Damned by Logic by Jeffrey Ashford Read Free Book Online

pheasant rose in a flutter of wings. They cleared the trees and flew towards the large kale field beyond which, in winter, would be good holding ground.
    At the end of the ride, he turned into another. Within twenty yards of the road, he noticed newly disturbed brambles to his left. Local and not-so-local young couples favoured the woods during the summer evenings and nights and left visible evidence of their enjoyment on the ground. Dirty young scrubbers, his wife called the females; lucky young sods was his description of the males. Close to the disturbance he saw something which intrigued him until he identified it as the naked body of a woman who had seemingly been savaged by a wild animal.

SEVEN
    T he area from the road and around the body had been secured by police tape; following a careful search by SOCOs, four pegs, with numbered plastic labels attached, had been stuck into the ground, marking where something of possible significance had been found or noted. Two footprints were being cast with plaster when Detective Inspector Glover escorted the police surgeon, a family doctor who lived near Edlehurst, to the body.
    â€˜Hell!’ the doctor exclaimed as he gained a clear view of the dead woman.
    â€˜It’s way beyond the worst I’ve seen before.’ Glover was newly promoted; although lacking neither ability nor self-confidence, he would have preferred to have gained more experience in commanding the divisional CID before having to deal with a murder of this nature.
    The doctor put his case down on a patch of dry ground under an oak tree, brought out white paper overclothing, similar to that which the SOCOs wore, and put them on, together with a pair of surgical gloves.
    He walked up to the body, visually studied it, physically examined it. One SOCO recorded his moves on a camcorder; a professional photographer worked to instructions. The doctor spoke into a hand-held tape recorder. His judgement: the wounds had probably been inflicted with a double-edged knife; none of the wounds could have been self-inflicted (a fact that was obvious, but had to be recorded); she had suffered heavy battering to the right side of her body; her face was heavily bruised; three fingers on her right hand had been fractured. He recorded the temperature of the body with a forensic thermometer.
    He briefly remained standing as he gazed down at the dead woman. The post-mortem should decide whether she had suffered the violence during sexual assault, but his judgement was that the nature of the wounds indicated torture rather than frenzy.
    The doctor returned to where Glover was talking to a SOCO. Glover cut short the conversation he had been having, turned. ‘What can you tell us, doc?’
    â€˜Very little. She suffered heavy bruising and violence to one hand, a knife inflicted the wounds. I’d name it torture rather than straight assault.’
    Glover swore. He still found it difficult to appreciate one human could willingly inflict agonizing pain on another.
    â€˜Rigor is spreading, but not yet complete, body temperature is fifty-seven. To answer the question you haven’t yet asked, death was between seven and ten hours ago – figures as open to error as ever.’
    Detective Chief Superintendent Abbotts arrived at Sudely Woods, having driven down from county HQ. He was known among the lower ranks as ‘What-if’. Opinions of his subordinates were often met by the question: ‘But what if ...?’
    He and Glover watched the pathologist examining the body. ‘There’s nothing to identify her?’ Abbotts asked.
    â€˜No, sir. With no clothing and nothing found to help name her, our hope has to be fingerprints.’
    â€˜You assume she has a record?’
    â€˜Since it seems sex may be ruled out, it’s difficult to believe an innocent could suffer such barbaric cruelty.’
    â€˜The drug trade?’
    â€˜Seems the most likely.’
    Eileen had made little attempt