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Ulman let out a grumble, clearly displeased with this line of reasoning. “That's a very specific conclusion based on just a cursory look,” he muttered.
“Maybe, but it's consistent with what we see here,” Finn replied. He gestured towards the body. “Look at the angle, the depth. It suggests a certain level of knowledge about human anatomy. And the lack of other injuries or signs of struggle... It feels more like a controlled, deliberate act than a random accident. Then, the bodies have more than likely been dumped somewhere and the floods carried them here.”
Amelia stood up, brushing off her hands. “Besides, if this were just an accident, why would two people have such similar wounds? The odds of that are staggering.”
Ulman's expression grew tighter, the lines of his face hardening. “Well, I suppose that's what you're here to find out, isn't it?” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Finn nodded, unfazed by Ulman's tone. “Exactly. And that's what we intend to do. We need to treat this as a potential homicide until we have evidence to prove otherwise. The killer could still be in the vicinity.”
Ulman sighed, resigned. “Very well. Do what you must. But remember, this case is already high-profile due to the victim's connections. We need to tread carefully with our assumptions.”
"Do you want to take that chance and not secure the area?" Finn said.
As Ulman walked away to confer with his team, Finn and Amelia exchanged a look.
"He might be a problem," Finn said quietly.
"He's just marking his territory," Winters whispered.
"That's disgusting," Finn joked. "A grown man, as well."
But the joke dissipated as quickly as it had been born. The weight of death was in the air.
The body of Dolores Mayfield and the unidentified victim, lying silently on the embankment, was now at the center of an investigation that promised to delve deep into the shadows of human motive and malice. And as Finn and Amelia began their work, the serene setting of St Martin Castle belied the dark secrets it was about to reveal.
As Finn and Amelia made their way along the bank, they approached a forensic worker meticulously documenting and bagging a torn piece of clothing. The purple sweater, tattered and muddy, lay in stark contrast to the green of the grass and the gray of the river water.
Finn turned to Ulman, who had quickly followed them. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked, nodding toward the sweater.
Ulman shrugged. "Not really. It could belong to one of the victims, I suppose."
Amelia crouched down for a closer look, her keen detective's eye assessing the garment. "I don't think so," she said thoughtfully. "One victim was wearing a cardigan, and the other, the one we just saw, was dressed in a bright red skirt. This sweater... it wouldn't match the style or the color scheme of the skirt. It's unlikely it belonged to either of them."
Ulman glanced at the sweater with a furrowed brow. "Well, it could just be a random piece of debris then. The floodwaters dragged in all sorts of things."
Finn, however, wasn't convinced. His gaze wandered further down the river to where a mass of broken trees and debris formed a natural dam. "I think we should check further downriver," he said decisively. "If this sweater isn't connected to the victims, it might be linked to someone else. Someone who might've been in the floodwater's way."
Ulman looked skeptical but nodded. "Alright, let's have a look then."
The trio made their way cautiously along the riverbank, navigating the slippery mud and waterlogged grass towards the boat. As they approached the boat and climbed in, Finn's sense of unease grew. The chaotic jumble of wood and debris downstream seemed almost like a barrier, hiding something beyond their immediate sight.
CHAPTER FIVE
As their boat sliced through the murky waters of the swollen river, Finn gazed at the landscape unfolding around them. The flood's aftermath was a picture of desolation, with uprooted trees and debris scattered along the riverbanks. The stark reality of nature's unforgiving power weighed heavily on his mind. They would have to contend with that while looking for clues.
"How many people do you think could have been swept away in a flood like this, never to be found?" Finn mused aloud, his voice tinged with a grim curiosity.
Ulman, steering the boat with a practiced hand, glanced back over his shoulder. "If they're taken out to sea, it complicates things significantly. Currents can carry bodies far from where they originally went missing."
Mulberry, seated beside Amelia, chimed in with a reflective tone. "I remember someone from my school who got swept away in a storm. They found him months later, underground in one of the caves along the coast."
Finn's interest piqued at the mention of caves. "Caves? Are there many around here?"
Amelia nodded, her eyes scanning the river's edge. "Cornwall is famous for its caves. In fact, they were often used by smugglers in the past, a perfect hideout for stashing their loot."
"That's right," Ulman said, sounding surprised.
Finn leaned forward, his detective's intuition sensing an avenue worth exploring. "Smugglers' caves, huh? I used to dream of adventures like that when I was a kid. Pirates, sword fighting, and cursed gold."
