*It's likely going to be asphyxiation, plastic bag over the head . . . or thirst or starvation . . . in lessening degrees of mercy. Asphyxiation takes a matter of minutes, thirst will take a few days . . . but if the victim is allowed fluid then starvation could take weeks.'

*We wondered about the possibility of them freezing to death?'

*Yes, hypothermia, that is indeed a fourth possibility, which will take a short time in the depths of winter and will also leave no trace upon the skeleton. Poison is an unlikely fifth, as is drowning, but those two might and will leave traces respectively. Heavy poisons such as a.r.s.enic and cyanide will leave traces, alcohol won't. But I will be able to tell if they were drowned . . . but the absence of a body of water in the area leads me to think it unlikely.'

*I would think so too, ma'am, the fact that they were restrained and attached to a long chain makes me think that they were alive when they were abandoned . . . alive and conscious . . . from a police officer's point of view.'

*I would be inclined to agree with you, Chief Inspector, from a forensic pathologist's point of view,' she tapped her forefingers lightly on the rim of the table, *from the perpetrator's point of view, I would think he'd want a rapid onset of death . . . he would abandon them to thirst or hypothermia. He wouldn't return each day with a plentiful supply of water to keep them alive until they starved . . . too risky. So logic, not scientific a.n.a.lysis, points to hypothermia or thirst as the likely cause of death, depending upon the time of year they were chained up and abandoned. But that is encroaching on your area of expertise. Sorry.'

*Encroach all you like.'

*Thank you, but I suppose that that is my way of apologizing for being unlikely to find a cause of death. I think my expertise, modest as it is, will be confined to doing what I can to a.s.sist in the identification of the deceased, especially since one victim had sustained a distinct head injury much earlier in her life.'

*That's still very, very useful, thank you.' Hennessey then glanced at Eric Filey and repeated, *Thank you.' George Hennessey had come to like Filey a great deal, and come to respect him; young, slightly rotund, not only was he clearly sufficiently good at his job that he impressed Dr D'Acre but, unlike other pathology laboratory a.s.sistants whom Hennessey had met, Filey possessed a warmth about him and approached his employment with a good-humoured att.i.tude, although when circ.u.mstances demanded, as at that moment, he was capable of demonstrating sincere reverence.

Dr D'Acre used a stainless steel length of metal to prise open the jaw of the skeleton. *Definitely Caucasian or white European . . . the skull is northern European in appearance, and could also be Asian, but the teeth confirm it . . . definitely northern European in terms of race . . . and there is some dental work which may prove very useful in determining her ident.i.ty. As you know, dentists have to keep their records for eleven years. This particular victim was murdered, or at least lost her life, within the last eleven years. Probably in the last two or three, and the dentistry appears to be British.

So someone, some dentist, will have a record of her dental work and that is as unique as a fingerprint. Human teeth are like snowflakes . . . no two sets are ever the same.'

*That will also be very helpful,' Hennessey spoke softly, *very helpful indeed.'

*Yes, the field is narrowing . . . no males as yet . . . and just glancing at the other skulls here, and recalling the fifth victim in the drawer, it seems that all are northern European in terms of race.'

*The field is narrowing, as you say, ma'am. We don't need to look for males or people of ethnic minority in our missing person files.'

Dr D'Acre smiled and mouthed, *Thank you', at Hennessey and then said, *I do like to be of some use.' She then addressed Eric Filey. *Can you hand me the tape measure, please, Eric?'

Dr D'Acre extended the tape measure whilst Eric Filey held the tape at the head of the corpse, until it reached the feet. *Tall lady,' Dr D'Acre commented, *five foot ten inches, or about a hundred and seventy-eight centimetres in Eurospeak. Add an inch on to that to allow for the shrinking of the cartilage and the decay of the flesh beneath the feet, then she would have been nearly six foot in life. She was also a young woman, about twenty-five years old, no older, possibly younger.'

*Again, very useful to know, there won't be many six-feet tall women in our mis per files. Hardly any in fact . . . and possibly just one . . . but only if she is local,' Hennessey added, *only if she is local. I do so hope that some day we'll have a national missing person's database . . . the National Missing Persons Helpline is a charity. It has been useful in the past but we need nationally held mis per records on the Police National Computer.'

*Yes,' Dr D'Acre replied softly, *that would make things much easier for all concerned. I am afraid I am close to completing here. All I can do now is remove one of the teeth and age it, that way I can tell how old she was when she died, plus or minus one year, and detach the skull and send it to the forensic science laboratory at Wetherby for facial reconstruction by computer modelling, so you might then have some idea of her appearance when alive . . . but as for cause of death . . . we will never know, not by post-mortem examination anyway. All information for your attention will be with you asap.'

