cheese knives on Cooper and on Ben.’
It was a struggle to get my head round what Stella was saying. ‘That’s insane. I can’t think of any reason why the person who killed Brian Cooper would have any motive to kill Ben.’
Stella looked uneasy. ‘Can we come back to that, please, Andy? I’ve got something else to tell you. Something that might help to make sense of this.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’m up for anything that stops me feeling like I’m on the wrong side of the looking glass.’
‘I thought that I would go back and take another look at Jack Farrell’s body.’
‘You thinking someone murdered him and made it look like suicide?’ I asked. ‘That won’t fly, Stella. The suicide note was witnessed by his lawyer. He didn’t read the contents, but he witnessed the signature.’
Stella’s smile was wry. ‘That wasn’t what I was going to say, Andy.’
‘Sorry.’ I pulled a face. ‘Shouldn’t put words in your mouth. Go on. Tell me why you wanted to take a crack at Jack.’
‘No reason you could put your finger on. Just that it all started with him. And it’s as well I did, really.’ She opened the second file she was carrying. From where I was sitting, I could see bar charts and coloured photos of some part of the human body in cross section.
‘I checked this three times, just to make sure I was right,’ she said, looking me straight in the eye. ‘Andy, whoever you’ve got in that mortuary drawer, it’s not Jack Farrell.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I WAS LOST FOR WORDS . ‘What do you mean, not Jack Farrell?’ I said. ‘I made the ID myself.’
‘I know, I saw the paperwork. Can I ask you why you ended up doing it?’
‘The wife was tranked up to the max, there was no way we could have got her to do it. And I knew it was him.’
‘How did you know?’ Stella was giving me that wary look, the one she does when she thinks I’m not going to like where she’s taking me.
‘Because of the tattoos,’ I said.
Stella looked grim. ‘I thought so. But you were wrong, Andy.’
‘Oh, come on, Stella,’ I protested. ‘You’re not telling me there are two blokes walking around with matching tattoos like that. No way.’
‘I know it’s hard to believe, but if you saw his tattoos while Jack Farrell was alive and well, then this is not his body.’
I shook my head. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Here’s the thing about tattoos. When you have them done, the dye seeps under the skin and into your body’s defence system. It’s drawn up into the nearest lymph gland, and it stays there, preserved for the rest of your life. If I cut through the lymph glands after you’re dead, I can see staining that tells me which part of the body had the tattoo, and what colours it was. In fact, if the tattoo’s old, the colours in the lymph gland will probably be brighter than the colours on the skin.’
My mouth had fallen open. ‘You’re kidding,’ I said, remembering to shut it after I’d spoken.
‘Deadly serious,’ Stella said. ‘The first time I came across it was with a torso that washed up on the mud at the Isle of Dogs. I was able to tell you guys that the corpse had had a red and blue tattoo on his left arm and a blue and green one on his right arm. That was enough to ID him from the list of missing persons.’
‘OK, OK. But I still don’t understand how that tells you this isn’t Jack Farrell,’ I said.
‘This body has clean lymph glands,’ Stella said, pointing to some of the cross-section shots.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘The ink only gets drawn up into the lymph glands if you still have a pulse. These tattoos were done after this man died. Not before.’ Stella leaned forward, an intense look in her eyes. ‘This body cannot be Jack Farrell’s.’
I closed my eyes. This felt like a very bad dream. I took a deep breath and glared at Stella. It wasn’t her fault, but she was where my face was pointing. ‘If you’re right, then that means Jack Farrell killed this
It was a struggle to get my head round what Stella was saying. ‘That’s insane. I can’t think of any reason why the person who killed Brian Cooper would have any motive to kill Ben.’
Stella looked uneasy. ‘Can we come back to that, please, Andy? I’ve got something else to tell you. Something that might help to make sense of this.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’m up for anything that stops me feeling like I’m on the wrong side of the looking glass.’
‘I thought that I would go back and take another look at Jack Farrell’s body.’
‘You thinking someone murdered him and made it look like suicide?’ I asked. ‘That won’t fly, Stella. The suicide note was witnessed by his lawyer. He didn’t read the contents, but he witnessed the signature.’
Stella’s smile was wry. ‘That wasn’t what I was going to say, Andy.’
‘Sorry.’ I pulled a face. ‘Shouldn’t put words in your mouth. Go on. Tell me why you wanted to take a crack at Jack.’
‘No reason you could put your finger on. Just that it all started with him. And it’s as well I did, really.’ She opened the second file she was carrying. From where I was sitting, I could see bar charts and coloured photos of some part of the human body in cross section.
‘I checked this three times, just to make sure I was right,’ she said, looking me straight in the eye. ‘Andy, whoever you’ve got in that mortuary drawer, it’s not Jack Farrell.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I WAS LOST FOR WORDS . ‘What do you mean, not Jack Farrell?’ I said. ‘I made the ID myself.’
‘I know, I saw the paperwork. Can I ask you why you ended up doing it?’
‘The wife was tranked up to the max, there was no way we could have got her to do it. And I knew it was him.’
‘How did you know?’ Stella was giving me that wary look, the one she does when she thinks I’m not going to like where she’s taking me.
‘Because of the tattoos,’ I said.
Stella looked grim. ‘I thought so. But you were wrong, Andy.’
‘Oh, come on, Stella,’ I protested. ‘You’re not telling me there are two blokes walking around with matching tattoos like that. No way.’
‘I know it’s hard to believe, but if you saw his tattoos while Jack Farrell was alive and well, then this is not his body.’
I shook my head. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Here’s the thing about tattoos. When you have them done, the dye seeps under the skin and into your body’s defence system. It’s drawn up into the nearest lymph gland, and it stays there, preserved for the rest of your life. If I cut through the lymph glands after you’re dead, I can see staining that tells me which part of the body had the tattoo, and what colours it was. In fact, if the tattoo’s old, the colours in the lymph gland will probably be brighter than the colours on the skin.’
My mouth had fallen open. ‘You’re kidding,’ I said, remembering to shut it after I’d spoken.
‘Deadly serious,’ Stella said. ‘The first time I came across it was with a torso that washed up on the mud at the Isle of Dogs. I was able to tell you guys that the corpse had had a red and blue tattoo on his left arm and a blue and green one on his right arm. That was enough to ID him from the list of missing persons.’
‘OK, OK. But I still don’t understand how that tells you this isn’t Jack Farrell,’ I said.
‘This body has clean lymph glands,’ Stella said, pointing to some of the cross-section shots.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘The ink only gets drawn up into the lymph glands if you still have a pulse. These tattoos were done after this man died. Not before.’ Stella leaned forward, an intense look in her eyes. ‘This body cannot be Jack Farrell’s.’
I closed my eyes. This felt like a very bad dream. I took a deep breath and glared at Stella. It wasn’t her fault, but she was where my face was pointing. ‘If you’re right, then that means Jack Farrell killed this
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