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Poe knew he should. It wasn’t that long ago he’d managed the unit that commissioned them. He shook his head.

‘We have to book time with the hospital. And, by law they can’t bump a living patient for a dead one. The consultant, radiographer and any number of other medical staff are all paid overtime. At night.’

Poe wasn’t concerned about the cost. He’d fund it himself if he had to.

‘It costs about twenty grand . . .’ she said.

Maybe not . . .

‘And I’m not blowing our entire diagnostic budget on a whim.’

‘It’s hardly a whim,’ Poe muttered. ‘It has to be connected.’ To be fair to Flynn, even he thought he sounded desperate.

‘Aren’t you the one who used to bang on about knowing the difference between facts, opinions and guesses,’ she snapped. ‘This is a guess, Poe, nothing more. And I can’t waste money on guesses.’

He felt like saying, ‘Never quote me to me,’ but held his tongue. He knew part of the DI’s job was curbing the enthusiasm of some staff, but the age Tollund Man would be now was too much for him to dismiss.

‘We’re supposed to do what’s right, not what’s easy,’ he said.

‘What did you just say?’ she snarled.

Poe knew there were times when backing down was the right move. He also knew that sometimes shutting up was even better.

They were still glowering at each other when Reid returned. He picked up on the atmosphere immediately. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing!’ Flynn barked.

‘Just a small disagreement,’ Poe said.

Reid was shameless in the way he couldn’t be embarrassed. He retrieved the file from his rucksack and put it on the table. ‘I’ve not had time to read it.’

Flynn made no move to take it.

Poe picked it up and read the summary. There were photographs of the body in situ; he’d study them later. The last few pages were chronological entries of the actions taken. The superintendent from Kendal had signed off the case. The final entry was dated less than a month ago.

‘Bollocks.’

Flynn, despite herself, asked, ‘What is it?’

Poe ignored her and directed a question at Reid. ‘I thought Cumbria’s protocol was for unidentified bodies to be kept for a year before being disposed of?’

‘It was. It’s just been changed. They’re kept for eighteen months if they’re to be cremated, nine months if they’re going in the ground.’

Poe looked at Flynn.

‘No fucking way!’ she exploded.

‘It’s the only way we can be sure,’ Poe countered.

‘Sure of what, you idiot? Even if I felt like throwing away my career, the coroner declared it death by natural causes and it’s their fucking office that authorises exhumations! What? You think we can waltz in there and tell them they were wrong because Tollund Man would have been an old man now? They deal with facts, Poe, not lunatic conspiracy theories.’

‘We need one,’ Poe persisted.

‘We don’t fucking need one!’ she barked. ‘And we’re not asking for one, so put that idea out of your mind right now. I will not embarrass the agency by applying for an exhumation order we almost certainly won’t get and don’t need. And that’s final.’

Poe expressed his frustration with silence. She was right; unless DCS Gamble was prepared to link the two cases and apply for it himself – and there was nothing in the way he ran investigations that suggested he’d even entertain the idea – they’d never get permission. Forensic exhumation orders were rarely applied for – the police and the pathologist were expected to do their jobs properly the first time around.

Yet he knew there had to be a link. His name hadn’t appeared on the chest of Michael James by accident. Someone was drip-feeding him information and he wasn’t prepared to give up on the latest offering just yet. He’d concede for now, but when they ran into a dead end he’d have another go. Eventually she’d see reason.