In the Absence of Iles by Bill James Page A

the Out-location programme, or, in fact, that the programme existed. I received the call as deputy head of CID. All major incidents of this kind are routinely reported to me in the first instance. If they are serious enough I would then, of course, inform the head of CID, Mr Tesler, and the Assistant Chief Constable, Operations, Mrs Davidson.’
    ‘And will you tell the court what you found on the beach?’
    Dean’s mother never came to the trial, or not when Esther was present. Perhaps Mrs Martlew didn’t want to be told in public how her son had willingly let himself in for blatant peril, and so for disfigurement and death. Esther knew Dean’s family circumstances well: father, mother, a married sister, a younger brother. No wife. No partner. Esther felt glad Mrs Martlew was not here today. She might read the proceedings in the Press, but that would lack at least a little of the terrible immediacy and thoroughness in Channing’s words.
    He said: ‘I saw the body of a man on the pebbles just below high water mark, fully dressed in a dark double-breasted suit, collar and tie, black shoes.’
    ‘Did you know at once that he was Dean Martlew?’
    ‘Almost at once. The formal clothes gave an indication. Members of some organizations tend to dress in that style and I knew he had adopted it as part of his role.’
    ‘And, of course, you would recognize him as one of your departmental men and from the selection procedures and subsequent contact?’
    ‘Yes, but there were initial difficulties.’ Channing hesitated, then continued slowly. ‘He had been shot in the head from the front, twice. And he had a number of wounds to his face and neck, seemingly made by a knife or knives. His appearance had been altered to a degree by these injuries and by possible buffeting in the sea and against rocks along the shore.’
    Esther thought that to be as considerately put as it could be. Channing spoke with a kind of fatalistic plod, as if he had always expected something like this must end any Out-loc project, and now, here on the beach below Pastel Head, it had happened. She would agree with Channing’s description. Of course, he had called her as soon as he knew this to be Dean Martlew on the beach and she followed him out there. No, Dean was not easy to recognize that morning. Both the fishermen who found him needed counselling for weeks afterwards. As Esther recalled, in life he had been strong-featured and alert-looking, very nearly handsome. In fact, at selection time, she had found it hard to accept that someone so presentable was not into a relationship. Recalling the Fieldfare recommendation, she’d hoped to recruit someone free of involvement. Although she never made it an absolute condition, she had let Channing know she would much prefer this if possible.
    Channing had carried out his scour of the domain looking for suitable people and, as he slowly built a shortlist, put the full, personal records of each in front of Esther. She had read them over so often and with such concentration before making her choice that she could have recited the background facts of each of the five even now. Fieldfare hadn’t given definite advice to exclude married or partnered officers from undercover duties, though there’d been those big hints. Esther considered this a bad lapse. She had wanted orders, not pointers; rules, not mere guidance. But she did see this might be unfeasible. Out-loc security demanded that the officer should not be already well known through detective work, and this probably meant he or she would be young. The majority of young officers did tend to be hormonal and have sexual links. To exclude everyone married or shacked-up was impractical.
    Naturally, the argument would apply even more to older detectives – that is, supposing one not familiar to the villain firms could be found. Although there might be some still single, or widowed or divorced, the bulk would be cohabiting and have children. Because of such