*A very interesting patient, very interesting indeed, and very popular with the reception staff and our visiting nurses.' Dr Richard March smiled warmly at Webster as he momentarily took his eyes off the computer monitor on his desk. *Yes, got his details up on the screen. Old boy, died of respiratory failure.'

Webster's face broadened into a smile.

*You find that funny?' March's smile faded rapidly.

*Frankly, yes, I do, but not in a spiteful way, I a.s.sure you. What I mean is . . . what I find amusing is the term because what does "respiratory failure" mean but "stopped breathing"?'

March chuckled. *I see . . . yes, quite true, but so many relatives of elderly patients need something more than "stopped breathing" and as doctors we can't put "stopped breathing" on a death certificate, if we do then our credibility is out of the window. The term "respiratory failure" gives relatives a reason for death or a cause of same . . . but as you say, all it means is that the person in question just stopped breathing. It's only used in the case of elderly people who are closely monitored up to the end . . . never on a younger, healthier person who dies suddenly. For that we have the diagnosis of Sudden Death Syndrome and in infants it is Sudden Infant Death Syndrome . . . but for geriatrics who have run their race and who die in their sleep, then "respiratory failure" it is. Mr Housecarl did contract a mild chest infection at the time of his death, but that might be because his immune system was shutting down and so allowed infection in. In the end, it was just the case that Mr Housecarl was one of those persons whose life had run its course and that was it. So "respiratory failure", though I knew he was about to die because he had had a visit . . . his brother.'

*A visit?'

*Yes, people who work in terminal care often know when one of their patients is about to expire because they will report that a predeceased relative has visited them. You'll hear it often in geriatric care, a nurse will approach her colleagues and say "Mrs Smith's just had her visit . . . she won't be long now", and sure enough, within three or four days said Mrs Smith will die quietly, often in her sleep. In just that manner, when I last visited Mr Housecarl he told me that "Tommy" had visited him. Upon enquiring who "Tommy" was I learned that Thomas Housecarl had died in New Zealand some twenty years earlier. "Tommy" had appeared to Mr Housecarl and two days later he was deceased. And patients that receive such visits are lucid, not suffering from dementia.'

*That's very interesting.' Webster sat back in the upright chair which was beside the doctor's desk and faced the doctor who sat at the desk. It was clearly the patient's chair in Dr March's surgery and was, thought Webster, a preferable arrangement to that chosen by his own doctor who kept a large desk, barrier-like, between himself and his patient.

*It is, isn't it?' Dr March, Webster found, was a doctor with a warm and cheery manner. His surgery looked out on to a brick wall, probably within reaching distance, and yet enjoyed a plentiful supply of natural light. It could not be overlooked from the outside and as such, was the only surgery that Webster had been in which did not have net curtains or some other means of preventing anyone outside from looking in on a consultation. *Unsettling also. So what can I tell you about Mr Housecarl?'

*We need to establish the pattern of his life for some years prior to his death and also need to find his ex-employees.'

*May I ask why?'

*Yes, I can tell you, there is going to be a press release issued later today because we will need public a.s.sistance. There has been a discovery on his land; in the kitchen garden of Bromyards . . . though Mr Housecarl is not under suspicion.'

*A discovery? A dead body?' March asked with a slight smile.

*Yes, in fact. You sound like you know something, sir?'

*No, I can't help you . . . it was just a logical deduction that it would take that sort of discovery to prompt a police officer to press me for my time in a very busy day and accept being squeezed in between morning surgery and "rounds". So is that what it is . . . a dead body?'

*Yes, five in fact.'

*Five!'

*And we are still searching the garden, it's badly overgrown and so there may be more corpses to be found. It's a big case . . .'

*Oh my,' March sat forward and held his head in his hands, *I am astounded. Years, you say?'

*Yes, sir.'

*But Mr Housecarl only died recently. You mean that all the while myself and the nurse . . . and the Meals on Wheels folk . . . all the while that we were visiting there were bodies in the kitchen garden . . . the enclosed garden beside the house?'

*Yes, sir.' Webster paused. *The last body was probably deposited there only a few months ago. The Home Office Pathologist won't be drawn on the time of death.'

*I bet he won't.'

*She, actually, sir.'

*She then. I tell you, the luxury of time of death being able to be determined is for TV programmes. It's very hard to determine the time of death in actuality. You know, from the time that the person was last seen alive to the time the body was found is a near as science can get to determining the actual time of death.'

*Yes, sir.'

*And corpses don't always cool either. In the tropics a body will heat up after death and will then begin to cool. That can throw a real spanner in the works.'

*Yes, sir . . . as you say. But the other victims were practically all skeletons . . . though some final victims still showed traces of internal organs.'

*I see . . . yes, I see your need to establish Mr Housecarl's life pattern.'

