The rain had begun when Watters began to climb Auchterhouse Hill and grew steadily heavier as he followed the eager young corporal.
“Over here, Sergeant!”
The corpse lay in a small cleuch or gulley, face up and mangled. The man wore a thick linen shirt with baggy cord trousers and heavy boots, all the worse for wear. Watters knelt beside the body, with rain water gathering in the brim of his bowler and dripping onto the saturated ground. “He’s in a bit of a mess,” he said.
“It looks like wild animals have killed him,” Captain Lawes agreed.
“The only wild animals here are foxes, badgers and the occasional deer,” Watters said. “None of those would kill a man.” He examined the body. “Somebody’s stabbed him. See the wound here?”
Captain Lawes bent closer. “I see it.”
“It’s too regular fo
