Prologue
It was a chilly December night.
A thin layer of frost glistened on the wet streets as the rain teemed down, beating a tattoo on the wet pavements. There weren't many people around, even for a late Friday evening. It was like would-be revellers had opted for the warmer option of staying in rather than trawling the pubs and clubs of Ashbeck.
In the dingy alleyways of the less salubrious parts of town the homeless gathered around fires, downing whatever spirits they had managed to buy with the results of their meagre begging. In most cases though, the meagre profits of begging catered more towards cheap white cider in plastic bottles then anything like whisky. Huddled in among crates and discarded cardboard containers, mostly dragged from skips, they shivered beneath threadbare blankets and pulled well worn coats around their emaciated forms. Many were junkies, seeking their next fix for which they had pawned what few valuables they had left. They were a motley crew of the dispossessed, the untouchables upon whom society had turned its back.
Two uniformed police constables pounded the beat, their heavy shoes making no sound above the rain.
"I doubt we'll find much to do tonight." The younger of the two said. His older companion nodded.
"At any rate we won't get the usual kicking out time trouble,"
"Well, I suppose that's something to be glad about."
"I don't envy those without a home to go to tonight, that's for sure. All the shelters are full."
They walked on through the rougher part of town and the bright lights of the main shopping street seemed a haze of colour through the rain. It was five days to Christmas and the fairy lights on the large municipal tree in the market square glowed, reflected through the water in the civic fountain. Tonight was not a night for Christmas shopping or revelry.
Outside the impressive glass-fronted office building belonging to the Ashbeck city council a shadowy figure was huddled in a doorway. He looked completely out of place. The empty glass bottle lay in shards around him. He reeked of body odour, stale vomit and urine.
PC David Delaney and PC Thomas Fox, nephew to the district coroner, Dr Barry Fox, came within sight of the building.
"There's someone there, David." Fox said, as they drew nearer.
"This isn't the usual hangout for vagrants." Delaney replied, "We'd best check him out, he could be a drunk and disorderly."
They drew nearer; there was plenty of artificial light for them to see by.
"Probably a council evictee," Fox said, "the heartless bastards from the housing department delight in chucking people on the street this time of year. Perhaps he's staging a sleep out?"
Delaney wrinkled his nose as they drew to the bottom of the steps.
"He clearly isn't acquainted with soap or deodorant, that's for sure."
"Good evening, Sir," Fox said as he approached the man. The huddled figure was in no position to respond, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move along."
No response.
"Perhaps he's got blind drunk and is sleeping it off?" Delaney suggested.
"Well, a lot of them do so they can enjoy our hospitality in a cell overnight," Fox suggested, "My uncle gets loads of cases like this every year, drunks die of exposure because folk leave them to sleep it off, old people die because they won't spend money on heating..." he broke off, "Be careful David, there's broken glass here,"
Fox put his hand on the man's shoulder.
"Sir, I'm sorry but you really can't sleep here."
The figure rolled over and they saw his waxy complexion, the lips blue with cyanosis and the jagged cut across his throat. He was in a pool of blood and they could smell the unsavoury stench of death, combined with the reek of alcohol.
PC Delaney was on his radio.
"This is Alpha Zulu three five, we've got a body outside the council offices. Can you get DI Lyle or DI Ward down here as soon as?"
"Alpha Zulu three five, this is control. Request understood. Please do not leave the scene, repeat do not leave the scene. Over and out."
"Now we have to wait," Delaney said.
