“Um… Home. Yes. God. Yes, I could’ve done that. That would’ve made sense, going home. That would’ve prevented…” She gestured at herself. “…all this going on right now. Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” Ben said. “Maybe just give us the highlights, then go get some rest.”
“A fine plan! I agree. Great thinking,” Shona said. She winked, fired finger-guns at the camera, then became visibly self-conscious about doing both, and cleared her throat. “Right, so, your man, then. The victim. I don’t think he was burned.” She shook her head. “I mean, obviously he was burned. But not to death. He was already dead, is what I’m saying. Strangled with some sort of narrow gauge wire. Electrical wire, maybe. Something that cut into his neck.”
“So we’re definitely looking at murder, then?” Ben asked. He’d been expecting that, of course. They all had. But there was always room for hope.
“I’d say so, yes,” Shona confirmed. “No way he could’ve done that to himself. Did Geoff mention anything about any wire at the scene?”
“No,” Ben said.
“There you go, then. Killer must’ve taken it. Unless it burned up. It could’ve burned up. Forget I said anything,” Shona babbled. “Not about him being strangled, about the wire not being there. He was definitely strangled.” She tugged at the neck of her scrubs. “Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?”
“I mean…” Ben glanced back at Tyler and Hamza. “It’s not hot here. Are you sure you’re alright, Shona?”
“I’m grand. Just overdid the energy drinks and underdid the sleep. Be right as rain in the morning.” She frowned, and looked around at the windowless office. “Wait. It’s morning now, isn’t it? Ah, shite.”
Ben glanced up and to his right at Hamza, who appeared to be sharing many of the DI’s current concerns.
“Do you want to maybe just email over the report?” Ben suggested. “And then go and get some rest? I don’t want to keep you on this,”—he gestured at the laptop—“contraption if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Oh no, I’m fine. I’m grand. Nice to have a bit of company,” Shona said. “Your man on the slab there wasn’t much for conversation. Not for want of me trying, mind you.”
She laughed at that until she snorted, then looked mortified and consulted the clipboard of notes that sat on the desk in front of her.
“Anyway, he was strangled. Well, garrotted with the wire. Then, an accelerant was poured over him—turpentine, Geoff thinks—and he was set alight.”
“Turps?” asked Ben. “Like for removing paint? That’s an accelerant, aye, but not the easiest to light.”
“It was mixed with petroleum jelly,” Shona said. “Apparently, that makes it easier. By the time the fire burned out, there wasn’t much left of him, which makes it harder to pin down when this happened, of course. A lot of what we’d usually rely on has, you know, melted.”
“Can you take an educated guess?” Ben asked.
“Well, going by insect infestation of the remains… the number of animal bites… general decomposition, I’d say we’re looking at two to three weeks. Can’t really be much more definite than that, I’m afraid. In fact, I can’t give you much more than that in general. Stomach contents were all gone.”
“Burned up?” asked Tyler.
“Partly. And partly eaten by a scavenging animal of some kind,” Shona replied. “Possibly a pine marten.”
Tyler grimaced. “Jesus. Sorry I asked.”
“I’m going to send him off for imaging to see if there’s anything I’ve missed. Carbonisation like his makes dissection difficult, so there’s always a chance the tomography will find more,” Shona explained. “What I would say, though, is that he fits the description of the suspected victim. Except, you know, a set-on-fire version of him. Male, about the right height, right age range. Based on what information we have, I’d say it’s more likely him than it isn’t.”
“Right. Well, I suppose that’s something,” Ben said. “Better to know who we’re dealing with, at least, than…”
He fell silent as, on screen, Shona flapped her hands like she was trying to take off, her face suddenly alive with excitement.
“Oh! Sorry for interrupting! I just remembered something,” she said.