Written In Blood

Chapter Five

"Wouldn't we be better off going back and crossing at the bridge?" she asked. She couldn't believe he already had one boot off, and was working on the lace of the other. "That water looks bloody freezing. I don't fancy going in there, and I'm sure it's not a good idea for Doc Kelly."

"Don't you worry about me on that score, girl," Kelly said. He settled to the ground and began rolling up his trouser legs before removing his shoes and socks. "I've never been bothered by a bit of cold water. It's that far bank I'm concerned about; it looks a little steep for someone of my stature."

Mitchell looked across the river at the far bank and then at the doctor, before finally down at himself. He wasn't as large at the waist as the doctor, but he was still far from slim. Climbing the far bank was likely to be as much of a challenge for him as the doctor, but there was nowhere better.

"It'll be a struggle," he admitted. "But we'll manage. If we go back it'll cost us three quarters of an hour, maybe more, and there's a deadfall on that side, near the bridge, that's been threatening to drop for a year. I'd rather not take a chance on us being under it, if it finally decides to go."

Melissa thought that a bit of a weak argument – if the tree hadn't fallen in a year, it was unlikely to fall while they passed it. She suspected Mitchell had not even thought about crossing the river after parking at the pub, and was reluctant to correct his mistake.

"I'll go first," Mitchell said. "Doc, you come second, Mel, you bring up the rear. Once I've got to the top, I can pull you up, Doc, while Mel gives you a shove from behind."

The river at the chosen spot was only about fifteen feet wide, but it still took the three of them almost five minutes to make it to the top of the far bank. Most of that time was spent climbing the bank on the other side, which Melissa had no difficulty with, but which proved a struggle for her companions struggled.

"Is that Mr Wild?" Melissa asked when they had gone another half a mile or so, and were almost at the bend in the river, around which was supposed to be the village's newest resident, and the body he claimed to have found.

"I can't imagine we're going to find two people this far out from the village so early on a Saturday. Thinking about it, you're not likely to find someone out here on any day of the week, regardless of the time. I wonder what he was doing out here," Mitchell remarked suspiciously before striding ahead, so he could reach the man who had disturbed his Saturday morning lie-in. "Mr Wild, Sergeant Mitchell."

"Hello, sergeant." Zack held out his hand. "I know who you, Doctor." He shook the elderly doctor's hand when the other two had caught up. "My neighbour, Constance Hawkins, pointed you out to me, in case I should have need of your services. I can't say that I've seen you before, constable, and I'm sure I'd remember; I can't remember the last time I saw a uniform worn so flatteringly."

Melissa flushed as she shook his hand, having been taken by surprise by the compliment. "Mel, Melissa," she stammered before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Constable Turner I mean." She couldn't believe how she was reacting to the compliment, and to the way he looked – in shorts and a t-shirt, it was clear that he kept himself in better shape than just about anyone else in the village – and to the touch of his hand against hers. "Nice to meet you."

"If you're quite finished," Mitchell said sharply. "You told Constable Pritchard, when you called the station, that you found a body; what can you tell me about it, the person you found, I mean."

"Female, mid-teens at a guess, but it's hard to say for sure," Zack said as he led the two police officers and the doctor around the bend in the river on his way to where he had made his discovery. "One thing I can tell you for sure, she was murdered, and she's been out here for at least a couple of days, perhaps as long as a week."