*We understand that in his final months he lived in just one room?'

*Yes,' Dr March pursed his lips and nodded briefly, *yes, that was the case, and for years, not months. The last three or four years of his life he spent living in that little room, leaving only to use the bathroom opposite it. He kept himself alive by eating out of tins and on the meals the visiting catering service brought for him a few times each week.'

*He wouldn't move to a smaller house?'

*Wouldn't consider it, that was totally out of the question for him. He was fully compos mentis . . . remember he had a "visit" from his brother Tommy . . .'

*Yes,' Webster tapped his pen on his notepad, *as we agreed, very interesting.'

*But the point is . . . is that he was compos mentis . . . couldn't enforce his relocation under the mental health legislation. He explained to me once that if he abandoned Bromyards he would feel that he was letting down his ancestry. As you may know, the house has been in the Housecarl family for nearly three hundred years.'

*Yes.'

*The original house looked different, it was smaller, a much more modest building. It was expanded during the Victorian era when the family really came into very serious money . . . but it was the same family who owned it. He felt sad that he was going to be the last of the Housecarls but he accepted that the end of each dynasty has to come some time.'

*Yes.'

*And so the least he could do, he said, was to ensure that when he does leave Bromyards, he is carried out feet first. He felt he owed that to his forebears . . . and he had everything upstairs.' March tapped the side of his head. *In here he was as bright as a b.u.t.ton, his body was failing but his mind was sharp and as a consequence of that, he had the right to self-determination . . . and said right we have to respect.'

*Of course,' Webster spoke softly; he felt the reverence owed to the consulting room. *He was no harm to himself or others and Bromyards wasn't standing in the way of a proposed motorway development.'

*No . . . listed building anyway. It might fall down because of neglect but it is protected under the terms of the National Monuments Act and can't be demolished.'

*So, to confirm our belief and fully remove all suspicion, he could not, in your medically qualified opinion, be party to anything untoward which was going on outside the house?'

*No . . . not physically part of it and I can't see him giving permission for anything like that. He was a gentleman of the old school . . . a man of principle.' Dr March pursed his lips. *No, he wouldn't have known anything about it.' March paused. *He was a hermit for many years. He had a carer . . . an a.s.sistant . . . I met her once . . . jolly lady. Now what was her name? What on earth was it? It was a name which I thought seemed to fit her personality. Charles d.i.c.kens could have named her . . . you know how d.i.c.kens suggested the personality of his character by the names he chose for them?'

*I didn't know that.'

*Oh, yes . . . like Mr Gradgrind the schoolmaster . . . and the boy pickpocket called the Artful Dodger . . . his characters have well-suited names and this lady had a name that d.i.c.kens would have pounced on . . . what was it? Mrs Mirth . . . no . . . M something . . . she came into a room like a ray of sunshine and she was introduced and I thought how apt . . . Merryweather!' March smiled and looked pleased with himself. *That was it, Mrs Penelope "Penny" Merryweather, and a jolly soul was she, salt of the earth . . . milk of human kindness sort of individual . . . lovely lady. She was the last of the staff at Bromyards, the last to be laid off . . . and I had the impression that she was the sort of employee who did more than her job. She seemed to have a devotion to Nicholas Housecarl. She'll be the lady to ask . . . hers will be the brains to pick about the matter of the old boy's retreat, but I think he abandoned the grounds about twenty years ago. I recall visiting about twenty years ago, when he was still living in the downstairs rooms and sleeping in an upstairs bedroom, and as I drove away I recall remarking that the hedge on the approach road . . .'

*Too long to call a drive,' Webster smiled.

*Yes, "drive" just does not convey the road from the public highway to the house, "approach road" is more apt . . . but to continue . . . as I was driving down the approach road I noticed that the privet was overdue for a trim, which it never got, and in hindsight that was the beginning of the retreat. He was letting the garden go. It was beginning then to slide into its present unkempt state. He had a few gardeners . . . head gardener and his under gardeners and the "boy", but one by one they were laid off. Then the house staff went, until only the ray-of-sunshine Mrs Penny Merryweather remained . . . and then even she too was laid off.'

*We'll have to trace her.' Webster glanced at a wallchart that showed the muscles of the human body.

*She will be a good person to talk to, I'm sure, and she should still be with us. She'll be in her sixties now, but today that's no age at all.'

*Do you know if Mr Housecarl had any visitors?'

*The meal delivery service . . . the district nurse . . . myself. There was an arrangement whereby the rear door was kept open to allow us access . . . by open I mean unlocked.'

*Risky.'

*Not without its risks, I concede, but it was not as though it was an unsecured door on a "sink estate" or on a house in a fashionable suburb. A felon wouldn't stumble across Bromyards; he'd have to know it was there.'

