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Chapter 7

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‘Single stab wound to the chest. Almost certainly a knife or bladed implement. Curved blade, no serration.’

Professor Ryan Jordan’s accent was still predominantly American, but decades living in England – married to an Englishwoman – had left their mark.

‘What can you tell about the attack?’ Warren had the phone on speaker so he could look at the emailed files Jordan had sent him without getting a crick in his neck.

‘It pierced his left lung, catching a rib on the way in. It didn’t reach the heart, but it nicked an intercostal artery. The knife was pulled out without twisting. He’d have bled out in less than a minute. From the shape of the pool of blood under the body and the lengthy smear, I’d say he expired where he finally collapsed. I see no evidence that his body was moved post-mortem.’

‘What about his killer. Any ideas?’

‘From the angle and position of entry, I would guess someone of a similar height, probably standing face-on.’

‘So his attacker would have been covered in blood?’

‘No question. Even if he jumped back, I’d say he’d have got a good spattering.’

Warren really hoped Andy Harrison and his team found the killer’s clothing, only a tiny speck of blood would be needed to tie it to the scene.

‘Anything else you can tell me about the weapon?’

‘Not a lot, but I’ve photographed the marks on the rib, so I should be able to match any suspect blade.’

‘What else have you found? Any defensive wounds?’

‘Inconclusive. He had a number of pre-mortem injuries. A cut on his scalp was clearly inflicted sometime earlier, it had already started to bruise. His knuckles also had contusions consistent with fighting, but again they were probably picked up a few minutes before he was killed. Unless there was a pause of several minutes between him meeting his attacker and the final wound, I’d say the injuries occurred during the ruckus in the square. I’ve scraped under his fingernails just in case.’

Warren thanked him and hung up. The first twenty-four hours of any investigation were crucial. The clock started ticking the moment a crime was committed, as evidence disappeared, memories began to fade and killers continued to cover their tracks. It had been a promising start and a couple more hours remained. He just hoped they could maintain this momentum over the coming hours and days.

The Common Enemy

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