Behind her, she was aware of one officer grumbling to another.

‘What’s he doing here; this isn’t his turf, is it?’

‘No, but he wanted to take a look. He’s handling that dead-end case over at Queen’s Park. Cheeky sod; I’d like to know how he got here so fucking fast. Plus he’s got those two goons with him. Don’t know who he thinks he is. DCI Hedges is going apeshit.’

When Anna stepped into the tent, she remembered what she’d been told: no training ever prepares you. They can show you mortuary shots, you can discuss post mortems (she’d even been present at one), but not until you confront your first real corpse does the impact hit you. They always say it’s the first one that stays with you for the rest of your career.

‘You think it’s her?’ she heard Lewis whisper.

‘Maybe,’ Langton said. ‘Right age, right colouring.’

‘She’s been here for a while.’ Barolli was sniffing with disgust. ‘In pretty good shape, though. No decomposition. It’s the bad weather. She’s been covered in snow, but yesterday was a freak day, almost seventy degrees.’

While Langton chatted with his two detectives, Anna edged across the duckboards to move closer.

‘We think she’s maybe a student, reported missing six weeks ago,’ Langton broke off mid-conversation to explain to Anna, ‘but we won’t know for sure until they’ve done the post mortem.’ He turned back to address his detectives. Langton became a blur; she could see his lips moving, hear him faintly, but as those in front parted ranks to give her a clear view of the corpse, Anna wanted to vomit. Now she was close up, the stench was thick and heavy, worsened by the confines of the tent.

The victim lay on her back, her long, blonde hair splayed around her head. Her face was swollen, her eyes sunken and crawling with maggots, which explored her nostrils and fed in her mouth, squirming and wriggling: a sickening, seething mass.