Free Where Death Delights by Bernard Knight Page B

he was in his cups, and I reckon this time he wandered down to the quayside and fell in. Been washing up and down with the tide ever since, until he got caught in an old tree trunk.’
    Richard finished his work, washed his hands and made some notes, then did the financial business with the coroner’s officer, handing over an additional half-crown per case to Solly. He was back at the house in time for lunch, such as it was, but before that, he handed over his samples to the two women.
    â€˜We need a blood and urine alcohol and perhaps you’d have a look for diatoms, Angela? There was too much post-mortem change to be definite about drowning.’
    The biologist held up the pots containing the lung tissue.
    â€˜There’s a lot of argument in the journals about whether the diatom test is reliable, but we’ll give it a try again,’ she said dubiously.
    Sian was itching to break into the conversation. ‘Stacks of barbiturate in that lady, Doctor Pryor!’ she said proudly. ‘The system worked fine on our first try-out, the report’s on your desk.’
    Richard was careful to congratulate the young woman, as he wanted to encourage her keenness and she went off beaming, anxious to set up her Widmark system for alcohol analysis.
    â€˜Any calls from that chap in London?’ he asked Angela, as they made their way to the kitchen to rustle up something to eat.
    â€˜Nothing so far – nor any sign of the Scottish lady,’ as she persisted in calling the potential applicant.
    â€˜We did say in the afternoon, so let’s keep our fingers crossed,’ said Richard, as he rooted in the old fridge.
    Pushing aside a sealed box of blood-grouping sera, he pulled out a bowl of tomatoes, a washed lettuce and a cucumber, while Angela put plates, cutlery and mugs on the table.
    â€˜I have visions of her as a big, fat woman with a double chin and her hair rolled into a head band, like they did during the war,’ she said.
    â€˜I don’t give a damn what she looks like as long as she can clean, make beds and cook something,’ replied Pryor. ‘I wonder if she can make Chinese fried rice?’ he added, wistfully.
    Sian came in with her tin box of sandwiches and a bottle of Corona orangeade, a change from her usual Tizer. Angela opened a tin of Spam, which they ate with salad and some fresh bread from the village bakery, followed by part of a Lyon’s Swiss roll. Just as they were finishing and thinking of making tea, the phone rang outside.
    â€˜Perhaps that’s him!’ exclaimed Sian, whom Angela had told about the mysterious Swansea case. Richard hurried out and was gone for about five minutes, leaving the two women waiting impatiently for news.
    He returned and sat down in maddeningly slow motion.
    â€˜Well, was it him?’ demanded Angela.
    â€˜Yep, we’ve got another job, by the looks of it. It will mean a bit of travelling.’
    He gave them the gist of his conversation with Leonard Massey, whose married daughter had been found dead in the sea off a rocky part of the Gower coast over a week ago. She had been swimming alone and was presumed to have drowned, which was confirmed by a coroner’s post-mortem.
    â€˜An inquest was opened a couple of days later and a burial order issued, the full inquest to take place at a later date,’ said Pryor.
    â€˜So where do we come into it?’ asked Angela.
    â€˜Massey wants a second post-mortem, as he’s not satisfied with the circumstances. He was a bit cagey about telling me more on the phone, but he’s coming down to Swansea tomorrow to see the coroner and suggests I meet him there afterwards for a conference.’
    â€˜Business is looking up!’ commented Angela. ‘I had a call this morning from a solicitor in Bristol wanting two more paternity tests.’
    A distant knock on the front door reverberated through the empty hall and Sian jumped up to answer