discussions with Dr Allen. People vanished without trace all the time. It was purely coincidental that this case had arrived on her desk when it had. Technically it could also have been handled by the Bristol coroner as Jamal was last seen in his jurisdiction. Jenny needn't take it at all . . . but yet she knew she had no choice.
The telephone rang in the empty outer office and was automatically diverted to the phone on her desk. She answered in her most businesslike voice. 'Severn Vale Coroner's office. Jenny Cooper speaking.'
'Good morning. Andrew Kerr. New pathologist at the Vale.' He sounded chatty and energetic. 'I've just had a look at this Jane Doe of yours. I think perhaps we ought to meet.'
Chapter 3
She was buzzed into the mortuary building by one of the monosyllabic assistants - a taciturn breed whom she'd only ever heard laughing from a distance and between themselves - and stepped carefully over the newly mopped reception floor, becoming aware of the sound of raised voices on the other side of the slap doors. She pushed through to find a muscular young man wearing surgical scrubs, who she took to be the new pathologist, doing his best to fend off a bellicose Scotsman. Dressed in a dark suit and coat, the visitor had a threatening tone and an aura of unpredictable menace which hit her like a minor shock wave as he jabbed his finger at the pathologist's chest.
'Listen, son - my client's wee girl has been gone six months and not a trace. The poor sod's lost every hair on his head. I wouldn't be surprised if he got the cancer if he doesn't find her soon.'
'You'll have to come back with the police. You can't walk in here and simply demand to see a body.'
'I'm his lawyer for Christ's sake, his legal agent. I know the education's all to cock these days, but they must've taught you what that means.' He pushed his unruly, sandy hair back from his forehead revealing once attractive features now lined and lived in.
The pathologist set his hands on his hips and stood his ground, showing off a thick pair of gym-pumped shoulders. 'All right, that's enough. I've told you how it is. You've got the detective's number - call him. I've got a job to do here.' He looked past the man to Jenny. 'Sorry, madam. How can I help you?'
Not about to back down, the angry Scotsman said, 'What in the hell difference does it make to you if I've got a copper holding my hand?'
Jenny stepped forward and addressed him. 'Jenny Cooper. Severn Vale District Coroner. The body's in my charge at the moment.' She had both men's full attention now. 'Dr Kerr?'
'Yes.'
She turned to the visitor. 'And you are?'
'Alec McAvoy. O'Donnagh & Drew.' He looked her up and down with startling blue eyes that belonged to a much younger face. 'Any chance of giving this young laddie a law lesson?'
Ignoring the remark, she said, 'Perhaps if you could tell me exactly who you're representing I might be able to help.'
'Client's name's Stewart Galbraith. My firm's represented the family since God was a boy. It was the police who told him about this body in the first place.'
'Which police?'
'Now you're being funny. You tried calling the cop station lately? If it's not Bangalore it's a fuckin' robot.'
Jenny saw Dr Kerr bristle, but she remained calm. Lawyers were paid to be awkward. Despite his bluster, the mischief in McAvoy's eyes told her there was no personal animosity intended.
'Have you got a business card?'
McAvoy grunted, fished in his coat pocket and came out with a card:
He saw that she'd noticed.
'There's a story behind that. I'll tell you sometime,' McAvoy said.
'Do you mind if I give your office a call?'
'Go ahead.'
She reached for her phone, then thought better of it. It felt petty to question his credentials. She knew the name of O'Donnagh & Drew from her days in practice. They were a long-established firm chiefly known for having cornered Bristol's market in major criminal litigation.
She turned to Dr Kerr. 'Would you mind if we have a quick look? It won't take a minute.'
'It's your body, Mrs Cooper. I'll be in my office.' He turned and walked swiftly across the corridor, pulling the door hard shut behind him.
'You're sure he's old enough to be doing this job?' McAvoy said. 'He's hardly out of short trousers.'
'Shall we get this done?'
She led the way to the refrigerator, passing half a dozen bodies parked on trolleys, aware of McAvoy's eyes on her as he followed. He was one of those men who didn't even try to pretend they weren't looking.
She took a latex glove from a dispenser screwed to the wall. 'Have you got a photograph of your client's daughter? It can sometimes be hard —’
'No need. I've known her from a baby.'
'What's her name?'
'Abigail.'
She opened the fridge door - a heavy hunk of metal eight feet by four - and pulled out the drawer. She observed McAvoy instinctively cross himself as she reached down to pull the plastic back from the face. They both started at the sight that met them: the face staring up with empty eye sockets.
'Dear God,' McAvoy whispered.
Jenny flinched and looked away. 'Sorry about that. She did have glass ones. Someone must have removed them.'
He leaned down for a closer examination. With her peripheral vision Jenny watched him examining every detail of the face, then tug back the plastic a little further to reveal the top portion of the torso.
'No. It's not Abigail,' he said, straightening up. 'She'd a dimple in her chin and a wee birthmark on the side of her neck. Thanks anyway.'
Jenny nodded, hesitating to look down again and cover the face.
'Let me,' McAvoy said, and pulled the sheet across before she could reach out a hand. 'Nothing but dust once the soul's departed - that's what you've got to tell yourself.' He pushed the drawer back into the cabinet. 'Another torment the godless majority have to live with - thinking flesh and blood are all there is.' He pulled the fridge door shut and glanced at the bodies lined up on trolleys along the corridor. 'Leave an unbeliever down here for the night, he'd soon be crying out for his Maker.' He flashed her a wicked smile. 'I've not seen you before, have I?'
'No.' She pulled off the glove and dropped it in the bin.
'New?'
'Relatively.'
'Some job for a woman.' He studied her for a moment then nodded, as if having satisfied his curiosity. 'Yes, I can see it now.' His smile became kinder: a window to a gentler side of him, perhaps. 'Oh well, don't spend too much time with these fellas. See you around.' He turned and walked away, tossing his hair away from his eyes, hands pushed deep into his coat pockets.
She stood and watched him until he'd gone, half-expecting him to steal something on the way out.
Jenny entered Dr Kerr's office to find him busy at his computer, his scrubs replaced with a T-shirt that hugged his pecs. She guessed he was thirty or so and still single, with plenty of time to spend on himself.
'Have we got rid of him yet?' he said, firing off an email.
'Yes. She wasn't the one he was looking for.'
Dr Kerr swivelled on his chair to face her. She noticed he'd rearranged the furniture, and replaced the shelving and carpet. The row of textbooks on the shelf behind his desk looked new and unthumbed; next to them were a number of
