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started to plan what I had to do, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle. I quickly turned round, expecting to find that Duncan or Fraser had returned.
    But, except for the shadows, the room was empty.

CHAPTER 4
    I SAT IN the front of the Range Rover as Fraser drove back to the village, drowsy in the stifling heat from the vents and the rhythmic tick of the windscreen wipers. The headlights fastened hypnotically on the road ahead, but beyond their cone of brightness the outside world was reduced to darkness and rain-streaked glass.
    I’d done as much as I could for that night. After Brody took Duncan back to town to collect the camper van, I’d used Fraser’s radio to brief Wallace while the sergeant taped off the cottage. The superintendent had sounded even more harried than he had that morning as I outlined what I knew so far.
    ‘So Brody wasn’t exaggerating,’ Wallace said, sounding surprised. The connection buzzed, threatening to break up.
    ‘No.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Look, you’re not going to like this, but you might want to think about getting SOC out here.’
    ‘You’re saying you think it’s murder?’ he asked, sharply.
    ‘No, just that I can’t say for certain it isn’t. There’s no way of knowing what might be hidden under the ashes, and I don’t want to risk contaminating a crime scene.’
    ‘But you’ve seen nothing so far to suggest that’s what it is?’ he pressed. ‘In fact, from what you’ve said, everything still points to the opposite.’
    Except my instincts, and I knew better than to offer them as a reason. ‘That’s right, but—’
    ‘So sending SOC would be purely a precaution at this stage.’
    I could already see what was coming. ‘If you want to put it like that, yes.’
    He heard the annoyance in my tone and sighed. ‘Under normal circumstances I’d have a team out there with you first thing tomorrow. But right now this train crash takes priority. There are still people trapped, and the weather’s hampering rescue efforts. And it looks as though the van that was left on the line was stolen and left there deliberately. So as well as everything else, I’ve got to consider the possibility that this was a terrorist attack. At the moment I can’t take SOCOs off that for something that in all likelihood’s going to be an accidental death.’
    ‘And if it isn’t?’
    ‘Then I’ll get a team out to you straight away.’
    There was a pause. I could understand his reasoning, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.
    ‘All right. But if I find anything I don’t like then I’m backing off until SOC arrive,’ I said at last. ‘And one more thing. While I’m here I’d like to try to work on getting a tentative ID. Can you send me details from the missing persons database of any young women who fit the dead woman’s basic profile? Race, size, age, that sort of thing.’
    Wallace said he’d have the missing persons files emailed to me, then ended the call without ceremony. As I hung up I told myself I’d done what I could. And he was probably right. Perhaps I was just being over-cautious.
    There wasn’t much more I could do that night. The battery-powered floodlight Fraser had brought was a poor substitute for the generator-fed lamps that would normally illuminate this sort of scene, so I’d decided to wait for daylight to carry out any sort of real assessment. Putting my doubts to one side, I took my digital camera from the flight case and began photographing the remains.
    There was something oppressive about the derelict cottage, with its sagging ceilings and crumbling walls. As I worked I tried to ignore the irrational unease I felt. It had nothing to do with the pitiful mound of bones and ash in the centre of the room. The dead hold no fear for me. I’ve seen death in most of its forms, and I don’t believe in ghosts. If the dead live on, it’s only in our minds and hearts.
    At least, that’s where mine were.
    Yet there was