the lie to that one.
‘You can put your trousers back on now. We’re done. For today.’
‘I don’t suppose you know what the problem is?’
Esmerelda gave him a look far older than her years. ‘Which one? You had a double fracture in your right femur. That’s a difficult bone to heal properly at the best of times, but you insisted on going back to work beforeyou were ready. You won’t rest it properly, you sit poorly and you don’t do the exercises I gave you. If you were twenty and fit, you might just get away with it. You’re not twenty, though. And you’re not fit.’
McLean felt like Constable MacBride, a deep red blush heating his cheeks, the tops of his ears burning. It was a long time since he’d had a good telling off like that, and the fact that the person telling him off was half his age didn’t detract one bit from the fact that she was absolutely right.
‘I’ll try harder,’ he muttered, aware of just how much he sounded like himself as a boy in that horrible English boarding school. Terrified of Matron and her withering stare. At least Esmerelda didn’t look like a harridan.
‘You do that, Inspector. I look forward to seeing evidence of it next week.’
9
Thewalk down to the city mortuary was cold, a bitter wind blowing in from the Firth of Forth. McLean tried to stretch his leg as he walked, stung by the physiotherapist’s words about his fitness. He couldn’t argue with her about his age. Overhead, the clouds had that purple tinge to them that promised more snow. At least it was still daylight, though that wouldn’t last long.
Angus had already started on the body, ably assisted by the long-suffering Dr Sharp. Sitting at the back of the examination theatre, Dr Peachey looked bored, most likely because his presence was a legal requirement as witness to the proceedings. McLean thought he’d slipped into the observation area without being seen, but Cadwallader was never easy to fool.
‘Nice of you to join us, Tony,’ he said without taking his eyes off the cadaver. ‘I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to.’
‘I was told half past.’ McLean looked at his watch, saw that it was a quarter to. ‘Sorry. It’s been a busy day.’
‘No gently easing back into the flow after your enforced leave, I take it.’ Cadwallader pulled something dark and slippery out through the large incision in the dead man’s chest. Plopped it down on the stainless steel tray that Dr Sharp was already holding out for him. They were a well-rehearsed team.
‘What,you don’t think Weatherly’s an easy case?’
Cadwallader stopped, his hand poised over the body ready to delve in again, and turned to face McLean.
‘I would’ve thought they’d want it all squared away neat and tidy.’ Cadwallader shook his head, turned back to the task in hand. ‘That’s not really your style.’
‘Yes, well whoever “they” are, they’ve pissed off Duguid somewhere along the line. I could’ve told them that wasn’t a good idea. Now he’s decided I’m a spanner and he’s going to throw me into the works.’
Cadwallader straightened up, handing yet another organ to his assistant. ‘You know, that’s so cynical it’s almost brilliant.’
‘You don’t have to deal with the consequences though, Angus. I’m the one who’s going to get all the shit when it doesn’t go to their script. I’ve already had Jo Dalgliesh bending my ear. Christ alone knows what’s going to turn up next.’
‘Yes. The term “poisoned chalice” springs to mind.’
McLean saw the CCTV video spool through his mind’s eye. The twin girls drinking the milk given them by their father. A shiver ran through him at the thought.
‘What about our mysterious tattooed man? Didn’t just accidentally fall in and drown?’
‘After taking all his clothes off first? If only it were that simple.’ Cadwallader stood away from the body, swept his arms wide to take in its full length. ‘This, I’m afraid, quite
‘You can put your trousers back on now. We’re done. For today.’
‘I don’t suppose you know what the problem is?’
Esmerelda gave him a look far older than her years. ‘Which one? You had a double fracture in your right femur. That’s a difficult bone to heal properly at the best of times, but you insisted on going back to work beforeyou were ready. You won’t rest it properly, you sit poorly and you don’t do the exercises I gave you. If you were twenty and fit, you might just get away with it. You’re not twenty, though. And you’re not fit.’
McLean felt like Constable MacBride, a deep red blush heating his cheeks, the tops of his ears burning. It was a long time since he’d had a good telling off like that, and the fact that the person telling him off was half his age didn’t detract one bit from the fact that she was absolutely right.
‘I’ll try harder,’ he muttered, aware of just how much he sounded like himself as a boy in that horrible English boarding school. Terrified of Matron and her withering stare. At least Esmerelda didn’t look like a harridan.
‘You do that, Inspector. I look forward to seeing evidence of it next week.’
9
Thewalk down to the city mortuary was cold, a bitter wind blowing in from the Firth of Forth. McLean tried to stretch his leg as he walked, stung by the physiotherapist’s words about his fitness. He couldn’t argue with her about his age. Overhead, the clouds had that purple tinge to them that promised more snow. At least it was still daylight, though that wouldn’t last long.
Angus had already started on the body, ably assisted by the long-suffering Dr Sharp. Sitting at the back of the examination theatre, Dr Peachey looked bored, most likely because his presence was a legal requirement as witness to the proceedings. McLean thought he’d slipped into the observation area without being seen, but Cadwallader was never easy to fool.
‘Nice of you to join us, Tony,’ he said without taking his eyes off the cadaver. ‘I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to.’
‘I was told half past.’ McLean looked at his watch, saw that it was a quarter to. ‘Sorry. It’s been a busy day.’
‘No gently easing back into the flow after your enforced leave, I take it.’ Cadwallader pulled something dark and slippery out through the large incision in the dead man’s chest. Plopped it down on the stainless steel tray that Dr Sharp was already holding out for him. They were a well-rehearsed team.
‘What,you don’t think Weatherly’s an easy case?’
Cadwallader stopped, his hand poised over the body ready to delve in again, and turned to face McLean.
‘I would’ve thought they’d want it all squared away neat and tidy.’ Cadwallader shook his head, turned back to the task in hand. ‘That’s not really your style.’
‘Yes, well whoever “they” are, they’ve pissed off Duguid somewhere along the line. I could’ve told them that wasn’t a good idea. Now he’s decided I’m a spanner and he’s going to throw me into the works.’
Cadwallader straightened up, handing yet another organ to his assistant. ‘You know, that’s so cynical it’s almost brilliant.’
‘You don’t have to deal with the consequences though, Angus. I’m the one who’s going to get all the shit when it doesn’t go to their script. I’ve already had Jo Dalgliesh bending my ear. Christ alone knows what’s going to turn up next.’
‘Yes. The term “poisoned chalice” springs to mind.’
McLean saw the CCTV video spool through his mind’s eye. The twin girls drinking the milk given them by their father. A shiver ran through him at the thought.
‘What about our mysterious tattooed man? Didn’t just accidentally fall in and drown?’
‘After taking all his clothes off first? If only it were that simple.’ Cadwallader stood away from the body, swept his arms wide to take in its full length. ‘This, I’m afraid, quite
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