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path is less slippery there.” The man pointed toward another path that steered east.
    “You said you normally walk your dog here every day. Is there anyone you would expect to see during your walk at this time?”
    “Sometimes I see runners practising for the Boxing Day Run. They run along the main path but it tends to be later in the day.”
    It became evident to Hammond that the man could not help them any further, by now he was shivering, and Hammond was concerned for his health. He requested that William Barnes’ hand over his clothes and shoes when he got home, explaining it was for elimination purposes and asked an officer to escort the man home, promising to check on him later in the day and handed him his card for future reference.
    The suspected crime scene was a hive of activity. With the area now sealed, a thorough search of the area could begin. DS Dunn was stooping within the cramped space of the tent. There were whitened flood lights erected inside on both sides of the shallow grave. From outside, Hammond saw her slim silhouette against the tent sides as she watched the pathologist closely, impatient for information. The pathologist, Dr Ed Henderson was well known to them both, having worked with him numerous times before Hammond knew him as very thorough. Henderson was arrogant and not one to care about making a good impression of himself but he was well respected as being one of the most efficient contributors to the Kent Police. Henderson ignored Dunn but continued looking over the body in silence. It took a few minutes before he stood up, gesturing for Hammond to approach.
    “Male Caucasian, I estimate 50 plus years of age. There were a set of keys but no identification or wallet in his pockets. It looks like repeated blunt force trauma to the upper body, but I need to take x-rays. I will let you know for sure after the autopsy. There are several wounds to the arm, here...” He bent down and pointed with a gloved finger at a bruise on the body’s left arm where a sleeve had ridden up above the wrist. “...there are also wounds to the thigh; I need to turn the body over to get a look at the face. Can I get some more light down here?”
    The pathologist shouted to a crime scene officer who hastily offered Henderson a small black case. With apparent impatience, Henderson made a performance of dragging the case to the side of the hole, and opened the case withdrawing a torch, a coloured lens and a pair of goggles. He motioned for Hammond to do the same, completely ignoring Dunn who leant across the pathologist and helped herself to goggles from the case. The ultra violet glare from the torch was directed on the contents of the shallow grave. “There is blood loss but it is unlikely he bled to death, there is not enough here.”
    Henderson signalled for his assistant to approach closer and pointed to areas that needed photographing.
    Hammond turned to Dunn. “We need to trace where each path leads. If the victim was here when he was attacked, we need to understand why he was off the main path. There is nothing here to see, unless he was trying to take a short cut across the field.”
    Dunn shook her head. “That wouldn’t make sense; the barbed wire would have been too much of an inconvenience when there is another path that goes along the edge of the field anyway. If he was trying to take a short cut, this wouldn’t be the place.”
    Hammond turned to Ed Henderson. “Has the white light picked out any footprints?”
    Henderson looked up at Hammond; he was now standing with one foot wedged against the body in the recess, balancing his weight on the other leg which was positioned on the upper level as he took the body’s temperature.
    “There were a few traces of prints, but no complete shoe prints that we can determine. The rain hasn’t helped, any DNA evidence will have degraded from the earlier frost and subsequent thaw. The leaves have been disturbed since he has been down there. There are