Barry Maitland - The Malcontenta

‘Yes, that might help.’ He held the corpse’s wrist for a moment, peering at its head. ‘Long gone.’ ‘How long?’

The doctor shrugged. ‘Twelve hours at least, I’d guess. But that’s only a guess. I’d like to take his temperature, but …’ He took the torch from the uniformed man and looked closely at the head and hands. Finally he stepped back and shook his head. ‘I’m not going to touch this,’ he said. ‘You’d better see if Gareth Pugh is available. If he is, he’ll want to see it undisturbed. If he isn’t, then I’ll do it.’

‘Gareth Pugh?’ Kathy asked.

‘He’s the County’s Senior Forensic Pathologist. Professor Pugh. Haven’t you come across him? I’m sure he’ll want to do the post-mortem if he can. I’ll try to call him from my car if you like. And I think you should get some lights fixed up for him.’

Kathy nodded. ‘And some SOCOs?’

‘Well, that’s up to you, really, but I’d say so. Certainly a photographer. In fact, you’ll probably need everything.’

‘You think the circumstances are suspicious?’

He shrugged. ‘Looks pretty odd to me.’

For the first time Kathy let the sense of anticipation that had been building in her since she first saw the body, come to the surface.

‘Good. You go ahead and contact the pathologist, then, doctor. I’ll get things organized down here.’ She turned to the two uniformed men, telling one to remain there and touch nothing, and the other to return to the car park to direct people to the temple as they arrived.

‘Several people have come over and asked me what’s going on while I’ve been stood out there,’ the cheerful one said.

‘Don’t tell them anything. And both of you, don’t mention anything about the things in the corner — to anyone.’ She saw him smirk. ‘I mean that,’ she glared at him. ‘Not a soul.’

Dowling and Parsons were sitting talking on the steps at the front of the temple. They scrambled to their feet as they saw her come pacing down the aisle.

‘Mr Parsons, would you take a seat inside, on one of those chairs? I won’t be a moment.’

She drew Dowling away down the steps. ‘Gordon, get on the car radio and send a scene-of-crime team out here. The photographer in particular — right away. Also a mobile generator — there’s no light down there.’ She looked around. ‘It’ll have to stand out here, so they’ll need plenty of cable.’

He was startled by her energy. ‘What’s going on, Kathy?’

‘Looks like we’ve got a suspicious death, Gordon.’ She grinned at him. ‘Something to brighten up your Monday morning, so get moving. Oh, and Gordon … try not to get Inspector Tanner when you radio through.’

He looked blank, then turned and scrambled off down the path.

Kathy went back into the temple. She was wearing her black woollen winter-coat, which almost reached her ankles, with the useful deep pockets. From one she drew out a small dictating machine and checked the tape. ‘Mr Parsons — ’ she pulled a chair round to face him and showed him the machine in her hand — ‘I’ll use this if you don’t mind. My shorthand’s hopeless.’ Big smile. He gave her a worried look, alerted, like Dowling, by the light in her eyes.

‘How are you feeling now?’

A non-committal shrug. He still looked very pasty.

‘I’d like you to describe for me exactly what you did this morning, leading up to discovering the body, and then afterwards.’

‘I …’ he cleared his throat. ‘I got up as usual, around six-thirty, got dressed and then came out.’ More throat-clearing. T was on my way to the stable block, but I came here first to open up the temple — Dr Beamish-Newell likes it to be open during the day for patients to come in and sit if they want, and to try to air the place.’

‘The doors were locked as usual?’

He nodded, ‘Yes, I’d locked them myself last evening. It was just getting dark, about a quarter to five.’

‘And what time was it when you came to open them this morning?’

‘Oh … about eight. I’m not sure exactly.’ A fit of throat-clearing. ‘Sorry.’ He wiped a hand through his hair.

‘And there isn’t another door into the building?’

‘Yes, there is. Down in the lower chamber. There’s a service door from a flight of outside steps at the back. That door is bolted from the inside.’

‘All right, so you opened this glass door.’

‘Yes. I don’t normally spend any time here when I open up. This time I just noticed a couple of chairs that were out of line, so I came in and straightened them.’

‘Which chairs?’ Kathy interrupted.

He hesitated, ‘Those two, over there, at the end of the first row. Anyway, then I thought I could see the organ light showing in the floor grille, there. I went over and saw the loop of rope. I didn’t understand what it was. I couldn’t really make it out through the grille, so I went downstairs. Then I saw him.’

‘Did you recognize the rope?’

‘The rope?’ Parsons blinked with surprise.

‘Yes, the type. Have you seen anything like it around here?’

‘Er … I’m not sure.’ He sounded confused. ‘Can I think about that? Offhand … I don’t think so.’

‘All right. Did you recognize the man straight away?’

‘Yes … well, no, not straight away. The light was behind him. I had to get fairly close.’ Parsons was breathing heavily, his face stark white.

‘You were sure that he was dead?’

‘Oh yes. He was so cold!’

‘So you touched him?’

Parsons nodded. ‘His hand …’ He was beginning to look as if he might pass out. Kathy reached forward to steady him. ‘Suppose we get you a drink of water, or tea?’ Parsons nodded, sagging.

‘Put your head between your knees. Go on. That’s right … Better?’

The bowed head nodded.

Kathy called out to the patrol officer and sent him off to find some water. ‘And tell Dowling to hurry up and report back to me,’ she shouted as he ran off.

She had to contain her impatience as the minutes passed. Parsons remained stooped with his head between his knees. Eventually the doctor reappeared at the door. He examined Parsons briefly, then nodded to the patrol officer, who had followed him in with a flask. While Parsons drank, the doctor indicated to Kathy to step out under the portico of the temple.

‘More police brutality?’ he asked.

She smiled. ‘That’s right. But you won’t find any marks on his body.’

‘Unlike the one downstairs. I got through to Pugh. We were lucky. He’ll make himself available right away. About twenty minutes, he says. I’d like to stay if you don’t mind — see the Welsh Wizard in action.’

‘He’s good, is he?’

‘By repute.’

‘Can I continue with Parsons?’ Kathy asked.

‘Oh yes. It’s just mild shock. I could give him something, but he’s OK. I might go and wait for Pugh in the car park.’

Somewhat restored, Parsons completed his account of finding Petrou’s body, running back to the house to tell Beamish-Newell, returning to the temple for the Director to see for himself, and then remaining on the temple steps for the police to arrive. While he was talking, Dowling returned and gave Kathy a thumbs-up.

‘All right, Mr Parsons, I’ll let you get off and have a cup of tea. Just before you go, though, could you give me a quick run-down on this place? How big, how many people, and so on?’

‘Well, the Director will have accurate figures, but the estate covers almost a hundred acres. It used to be much bigger, but most of the land’s been sold off. The meadows that remain are leased to a farmer; the rest is the house and grounds — about twenty acres roughly.’ Parsons had become animated, clearly relieved to change the subject.