Free Death of an Expert Witness by P. D. James Page A

Middlemass's secure self-esteem.
    But at least it warranted a retort. He found that he was getting angry. And suddenly he saw light. He said:
    "Look, mate, if you can't make it in bed, if she isn't finding you quite up to the mark, don't take your frustration out on the rest of us. Remember Chesterfield's advice. The expense is exorbitant, the position ridiculous, and the pleasure transitory."
    The result astounded him. Lorrimer gave a strangled cry and lunged out. Middlemass's reaction was both instinctive and deeply satisfying.
    He shot out his right arm and landed a punch on Lorrimer's nose. There was a second's astonished silence in which the two men regarded each other. Then the blood spurted and Lorrimer tottered and fell forward.
    Middlemass caught him by the shoulders and felt the weight of his head against his chest. He thought: "My God, he's going to faint." He was aware of a tangle of emotion, surprise at himself, boyish gratification, pity and an impulse to laugh. He said:
    "Are you all right?" Lorrimer tore himself from his grasp and stood upright. He fumbled for his handkerchief and held it to his nose. The red stain grew. Looking down, Middlemass saw Lorrimer's blood spreading on his white overall, decorative as a rose. He said:
    "Since we're engaging in histrionics, I believe your response ought now to be "By God, you swine, you'll pay for this.""
    He was astounded by the sudden blaze of hate in the black eyes.
    Lorrimer's voice came to him muffled by the handkerchief.
    "You will pay for it." And then he was gone. Middlemass was suddenly aware of Mrs. Bidwell, the Laboratory cleaner, standing by the door, eyes large and excited behind her ridiculous up swept diamante spectacles.
    "Nice goings on, I don't think. Senior staff fighting each other. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."
    "Oh, we are, Mrs. Bidwell. We are." Slowly Middlemass eased his long arms from his overall. He handed it to her.
    "Drop this in the soiled linen, will you."
    "Now you know very well, Mr. Middlemass, that I don't go into the gents' cloakroom, not in working hours. You put it in the basket yourself. And if you want a clean one now, you know where to find it. I'm putting out no more clean linen until tomorrow. Fighting, indeed. I might have known that Dr. Lorrimer would be mixed up in it. But he's not a gentleman you'd expect to find using his fists. Wouldn't have the guts, that would be my view. But he's been odd in his manner these last few days, no doubt about that. You heard about that spot of bother in the front hall yesterday, I suppose? He practically pushed those kids of Dr. Kerrison's out of the door. All they were doing was waiting for their dad. No harm in that, I suppose. There's a very nasty atmosphere in this Lab recently, and if a certain gentleman doesn't take a hold of himself there'll be a mischief done, you mark my words."
    It was nearly five o'clock and dark before Detective Inspector Doyle got back to his home in the village four miles to the north of Cambridge. He had tried to telephone his wife once, but without success: the line was engaged. Another of her interminable, secretive and expensive telephone calls to one of her old nursing friends, he thought, and, duly satisfied, made no further attempt. The wrought-iron gate, as usual, was open and he parked in front of the house. It wasn't worth garaging the car for a couple of hours, which was all the time he could allow himself.
    Scoope House hardly looked its best in the late afternoon of a dark November evening. No wonder that the agents hadn't recently sent anyone to view. It was a bad time of the year. The house was, he thought, a monument to miscalculation. He had bought it for less than seventeen thousand and had spent five thousand on it to date, expecting to sell it for at least forty. But that was before the recession had upset the calculations of more expert speculators than he. Now, with the property market sluggish, there was nothing to do but