Free The Delta Chain by Iain Edward Henn

coastlines.’
    Morgan wrote in his notebook. ‘You think you can trace back to where the body entered the water?’
    ‘There’s always a chance. The body was washed in by strong currents. It follows that, around twenty four hours earlier, the entry point must’ve been somewhere out to sea, further north.’
    ‘Which means she could’ve been on a boat.’
    ‘Definitely worth pursuing.’
    ‘If she went overboard there’d have been an alert.’
    ‘Not if it wasn’t an accident.’
    ‘I believe we have a juicy little mystery on our hands,’ said a voice from the doorway. Both men looked up as Arthur Kirby strode in. ‘I take my first holiday since arriving here and an unidentified floater turns up. Bloody inconsiderate.’
    ‘Welcome back, Arthur,’ Adam said. Kirby had been station chief for over five years and had taken his share of leave, but he had a strange sense of humour. Statements made as a joke were delivered, not lightly, but with a serious edge. And he rarely laughed.
    Kirby was a large man, with great, beefy slabs for his arms and legs and a demeanour that was at times, for Adam, deliberately confrontational. ‘Any answers on this, Adam?’
    Adam didn’t bother to point out that the body had only been discovered the night before. He calmly put Kirby in the picture.
    ‘A drowning is one thing,’ Kirby said, ‘but an unidentified corpse could be linked with that Mermaid case, and that’s a whole different ballgame. The town’s fiftieth is on the horizon and this is a headache none of us need.’
    Adam frowned. ‘What made you link this with the Mermaid? This floater of ours was only found last night.’
    ‘Because I’ve just had the mayor on the phone saying exactly that,’ Kirby said. ‘Apparently his office had a call this morning from some pushy bitch over on the Express. Wanted to know whether the mayor thought this mysterious body would put a dampener on the upcoming festivities, to which she was told “no”. Then she wanted the mayor’s thoughts on the similarity to this so- called “Mermaid” case in Morrissey. She was told “no comment”. But of course she’ll print her inflammatory questions and our “no comment” without regard to the impact.’
    ‘Why would the Express want to do a big number on this?’ Ken Morgan wondered aloud.
    ‘Damn silly bitch is trying to make it a bigger story than it is,’ Kirby said, ‘and her attitude, I’ll bet, is that the public have a right to know or some such bullshit.’
    ‘I’ll take a firm line with the Express,’ Adam told Kirby, ‘I’ll impress on Eddie Cochrane that it would be irresponsible to make more of this than it really is.’
    ‘It’s just a drowning,’ Morgan commented, puzzled.
    ‘It’s whatever some stuck-up reporter wants to make of it,’ said Arthur Kirby with disgust. ‘Adam, the mayor wants to see us in his office at one’o’clock. And you’ll need to have some answers.’
    Adam resisted the temptation to “bite.” ‘One’o’clock it is,’ he said.
     
    The day continued just as William Westmeyer hoped. Warm, relaxing, stimulating.
    He surveyed his guests. They were just as he wanted them to be after the morning session – unwinding, with their interest well and truly piqued. Most importantly, he knew he’d convinced them that scientific research was not something abstract, confined to uni departments – it was every bit as dynamic as the worlds of finance and technology. It was commercially viable and profit motivated. With potential investors, that was the bottom line.
    Westmeyer placed a wing of chicken and an assortment of salads on his plate as he moved along the serving table. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Dr. Stephen Hunter gesturing to him. Hunter was seated with two of the guests. Of all his scientists, Hunter was the one that reminded Westmeyer of his own early years. Hunter’s eyes were mysterious and seductive pools, with the promise of hidden depths. Like