The man who greeted Beth and Unthank at the Lakeland Bird of Prey Centre looked every inch the expert they needed. From the olive green corduroys to the Barbour shirt and the tweed waistcoat he wore, the man exuded the air of one who was most at home out on the fells and the high moors. The only thing that looked odd about him was the combover flapping in the breeze.

The centre was just five miles south of Penrith and to Beth’s mind it was the ideal place to start looking into the wings attached to the bodies.

‘I’m DC Young, this is DC Unthank. Is there somewhere we can pick your brains about a case we’re working on, Mr…?’

‘Call me Eric.’ An easy smile crossed Eric’s lined and weathered face as he pointed at a door. ‘We can talk through there if you like.’

Eric’s voice was soft and his words were delivered in the drawl common to many East Cumbrians. As with many men of his generation, he suffixed every sentence with ‘like eh?’ and turned a statement into a half question.

The room Eric led them to was half storeroom, half cloakroom. Battered clothing hung on pegs screwed to a timber rail and there were bags of feed, heavy leather gloves and wellies on timber shelving that looked as if it may collapse at any moment.

Beth reached into her folder and pulled out a file. ‘Have you heard about the bodies that have been found with wings attached to their backs?’

‘Yeah, I saw it on the news, like eh?’

‘I have some pictures of the wings. Could you take a look at them and help us identify the birds?’ Beth paused before opening the file. ‘Most of these pictures were taken when the wings were still attached to the victims’ bodies. I’m afraid they’re rather grisly.’

‘Don’t worry, I work with birds of prey. I have a strong stomach.’

Beth opened the file and passed Eric the four pictures she’d brought with her. Each was a close-up of the wings.

‘Hmm. You’ve got a Serinus canaria domestica, which is your typical domestic canary; an Alexandrine parakeet or Psittacula eupatria; a Corvus corax, which is your common crow; and an Accipiter nisus.’

The way that Eric had used the birds’ Latin names without so much as a pause for thought gave Beth reassurance that they’d come to the right place to get the info they needed.

‘What’s an Accipiter nisus?’

‘Sorry, it’s a sparrowhawk, like eh?’

‘Okay.’ Beth pointed at the pictures. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing that the canary and parrot could have been bought at a pet shop.’

‘Aye. There are breeders as well. A good Alexandrine will fetch a few hundred quid.’

Beth tried not to mirror Unthank’s wince. With the first two birds available from many sources, tracing them would be next to impossible.

‘The crow and the sparrowhawk.’ Beth locked eyes with Eric and tried not to look at his ridiculous hairstyle. ‘If I asked you to get me those birds, how would you do it?’

‘I’d use a humane trap on a crow. They’re like a cage which has bait in the middle and when the bird steps on a pressure pad, the open side closes.’ Eric pulled a face. ‘It’s a slow process though and if you wanted a specific breed it could take weeks. Anyway, the crow’s wings have been damaged by pellets. I’d say that it was shot down. That’s the easy way to get a pair of crow wings.’

Unthank leaned forward. ‘And the sparrowhawk, how would you suggest our killer got the sparrowhawk’s wings?’

‘If it was me, I’d buy a bird from a registered breeder, or,’ Eric paused and rubbed at his jaw, ‘I’d buy a stuffed one and cut its wings off.’

‘Are you able to tell the sex of the birds from the wings?’

‘Of course.’ Eric’s tone held affront at the thought he couldn’t fulfil this request rather than ego that he could. ‘The canary and sparrowhawk are female while the parrot is male. I can tell that from their plumage. There’s no way of sexing a crow by its wings alone. I’d need to see the entire bird.’

Beth tried a few more questions without learning anything more. The fact there was no correlation between the sex of the birds in relation to the victims whose backs they were affixed left her thinking the birds had been chosen at random.

As they were walking back to the car, she could tell Unthank was about to pass one of his pronouncements on Eric.

‘C’mon then, let’s have it.’

‘Have what?’

‘Your description of Eric.’

‘He’s a nice guy with a comb-over that looks as if it was done with a garden rake.’ Unthank gave a pretend bow before sliding behind the wheel of his car.

Beth tossed him a wry smile as she placed her folder on the back seat. ‘All true, but it’s not funny and I’ve heard you do much better.’