the day with their own. Peace on earth, goodwill towards neighbours. So I came in early and got on with your post, and Martha’s taken the phone off the hook and she’s going to garden all day. So all’s well with the world.’
‘Hey nonny no?’ Slider suggested.
‘At least. And possibly even a derry derry down. Now your corpus, best beloved: a fine specimen altogether. Shocking waste! No sign of any drug abuse. No needle marks. Well nourished. Looks admirably healthy – all the internal organs in the pink. As it were.’
‘Is that it?’
‘No, there were a couple of interesting features. Firstly, the tattoos.’
‘I didn’t see any tattoos.’
‘You wouldn’t from where you were standing, at the bathroom door. They were on the side away from you. Left thigh and left ankle. They’re rather interesting and nicely done. I’ve sent over photographs for you. The important point is that I think they’re fairly recent. Tattooing affects the body like second-degree burns, and healing follows certain stages. I think they were done within the past few months.’
‘Maybe he was a footballer,’ Slider said, thinking of David Beckham. ‘He’s got the highlights for it.’
‘Hasn’t got big enough thighs,’ Cameron replied smartly.
‘Anyway, what am I thinking? They make a fortune. He wouldn’t be living in a flat like that. Second point?’
‘Second point, when I opened the stomach I found food residue – pizza, to be specific – which he must have eaten within three hours of death – I would say between one and two hours.’
‘Ah,’ said Slider. ‘That gives us something to work on.’
‘Also some spiritous liquid – I would guess vodka,’ Cameron went on. ‘But no capsule cases. The pathological evidence that he had taken a narcotic was clear. You see the significance?’
Slider did. ‘Because how did he take it, if not by capsule? He might empty the contents out of the capsules, but why would he bother if he was committing suicide? On the other hand—’
‘On the other hand,’ Cameron finished for him, ‘if it was murder, you can’t say to your intended victim, “Would you mind just knocking back these little red and black jobs, old horse?” You’d have to empty them into something on the sly.’
Slider nodded, then realized Cameron couldn’t see him and said, ‘Yes. The thing that puzzles me, though, is that if it was a murder that was meant to look like suicide, why not cut the wrists? That would have looked more natural.’
‘Squeamishness?’ Freddie suggested. ‘Also messiness. The murderer doesn’t want to get blood all over himself. Slippery customers, wrists, especially when they’re wet and bloody. This left no mess to clear up. The killer cut a vein, not an artery, so there would be no spurting. Just nice, slow, tidy bleeding. I imagine the victim got into the bath under his own steam – as it were – and the murderer waited until he dozed off to do the deed.’
‘Which means we’re looking for a murderer who can persuade a man to take a bath while they’re in the house.’
‘Taken with the pizza and the vodka, it does suggest a degree of intimacy,’ Freddie agreed. ‘The TV repair man doesn’t say, “I’ll run you a nice warm bath, dear.” Mine doesn’t, anyway,’ he added regretfully. ‘So, some food for thought?’
‘A four-course dinner,’ Slider said. ‘Thanks, Freddie.’
In the first mail was a preliminary report from Bob Bailey to the effect that all the main surfaces in the flat had been wiped. The only fingermarks they had found that weren’t the victim’s were Botev’s – on the flat’s entrance door, the on-off button of the CD-player, and the bathroom door jamb.
‘Which bears out Botev’s story. And makes it almost definitely murder,’ Slider said to the troops.
‘Almost?’ Swilley queried.
‘It’s physically possible that the victim wiped things down himself, but why would he – especially as he left marks in
‘Hey nonny no?’ Slider suggested.
‘At least. And possibly even a derry derry down. Now your corpus, best beloved: a fine specimen altogether. Shocking waste! No sign of any drug abuse. No needle marks. Well nourished. Looks admirably healthy – all the internal organs in the pink. As it were.’
‘Is that it?’
‘No, there were a couple of interesting features. Firstly, the tattoos.’
‘I didn’t see any tattoos.’
‘You wouldn’t from where you were standing, at the bathroom door. They were on the side away from you. Left thigh and left ankle. They’re rather interesting and nicely done. I’ve sent over photographs for you. The important point is that I think they’re fairly recent. Tattooing affects the body like second-degree burns, and healing follows certain stages. I think they were done within the past few months.’
‘Maybe he was a footballer,’ Slider said, thinking of David Beckham. ‘He’s got the highlights for it.’
‘Hasn’t got big enough thighs,’ Cameron replied smartly.
‘Anyway, what am I thinking? They make a fortune. He wouldn’t be living in a flat like that. Second point?’
‘Second point, when I opened the stomach I found food residue – pizza, to be specific – which he must have eaten within three hours of death – I would say between one and two hours.’
‘Ah,’ said Slider. ‘That gives us something to work on.’
‘Also some spiritous liquid – I would guess vodka,’ Cameron went on. ‘But no capsule cases. The pathological evidence that he had taken a narcotic was clear. You see the significance?’
Slider did. ‘Because how did he take it, if not by capsule? He might empty the contents out of the capsules, but why would he bother if he was committing suicide? On the other hand—’
‘On the other hand,’ Cameron finished for him, ‘if it was murder, you can’t say to your intended victim, “Would you mind just knocking back these little red and black jobs, old horse?” You’d have to empty them into something on the sly.’
Slider nodded, then realized Cameron couldn’t see him and said, ‘Yes. The thing that puzzles me, though, is that if it was a murder that was meant to look like suicide, why not cut the wrists? That would have looked more natural.’
‘Squeamishness?’ Freddie suggested. ‘Also messiness. The murderer doesn’t want to get blood all over himself. Slippery customers, wrists, especially when they’re wet and bloody. This left no mess to clear up. The killer cut a vein, not an artery, so there would be no spurting. Just nice, slow, tidy bleeding. I imagine the victim got into the bath under his own steam – as it were – and the murderer waited until he dozed off to do the deed.’
‘Which means we’re looking for a murderer who can persuade a man to take a bath while they’re in the house.’
‘Taken with the pizza and the vodka, it does suggest a degree of intimacy,’ Freddie agreed. ‘The TV repair man doesn’t say, “I’ll run you a nice warm bath, dear.” Mine doesn’t, anyway,’ he added regretfully. ‘So, some food for thought?’
‘A four-course dinner,’ Slider said. ‘Thanks, Freddie.’
In the first mail was a preliminary report from Bob Bailey to the effect that all the main surfaces in the flat had been wiped. The only fingermarks they had found that weren’t the victim’s were Botev’s – on the flat’s entrance door, the on-off button of the CD-player, and the bathroom door jamb.
‘Which bears out Botev’s story. And makes it almost definitely murder,’ Slider said to the troops.
‘Almost?’ Swilley queried.
‘It’s physically possible that the victim wiped things down himself, but why would he – especially as he left marks in
Similar Books
