Bill Franks - Jesuit

Sampler came to life. “Yes. I’ll give you a ring in a couple of hours.”

“Right,” he heard as the pathologist became lost in the bushes. He followed with Miller close behind. They broke through the vegetation and reached their car as Sallie’s disappeared round a bend. “You drive, Clive,” said Sampler. “I want to think a bit.”

Yes. And I’ll bet it’s about that bit of skirt, not the murder , he thought acidly. He was correct.

On the journey back to the Met, Graham had begun wondering at how he had become so taken with the young pathologist. He had noticed her before, that much was true, but not really in that way. After all, he really washappily married and he would not wish to do anything that might interfere with that state of affairs. Still… she did seem to reciprocate. For a few miles, he fantasised about adult activity with her…and she was great…as was he!

Suddenly returning to the world, he was aware that Clive was speaking to him and it occurred to him that he had been for some time. I wonder if I should have given any replies , he thought guiltily. “Mmm,” he said, hoping that would be sufficient.

From then, they talked about the latest murder and the similarities to the others. How were they going to catch this man? The clues, such as they were, led in no definite direction. By the time they had arrived back at the Yard, Graham had decided that the only way forward now, was to go back on the case and interview the bereaved and friends and relatives to see if there was a common denominator. Long, painstaking work, but it needed to be done and he felt that they would be better served carrying out the enquiries themselves.

A little over three hours later, with Graham and Clive deeply immersed in the murder case files, the telephone rang. “Yes!” barked Graham.

His mood suddenly altered when he recognised the sweet, warm voice of Sallie Dunning. “Oh, yes, Sallie,” he said, his voice noticeably softening. Clive felt like vomiting! “Have you completed the examination?” Still sickly-sweetly. A pause and then: “Oh, okay. I’ll pop round right away.”

Replacing the phone, he looked up at Clive to tell him to remain here whilst he went to see Sallie; no point two of them going. Clive was smiling knowingly, almost — only almost, causing a blush.

Eyes widening in pure innocence, Clive remarked, “Yes, Guv’nor. Will you be leaving the office?” The twinkle in his eyes betrayed the sarcasm.

“Enough of that,” Graham returned gruffly. “Yes. Business.”

“Of course, sir,” he said respectfully.

“Yes. Well. You carry on here and I’ll go and see what she has for us.”

Clive grinned, his thoughts evident.

Graham got up and left the office, annoyed at his partner for his silent insubordination. He resisted the temptation to slam the office door as he exited.

Sallie greeted Graham with her warm smile and handed him a mouth mask. He gratefully donned the mask; the smell of this unpleasant room had turned many stomachs. There was also the risk of inhaling some nasty little microbe that would bring a grown man to his knees with sickness.

He nodded a greeting to the other person in the room, Kevin Brindle, assistant to Sallie, whom Graham had met on many occasions. He was a married man with two children and he was thirty-five years of age. It was generally considered that he should, by now, be head of his department but, as a plodder, rather than a go-getter, he had seen the energetic, ambitious Sallie take the position even though she was seven years his junior and had come into the profession some years after him.

Sallie began: “Well, Graham, we have carried out the examination, removed and weighed everything necessary and carried out some tests.”

“Go on,” said Graham.

“The victim died from a strong dose of Opium poisoning. This is the same as used on the young girl, Kylie Johnson. After very careful examination, I was unable to find how the drug had been administered.”

Sampler groaned as Sallie continued, unperturbed. “Therefore, I borrowed the equipment left here temporarily by Doctor Wray. Even with that, I could at first find nothing.” She was all business now; no warm smile, or indeed, smiles of any kind. “Then, on studying an old immunisation scar on her left arm — one that had completely healed over with no new puncture marks — I noticed a slight redness to the area. Zooming in as close as possible, I observed the most minute of enlargements to the actual pores in that location. Kevin, here,” she pointed to her assistant, “also had a look, and he agrees that the pores are extended beyond the normal.”

“How on earth did he do that?” asked Sampler. Did he use a multi-syringe or something?”

Sallie smiled the business smile, saying: “No. I don’t know of any such device. What it appears to be, incredibly, is an air-operated injection, a burst of compressed air forcing the fluid into the arm. The area in the body covered by the poison is greater than would be with a normal syringe. However, that is most certainly the point of entry.”

Graham looked at her in admiration. “Thank you, Sallie,” he said. “That confirms to me that it is the work of the same person.

“I should also add,” Sallie replied, “that sexual intercourse had taken place. On the evidence, I would say that the intercourse was consensual. There were also faint traces of seminal fluid in the mouth; not an ejaculation, it seems to be more of the lubrication stage. Enough for DNA samples, though, and I have retained a sample.”

“Thank you, again, Sallie,” said Graham as he tossed the mask into a nearby waste-bin and turned to leave. Sallie caught up with him and escorted him to the door. “I need to work a bit late, tonight, Graham,” she said in a low voice. “Would you like to take a bite to eat with me at the pub over the road and then come back whilst I complete your report?”

Graham’s heart missed several beats. The invitation definitely seemed to be concocted on the spur of the moment. What did she want? he mused. “Well…er…yes.” he replied without thinking. “Erm…I can certainly find work to do in the meantime.”

“Good. Six, then?” Graham readily agreed.

Sending Clive home at five-thirty, Graham tried hard to concentrate on the work in hand but it was impossible. He kept reading the same lines time and again, without absorbing any of what he read. His mind wandered. What was he letting himself in for? The woman was young, beautiful, gifted — and married! As was he! What could she possibly see in him? Of course, he wasn’t old himself but she was about thirty and therefore, in his eyes, very young.

The thoughts ran through his mind until he was suddenly jarred out of them by the shrill ringing of the telephone. It was Sallie to say that she was now leaving for the pub and would he be ready. He confirmed his readiness as he almost leapt to his feet, snatching his jacket from the door peg. He replaced the phone and hurried out.

On entering the pub, ‘The Coat Of Arms,’ he spotted the woman at the bar, ordering a drink. Muscling through the crowd, made up mostly of office workers on their way home, and a number of off-duty police men and women, he reached the bar just in time to pay for her drink, a Bacardi and Coke, and order himself a pint of Best Bitter beer.

Finding a reasonably secluded table in a corner near the entrance and next to an old style, multi-framed window, he asked Sallie what she would like to eat. “Anything with a salad,” she replied. Graham walked over to a large sandwich display situated on the far wall and completely out of style with the pub’s old-fashioned decor, and chose a ham and salad sandwich for Sallie. Putting in the required coins, he took the cellophane-wrapped and sealed food, cut into perfect triangles, and wondered whatever had happened to good, wholesome food prepared on the premises, in times not too long ago. For himself, he chose a cheese and beetroot sandwich conscious of the fact that he had deliberately avoided foods that would have tainted his breath, such as egg, onions and garlic. Before returning to Sallie, he used his mobile to get in touch with Bethany making the excuse that he had a lot of catching up to do with his paperwork and he would not be home until eight-thirty, or so. He surprised himself with the easy way in which he was preparing for an illicit affair with a married woman. In all his time with Bethany, before and after marriage, he had never once been unfaithful, nor indeed, had the thought ever crossed his mind. Now, he was coldly and determinedly laying the ground for — yes, a laying!