out gray Peugeot.”

“Has it been seen?”

“Not since he went out on Sunday morning. And nothing from the airlines or credit card company. He’s off our radar.”

Banks thought he might need another chat with Joanna MacDonald. She was his key to the magic world of ANPR. Cars could be tracked anywhere in the country. “And do we know what Morgan Spencer drives?” he asked the room at large.

“A motorcycle,” said Doug Wilson. “According to his neighbor, he’s got a Yamaha. He usually keeps it parked beside his caravan, but it wasn’t there when DI Cabbot and I visited yesterday, and we don’t know where it is now.”