BLOOD RUNS COLD by HUGHES P.F

Author:HUGHES, P.F.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Punch Publishing
Published: 2024-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

They gathered in the boardroom. Dr Stephen Moreland, a veterinary pathologist from one of the local big surgeries, sat beside Dr Janine Graham, one of the forensic pathologists with GMP, at the head of the table. DCI Clayton had taken up a chair on the right. DS Kelly McCulloch sat beside him while Logan and DI Murray took the opposite side. There was a folder between the two pathologists that looked pretty ominous.

Murray had sent Hussein and Bennett off to see if they could shed any light on the location in the photograph near St Michael's church, with both complaining about having to trudge through the snow. But they’d cheered a little after Logan managed to persuade Murray that he needed to sign off the use of two Land Rovers for the week.

Chris from IT had taken Logan's laptop, saying they should be able to trace a location based on the IP address and this would be dependent on the user’s VPN—Virtual Private Network—settings. He promised to return the laptop as soon as they'd finished. Logan told him not to bother.

'Right, then,' DCI Clayton said, 'we'd better get this meeting started.'

He made the introductions and kept them brief. Everyone knew each other except for Dr Moreland, who made a short introduction himself. He was a specialist in veterinary pathology but had spent the last three years running his own surgery practice in Bury. He rarely did any work for the police, though had done in the past, and he usually wasn't required for such gruesome investigations. This case was a rare one indeed, he said, but something he'd been keen to get his teeth into. Logan had him down as early fifties, well-educated and respected, and with money to burn.

Dr Janine Graham, on the other hand, gave a different vibe. She was younger, mid-forties, very pretty and curvaceous and, if the rumours in the station were true, fronted a goth rock band at weekends. Beneath the standard office attire and neat, pinned brown hair, was a pale white body oozing sex and tattoos. Logan had to admit that he quite fancied her, and he guessed he wouldn't be the only one around HQ. But it was well known she was married to the guitarist in her band, a six-foot-three clone of Eddie Van Halen. Even if Logan was single, he'd have stood no chance.

Dr Graham kicked off proceedings as Murray poured coffee for everyone from a glass decanter on the table.

'So,' she said, her local accent loud and colourful as she removed the paperwork from the folder, 'we have a toxicology report and a breakdown of some of the procedures we went through upon our examinations of the animals involved. I'm sorry it's taken a while. Longer than I would've liked, to be honest with you, but there were a few factors involved. We had to send tissue and bloods down to London for testing and of course wait for the results. But you'll be pleased to know we now have them.

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