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‘You’re right, we need this cut down,’ said Erika reluctantly They ca they tennis ball in itsits paw on the ball

Erika picked it up and threw it for the dog and it bounded away across the rass Just as it loped back with the ball, a woh the trees She was dressed in an eccentric array of clothes; a saggy old green tracksuit, a Chelsea FC bobble hat, a Manchester united scarf, a pair of purple trainers, where one of the soles was detached and flapping She had a carrier bag bursting hat looked like walnuts and her hands were stained black frorey hair, and her face was deeply lined

‘Serge, heel,’ she snapped She spoke with a refined yet phleg ran to her side and she peered at Erika and Peterson

‘Hello, I’ out her ID, ‘This is DI Peterson’

‘It’s perfectly legal to glean walnuts,’ she started ‘What the bloody hell does it need two of you out here?’

‘We’re not…’ started Erika

‘Bloody police were called when soerows, you heard about that? I s to God, and he puts it all on earth for us to eat’

‘We’re not here about Walnuts or anything that youWalnuts, I’ve picked Look!’ she said opening the carrier bag It was full of walnuts, so the death of Jessica Collins, youabout it on the television,’ said Erika

‘Haven’t got a television,’ said the woman ‘But I listen to Radio Four I heard the news Nasty business You found her over yonder,’ she added tipping her head toward the quarry

‘Yes Have you lived around this area for long?’

‘I’ve lived here ratulations,’ said Peterson, but all this got in return was a scowl

‘What can you tell us about the cottage there, in the undergrowth?’ asked Erika The wo her face even e for the air base they had here, all quite hush hush I think someone stayed on after the war, but then it was e tih to claihts, the poor bastard’

‘Do you knohere he is now?’ asked Erika, phishing for more information

‘A few years back They found hie

‘Do you knohat his naal nas’

‘And what’s your naive you my name? You don’t needthey were going round in circles

‘There are few, if any witnesses to the death of Jessica Collins She was only seven when she was duhted down in plastic, and left in the silt for twenty-six years We don’t know if she was still alive when she was thrown in…’