White finished his tea as paper-suited technicians bustled about the house bagging potential evidence and sorting carefully through the piles of accumulated junk in case there were other bodies to be found. “We didn't even look upstairs.” He suppressed a smile as a technician's face fell. “There could be another body up there. One of the neighbours mentioned a daughter.” He declined to mention the bit about Erica Cotman moving away. It would give the lad a bit of incentive to check every possible place.
Eric came out, stripping off his gloves. “Natural causes would be my snap diagnosis but I can't confirm it until I get the body rehydrated.”
“Rehydrated?” White shook his head. “I don't even want to know.”
Eric laughed. “It'll be a new one on me. Wish I had the budget to get in a specialist.”
“I'll not be offering to supplement it from mine.” White beckoned a constable and handed him his empty tea mug. “We have to justify every penny as it is.”
“Criminal, these cuts.” The coroner shook his head sadly. “It's the same with us. They'd have us recycle the evidence bags if they could.”
“Nothing in the sheds, sir, though I'd be willing to bed the tools in there haven't seen the light of day in decades.” Sergeant Peters pulled on a mug of tea, grimaced and poured it carefully into a drain. “There's a greenhouse back there as well. I've left those two gormless berks cutting a route to it through the brambles.”