The Chemistry of Death (40 page)

The fears of brain and organ damage, of blindness, that I'd known were a possibility and that her doctors thought likely, never materialized. But while her body had begun to mend itself, for a time I'd worried about what deeper, less physical trauma might remain. Gradually, though, I realized there was no need. Jenny had retreated to Manham because she'd been afraid. Now the fear was gone. She'd been face to face with her nightmare and survived it. And, in a different way, so had I.

One way or another, we'd both been brought back to life.

The crow flapped out of the tree as I reluctantly put away my phone. The clatter of its wings was loud in the crystalline silence. I watched it fly across the frozen Scottish moorland. But as bleak as it was, even now there were green shoots starting to push through the frozen earth, forerunners of the spring to come.

I turned as a young policewoman approached, feet crunching on the frost. Above the dark coat, her face was white and shocked.

'Dr Hunter? Sorry to keep you waiting. It's over here.'

I followed her to the waiting group of officers, shook hands as introductions were made. They moved aside to let me approach the reason for the gathering.

The body was lying in a hollow. I felt the familiar detachment start to take over as I took in its position, the texture of skin and blown wisps of hair.

I stepped closer and set to work.

The idea for
The Chemistry of Death
stemmed from an article I wrote for the
Daily Telegraph
Magazine in 2002. It was on the National Forensic Academy in Tennessee, which provides intensive and exceptionally realistic forensic training to US police officers and crime scene investigators. Part of the course takes place at the unique outdoor facility known colloquially as the Body Farm. Founded by forensic anthropologist Dr Bill Bass, it's the only one of its kind in the world, using real human cadavers to research the process of decomposition and ways of determining time since death -- both vital tools in murder investigations.

My visit there proved a sobering yet fascinating experience, without which Dr David Hunter might never have existed. Thanks are therefore due to the National Forensic Academy and the University of Tennessee's Anthropology Research Facility for their co-operation in allowing me to write the original article.

A number of people provided invaluable help with research for this novel. Dr Arpad Vass of the Oak Ridge National Laboratory, Tennessee, fielded endless questions on the intricacies of forensic anthropology and made time in a busy schedule to read the manuscript. In the UK, Professor Sue Black of the University of Dundee was similarly helpful, and never too busy to return a phone call. The press office of Norfolk Constabulary, the Broads Authority and Norfolk Wildlife Trust Hickling Broad also deserve thanks for answering what must have seemed like suspiciously odd questions. Needless to say, any inaccuracies or technical errors are mine rather than theirs.

Thanks also to my wife Hilary, Ben Steiner and SCF for their input and comments, my agents, Mic Cheetham and Simon Kavanagh, not just for their hard work but for keeping the faith, to Paul Marsh, Camilla Ferrier and all at the Marsh Agency for a sterling job, and my editor Simon Taylor and the team at Transworld for their enthusiasm.

Finally, I would like to thank my parents, Sheila and Frank, for their unfailing support. Hope it's been worth it.

Simon Beckett

Simon Beckett is a freelance journalist and writes for national newspapers and colour supplements. He lives in Sheffield.