Free The Delta Chain by Ian Edward

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