Page 40 of The Devil's Advocate

Within ten seconds a guy opened the door of his cab, looked out, asked if everything was okay. Bloch nodded. He went back inside, just as another guy got out to make the same check.

‘There could have been music blasting from the bar, but I’d say it would be low volume out here,’ I said.

Bloch nodded.

‘The injuries to her face indicate that at one stage the attacker only had hold of her with one hand. She had bruising on her arms, two broken fingers. This is the last place she was seen, and she was buried here,’ said Harry.

Bloch nodded.

‘We know that, but there’s a lot we don’t know. I think someone might have heard her cry out. Unless she was taken somewhere else, and then her body brought back here,’ said Bloch.

‘What about her other injuries?’ I said. ‘We know cause of death was strangulation, but there were ligature marks on her hands and wrists, and she had sunburn over the front of her body. Then she was buried headfirst in a narrow grave. She disappeared the night of the fourteenth of May, going into the fifteenth. Ted Buxton found her the night of the fifteenth. What happened in those twenty-four hours? Was she grabbed in the lot, taken into the brush and murdered? Or was she held somewhere else, maybe outside? And then killed and brought back here to be buried? I don’t get it.’

‘You’re forgetting the marks on her forehead,’ said Harry. ‘A star-shaped mark from a ring.’

‘That was deliberate,’ said Bloch.

‘What was deliberate?’ I asked.

‘The bruising on her arms, the broken fingers, all during a struggle, I’d say. He didn’t leave marks from the ring anywhere else on her body apart from her head. I think those marks were deliberate,’ she said.

We started forward, over the old fence, through the tall grass to an area where the grass had been dug over to retrieve her body. It was about twelve feet across, by ten feet wide. The soil was black and sticky, like clay, but much wetter. Even the boiling sun above us couldn’t cut through this humidity. We were all coated in sweat.

‘The method of burial is unusual. You could get a shallow grave out of this soil relatively quickly. Why dig down so deep? You’d need to use a hoe, or a pick. It would take way longer,’ I said.

‘Her feet,’ said Bloch.

‘What?’

‘He wanted her feet exposed.’

‘Why?’

‘I have no idea,’ she said.

Harry took a step back, and I heard a faint splash and the sound of a retired judge swearing, loudly. There was mud from a puddle splashed up the sides of Harry’s pants. But he wasn’t looking at his pants, and he’d stopped swearing now. Instead, Harry was gazing at the puddle.

The water in the puddle swirled, catching the sun. It was like a star caught in the murky water.

‘The soles of her feet weren’t sunburned,’ said Harry.

‘Maybe she was buried after sundown on the fifteenth, maybe only a couple of hours before Ted Buxton found her?’

‘It’s not just that. Something else would’ve been shining on her feet,’ he said.

He had a strange look on his face. I’d known Harry Ford for a long time. We’ve been through a lot together. I’d never seen him like this. His eyes were wide, and he looked down, then up at the sky, and then they searched the grass and our faces. His lips trembled and he raised his fingers to them.

‘Harry, are you alright? You look … scared,’ I said.

‘The marks on her forehead – the stars. They’re a crown. The sunburn, buried upside down – Jesus, it all fits,’ he said.

‘Fits what?’ I asked.

At first, he didn’t answer, he closed his eyes, and his lips moved silently, like he was searching for something deep in his memory, trying to get it right. When he spoke again, his tone was low, and his voice trembled with every word.

‘And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and a crown of stars upon her head … and there appeared another wonder in heaven: behold a great red dragon, with seven heads, and ten horns, and seven crowns upon its head …’

Bloch and I exchanged a look.