Webster smiled warmly, *That's a good point, sir, very pertinent indeed. I'll pa.s.s that up to my boss.' He stood, *Well, thank you, this has indeed been useful. So we can rule out Mr Housecarl as being a part of this.'

*Yes, I think you can. And it means that I can go to his funeral. I don't attend the funerals of all my patients but I want to attend this, although there won't be many there.'

*Where is it and when?'

*I don't know, I'll have to find that out. The funeral director is Canverrie and Son of York.'

Webster scribbled the name on his notepad.

It was Thursday, 12.17 p.m.

George Hennessey relaxed in his chair and read, and then re-read, the report which had been faxed to him from Dr D'Acre for his urgent attention. He read that, as Dr D'Acre had antic.i.p.ated, she had not, she regretted, been able to establish the cause of death in any of the five corpses which had been found in the kitchen garden at Bromyards. Though she hoped her findings could help in identifying the victims. Each, she was able to confirm, was female. Each was an adult, although the age at death appeared to be varied, all had some degree of dental work, and all said dental work appeared to be British in nature. They were not foreign women. All were northern European in respect of their ethnicity. No personal artefacts were found on the skeletons, no rings or watches or bracelets, nor were there any evidence of clothing found, no zip fasteners or plastic b.u.t.tons, for example. The latest victim had in life been a tall, young woman (her skull had not properly knitted together, thus placing her age at less than twenty-five years) probably standing about five foot eleven, or even six foot, in life. By contrast, the other four skeletons were all significantly shorter, none taller than five feet five inches when alive. Dr D'Acre's report concluded with an apology for not being more helpful.

*Still very helpful though,' he murmured as he placed the report in the thickening folder, as yet marked only as *Bromyards a 10/6' and then glanced up in response to a gentle tap on the door frame of his office. Carmen Pharoah stood in the doorway, looking pleased with herself, Hennessey observed. He also saw that she held a manila folder in her right hand.

*DC Pharoah,' Hennessey greeted her warmly, *do come in and take a pew.'

Carmen Pharoah walked silently on rubber-soled shoes into Hennessey's office and sat with a natural grace of movement on one of the upright chairs in front of Hennessey's desk. She glanced hurriedly out of the small window of Hennessey's office at the medieval walls of York, then bathed in sunshine and crowded with brightly dressed tourists. She turned to Hennessey. *We might have a match to the deceased, sir. Well, one of them, I should say.'

*Oh? I am impressed.'

*Yes, sir.' She opened the folder she carried.

Hennessey held up a fleshy hand, *Just tell me the gist.'

*Well, sir, I read the preliminary findings in the file . . . and I thought . . . not many six-foot tall women in York . . . and the age, twenty-five years or younger . . . well, sir, to get to the point, this is the missing persons file on one Veronica Goodwin.'

*Goodwin?' Hennessey commented. *As in Goodwin Sands?'

*Yes, same spelling . . . an "I" not a "y" and just one "n", so Goodwin . . . not Goodwynee. Just plain Goodwin, nothing fancy.'

*Very well.'

*Well, she was twenty-three years of age when she was reported missing, about eighteen months ago. She was a Caucasian, or northern European, and stood six feet tall.'

*It's worth a bet. If I were a betting man, I would say we have the ident.i.ty of one of the victims. What were the circ.u.mstances of her disappearance?'

*According to the file, sir, she went out for the night with her girlfriends and didn't come home. This was eighteen months ago . . . so winter before last . . . in the January of the year.'

Hennessey leaned forward, rested his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands together. *You know, I think you're right, I think that we have found Veronica Goodwin, local girl, right height and age. We should have an EFIT soon; Dr D'Acre has sent her skull . . . and will doubtless be sending the other four skulls to Wetherby so a computer generated likeness can be developed. But, if there are living relatives the DNA will confirm her ID.'

*As will her dental records, sir.'

*Yes, as you say, as will her dental records. What was her home address?'

*Cemetery Road, Fulford, sir.'

Hennessey raised an eyebrow, *Well, how appropriate.'

*Yes . . . thought that, sir.' She took a photograph from the file and handed it to Hennessey, *Veronica Goodwin in life, sir.'

Hennessey took the photograph and studied it. He saw a thin-faced, but quite attractive, young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, smiling confidently at the camera. The eyes seemed to exude a sense of warmth and sincerity. Importantly, her smile revealed her teeth. He handed the photograph back to Carmen Pharoah. *Get that photograph to Wetherby by courier.'

*Yes, sir.'

*They can compare the teeth to the teeth in the skull. If they match, we have a result, a definite, positive identification of the last victim. Do that immediately.'

*Yes, sir.' Carmen Pharoah stood.