Free A Killing Karma by Geraldine Evans Page B

well?’
    She shook her
head again and said, ‘There's his work colleagues, of course, but I'd rather
not trouble them. Besides, if the man you found is Gus, then I'm his widow.’
She sat up straighter in Casey's visitor's chair and said with a determined
edge to her voice, ‘I’d prefer to do any identifying that's necessary.’
    ‘Very well. If
you're sure.’ Defeated in his desire to spare her the ordeal of identifying the
man who seemed likely to be her husband, Casey tried another friendly overture.
‘Have you a neighbour who could stay with you?’
    ‘No. There is
no one.’ She hesitated, then said, 'I need to know, Chief Inspector. One way or
the other. I need to see him and know for certain.’ Her voice became stilted as
she added, ‘If I don't see the body I'll always wonder if it was really my
husband. If he’s really dead.’ Her voice petered out and she sat still and
silent, her head bowed.
    Casey broke
into her reverie. 'Of course. Don't worry. We'll take you along to view the
body shortly, seeing as there is no one else to do it. I'll get it organized.
But before I do that, I need confirmation of your husband's name. You called
him Gus. I presume that's short for Augustus?’
    ‘No. It's
short for Gustav.'
    'I see. Your
husband was foreign, perhaps?’ He hoped not or it could widen the extent of the
investigation considerably.
    ‘No. He is as
English as you or me. The name was just a fancy of his mother's.’
    Relieved,
Casey nodded and said, ‘If you'll wait here, I'll get that viewing arranged. I
won't be long.’ Casey left his office and made for the main CID office; he
didn't want to talk about her dead husband in her presence. Perhaps he was
being unduly sensitive, but he thought a degree of sensitivity was called for
in the circumstances, especially as she seemed to have no one to turn to, no
friends or family to support her.
    Catt was hovering
outside the door and he waylaid Casey as he came out. ‘So, what's the verdict?’
he asked. ‘Is our cadaver this woman's missing husband?’
    Casey nodded.
‘Seems so. Mrs Oliver brought a photo in and it's the dead spit of our John
Doe. Our guy's name is Gustav Oliver. Gus for short.’
    Catt raised
his eyes on hearing the dead man's first name and through pursed lips he asked,
‘Foreign, was he?’
    ‘Not according
to his widow. His mother just had outlandish taste in names.’
    ‘Good to get a
confirmed ID so quickly, anyway.’
    Casey nodded
again and headed for the nearest CID desk to ring the mortuary.
    The visit to
the mortuary was soon organized and they were shortly on their way. As well as
Catt, Casey had collected Shazia Khan, one of the station's female officers, to
accompany them and provide support for Mrs Oliver during her identification
ordeal. Dr Merriman had rung to tell them the post-mortem was scheduled for
that afternoon. For Mrs Oliver's sake, Casey was thankful she would view the
corpse before the post-mortem. Even though such viewings were arranged with as
much delicacy as possible, the PM would naturally leave its mark and many found
the ravages left behind on the body upsetting.
    The journey to
St Luke's, the local hospital, didn't take long. Neither did Mrs Oliver's
examination of the body. After staring intently for several long moments, she
confirmed the dead man's identity. She pulled a handkerchief from her coat
pocket and dabbed at her eyes before turning away for some much needed privacy.
After giving her several minutes in which to compose herself, Casey took her
arm and ushered her gently out of the viewing room. ‘I’ll take you home,’ he
told her.
    Once back in
the car, he said, ‘I’ll need to ask you some questions about Mr Oliver's movements,
but that can wait till tomorrow if you prefer.’ For himself, he would like to
find out as much as possible as soon as possible, but Oliver's widow was
entitled to some consideration. Even so, he was relieved when she declined his
offer.
    ‘I’d rather