‘The bag was found with the body by the snowplough crew,’ said Hitchens. ‘It’s a common make, though not cheap. One of the first jobs will be to trace shops in the area that sell this type of luggage. Unfortunately, there are no labels on it, and no contents to help us identify the owner.’
‘The bag was completely empty?’ asked Cooper.
‘There was so much empty space inside this bag, you’d think it was a Derbyshire CID room,’ said Hitchens. ‘Except it smelled better.’
Cooper saw DCI Kessen’s eyes open a little bit wider. He stared at Hitchens, then turned to Tailby, who ignored him. For the first time that morning, a small smile had crept on to Tailby’s face.
‘Somebody went to great lengths to remove evidence of his identity, then,’ said Cooper.
‘Yes and no,’ said Hitchens. ‘They removed the clothes from the bag, but left him with what he was wearing. They took his wallet and maybe his mobile phone, if he had one, but left the contents of his pockets. In fact, why did they leave the bag itself? If the perpetrators handled it, they were taking a risk. Why not dispose of it with the clothes? It doesn’t really make sense.’
‘What about missing persons?’ suggested DCI Kessen.
‘I’m sure that’s under control, too,’ said Tailby.
‘Of course. Who’s dealing with it, I wonder?’
Gavin Murfin tentatively raised a hand. His mouth was full of chocolate, and he began to chew a little bit faster as both chief inspectors turned their attention on him.
‘This is Detective Constable Murfin,’ said Tailby.
‘Good afternoon, Murfin,’ said Kessen. ‘DC i/c mispers, eh?’
Murfin’s mouth opened. But all that came out was the sound of masticated food and a faint choking at the back of his throat.
‘Anything worthwhile, Murfin?’ said Tailby.
‘No, sir. There’s a list on file, but nothing that jumps out at you, like.’
‘National forces?’
‘They’ve all been circulated,’ said Murfin. ‘There’s some we haven’t had a response from yet.’
‘Keep on to it, Murfin.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Murfin seemed to realize that his hand was still in the air. He lowered it, looking round at his colleagues in embarrassment.
‘And who’s the lady?’ said DCI Kessen suddenly. Everyone looked round at the door, wondering who had walked into the room. But there was no one there. Cooper kept his eyes straight ahead and saw DCI Tailby’s jaw tense. There was only one woman in the room this afternoon, and she was no lady – she was Diane Fry. Eventually, a few officers managed to follow Kessen’s gaze and realized who he was looking at. He was smiling, and he had raised one eyebrow at a jaunty angle, a mannerism he must have practised while watching Sean Connery videos.
It was Fry herself who answered him. She got out of her chair and stood up to speak. Nobody else ever bothered doing that during a meeting.
‘Detective Sergeant Diane Fry, sir.’
‘Good afternoon, Diane. And what are you working on?’
‘DS Fry is one of my best officers,’ said Tailby, his expression tightening ominously.
‘I’m sure she is. She looks it. But I rather think she’s one of my officers now, Stewart.’
‘We’ve circulated a description of the man to all the media and have appealed for information,’ said Fry coolly. ‘We’ve also had officers out at checkpoints on the A57, stopping motorists in the vicinity who might have seen something. We are also seeking sightings of a four-wheel drive vehicle in the area around the time that the body was dumped. And, naturally, we’re following up leads from the man’s physical appearance, his clothing and his possessions. His clothing seems to offer us the best chance at the moment.’
DCI Kessen nodded and smiled approvingly.
‘We also have a small tattoo on the left forearm of the body,’ said Fry. ‘A dagger and a snake. It’s a common motif, but it might help identification.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do an excellent job, Detective Sergeant Fry,’ said Kessen. ‘An excellent job.’
‘Shall we move on?’ said Tailby. ‘There’s a lot to do today.’
Fry turned round so that she could see Cooper and Murfin. They were careful not to smile.
‘Explain the timing for us again,’ said Tailby.
Fry set out the time line – the narrow window in which the killer or killers had the opportunity to dump the body on the Snake Pass without being seen.
‘So we’re looking for a four-wheel drive vehicle, almost certainly,’ she said.
‘There are lots of those around.’
‘Eddie Kemp has one, for a start,’ said Murfin.
‘Who?’ said Tailby.
‘The bloke that we had in on suspicion for the double assault.’
‘Really?’
‘Do we have a suspect in custody?’ asked Kessen. ‘I didn’t know this. Whose arrest was it?’
‘Mine,’ said Cooper. ‘But it was a completely different incident.’
‘Are we sure of that?’
‘It happened the same night,’ said Murfin.
Cooper hesitated. ‘There’s no obvious link. Except for the timing.’
‘He has an Isuzu Trooper. I’ve seen it parked outside when he’s been doing the windows.’
‘Doing what?’
‘He’s a window cleaner,’ said Murfin. ‘But anyway, he isn’t in custody any more – he’s been sent home. He’s had his twenty-four hours.’
Tailby pulled a face. Too often it had been known for the police to have a suspect in their custody, only to release him before the crucial evidence turned up to justify a charge. ‘We’d better be absolutely sure there’s no link,’ he said. ‘Someone check that out.’
Cooper realized he was the one the DCI was looking at. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said.
DI Hitchens interrupted. ‘We’re currently tracking down some CCTV footage. In view of the location of the assault, we’re hoping either the suspects or the victims might have been caught by one of the town centre cameras.’
‘That’s good,’ said Tailby. ‘Now let’s have some attention on identifying the Snowman. It’s going to be a long haul. Without an ID, we’re in difficulties. We need to get assistance from the public, of course. But since he’s probably not from this area, that’s going to take some time. That means there are plenty of jobs to do. Mr Kessen thinks everything is under control, so let’s not disappoint him.’
Diane Fry looked distracted. Ben Cooper leaned over towards her as the meeting broke up.
‘Whoever killed the Snowman, it sounds as though we’re looking for amateurs anyway,’ he said. ‘They weren’t thinking things through properly. There’s no logic to what they did. No system, no planning. That’s good, isn’t it? It means they’ll be worrying now about what traces they left behind.’
Fry shrugged. ‘That’s not quite true. The timing of it looks planned. Somebody thought that through,