Free White Lilies by RC Bridgestock

observation office area for this one, so we don’t have to suffer the smell,’ said Dylan.
    ‘Thank you,’ Taylor said, smiling briefly before looking heavenward with a sharp intake of breath. There was a God after all.
    ‘Lucky you.’ Jasmine drawled as she wiped her greasy hands on a napkin, put the remainder of her sandwich on a plate and picked up her camera to check its settings.
    ‘Well at least the pathologist will be a laugh Jasmine, it’s Professor Stow,’ said Dylan.
    Taylor closed her eyes briefly. ‘Oh, joy…’ she mumbled.
    Dylan passed her a cup of tea and she reached out for it.
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘You took my advice,’ he said nodding at her sensible black pumps that had the smallest pointed heel.’ She smiled, sarcastically. ‘That’s a nasty mark,’ he said, pointing to her blouse. ‘You been in a scrap?’
    ‘Blood from this morning,’ she said, standing up to show him the full extent of the damage to her clothing before she went on to explain the eventful morning she’d had.
    ‘So who do you think’s telling the truth?’ Dylan asked.
    Taylor shrugged her shoulders and tentatively took a sip of her drink. Looking down into her polystyrene cup, she noticed the blood and dirt that still clung to her fingernails. She grimaced and walked over to the sink to scrub her hands.
    ‘Decisions Taylor, the jobs all about the consequences of the decisions you make,’ Dylan said, beaming. ‘And when you’re a boss remember they’re always the right ones ’coz there ain’t no one above you to tell you you’re wrong. Any luck in locating the hit and run vehicle yet?’
    ‘No, and believe it or not, either one of the men could be involved yet too.’
    Dylan raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Both Donald Harvey and Brian Stevenson have recent damage to their cars by their own admission. I need the accident investigation branch to let me know that they are a hundred and ten per cent positive of the make of the car that we’re looking for before I take it further.’
    The door dramatically swung open and in walked the robust figure of Professor Stow.
    ‘Good afternoon everyone. Cheer up,’ Professor Stow trumpeted with a theatrical wave of his chubby hand in front of their solemn faces. ‘Anyone would think someone has … Ooops, they have,’ he roared. ‘Back in five minutes,’ he said, talking very fast. His big fat red cheeks wobbled as he laughed. ‘The old ones are always the best,’ he chuckled as he took his coveralls from the peg. ‘Got to smile once in a while’ he continued, struggling to tie the green disposal plastic apron around his cumbersome frame.   
    ‘Well Dylan what have you got for me today?’ he panted. ‘Hello there Jasmine, Taylor isn’t it?’ he said, not waiting for either to answer before enthusiastically pulling plastic gloves out of a Kleenex style tissue box and shaking off the excess talcum powder. He commenced to blow them up like a balloon.
    ‘Yes,’ said Taylor bemused. She cringed as he slowly let the air out of the glove and it made a farting sound. He chuckled, shook each glove and fought to get them onto his huge hands. This accomplished, he rubbed his hands together and grinned, showing off crooked, yellow teeth.
    ‘Thought so, never forget a good body,’ he chortled eyeing her up and down. Her face was a picture. Dylan and Jasmine smiled knowingly at each other.
    ‘Only joking,’ he said looking seriously over his half rimmed glasses at her, ‘so what have we got?’ he said, turning to Dylan. Professor Stow’s face mask hung round his neck waiting to be strung behind his ears as he entered the mortuary. He stood with hands on his hips as Dylan outlined in detail the discovery of Mildred Sykes’ badly decomposed body.
    ‘A bit of a rotter then?’ quipped Professor Stow as he launched at the mortuary door elbows first to keep his gloves sterile. Jasmine managed to carry her equipment into the room behind him before the doors swung