armed forces is a dangerous business.’
Angela didn’t seem convinced, but, as Richard pointed out, their job was to establish the physical facts and leave the morals and the law to others. They finished their drinks, and Richard hauled himself out of the chair, leaving Angela to wait for the start of a BBC Symphony Orchestra concert on the Third Programme.
She was keen on classical music, especially Mozart and Vivaldi – a little over the top for Richard, who was more a male-voice choir and light opera fan. He left her to her large Marconi radiogram, which stood next to a rack of records, and went to his office, where he wanted to look at the day’s mail before having a shower and going to bed.
However, he was seduced by a copy of the
SEVENTEEN
It was the following Tuesday before the usual routine of the Garth House partnership was disturbed. The coroner’s officer in Brecon phoned to say that a double inquest on the two deaths at Ty Croes Farm was to be held on Friday and that both Richard Pryor and Dr Bray would be required as witnesses.
‘Why on earth do they want me, I wonder?’ asked Angela. ‘Apart from collecting some material for the Cardiff lab, I had nothing really to do with it.’
‘It’s a day out in beautiful countryside,’ said Richard cheerily. ‘And there’ll be a fee – probably enough for a couple of cups of coffee, given it’s only a coroner’s court.’
For some time Sian had been dropping hints about wanting to visit a court of law, where she could see how her efforts in the laboratory were sometimes used. Angela suggested to Richard that the Brecon inquest might be a good introduction for her, as they were keen to encourage her enthusiasm for all things forensic. The young blonde was as pleased as if they had given her a salary rise – which they had not long ago, as it happened.
But before the great day arrived, more news came in about their other cases. A large registered envelope came from Stow-on-the-Wold, containing copies of the expert opinion written by Professor Zigmond and a copy of the sworn affidavit from Wolfgang Braun in Cologne. George Lovesey wanted Richard to make a careful check of the wording to make sure that there would be no hitches when they were presented in evidence.
‘No sign yet of the American opinions?’ asked Angela as he retreated to his office to go through the documents.
‘Should be here soon, if airmail performs as well as last time,’ he replied. ‘I expect George is biting his fingernails every time he looks at the calendar.’
An hour later, satisfied that every word, comma and full stop was acceptable, Richard rang the solicitor in Stow and reassured him that the affidavits seemed in perfect order.
‘You don’t have to disclose these to the prosecution in advance, then?’ he asked out of curiosity.
‘No, but once we offer them in evidence, they could ask the judge for an adjournment to discuss the spanner we’ve thrown in the works. They could even ask for time for their experts to investigate our new propositions.’
Richard heard him clear his throat over the telephone and suspected he was in for a legal lecture.
‘There’s been unease about these “surprise defences”, as they’re called, among the law lords and the legal pundits in Parliament,’ he explained. ‘I suspect that one of these days there’ll be a change in legal procedure to make advance notice of new evidence compulsory, but at the present time we can spring it on them.’
Lovesey confirmed that his leading counsel, the flamboyant Nathan Prideaux QC, had been kept abreast of Richard’s efforts and was happy with the way in which things were progressing. ‘He wants another conference before trial, but I haven’t got a date yet. I’ll be in touch with you again as soon as this material comes from the United States.’
After the call, Richard felt unsettled, as keeping track of several cases at once called for some mental agility. The murder-suicide near Brecon was now a straightforward clearing-up exercise, as there was no question of anyone being prosecuted, but the veterinary surgeon threatened with judicial execution, and the strange matter of the soldier shot through the head, seemed to be hanging over him like a cloud. To divert himself, he got up from his desk and wandered into the office and then through into the laboratory to take his mind off these problems.
‘What are you doing this morning, Sian?’ he asked as he stood behind his technician, who was seated before several rows of test tubes in racks.
‘This is new, doctor! Water analysis, not exactly forensic, but it’s all grist to the mill.’
Angela called across from her bench on the other side of the large room. ‘Jimmy got that work, bless him!’ she explained.
‘Some of his farmer friends up near Trelleck have had boreholes drilled on their land for a water supply and they want to make sure that they’re not going to poison themselves or their cattle. It’s mostly spot tests for dissolved metals.’
Sian swung round on her stool, a pipette in one hand.
‘Jimmy says that there may well be a number of other farmers wanting an analysis, if we can do it cheaper than the big labs elsewhere.’
Richard moved over to his partner’s section, where all the biological work was done. ‘More paternity tests?’ he asked.
‘No, it’s an insurance job,’ replied Angela, looking up from a microscope. ‘The owner of a fur shop in Bristol has claimed thousands for stolen mink coats, but their insurance investigator has sent in fibres from a suspect van belonging to the owner’s cousin.’
‘You’ve got to identify them, have you?’
She nodded. ‘They’re animal fur, right enough. I’ll have to try to narrow it down to mink, if I can find the right references. Anyway, the cousin said he used the van only for carrying carpets, so it’s obviously an insurance fraud.’
He squatted on a nearby stool, pleased to hear how they were diversifying their business.
‘It’s good to know we’re expanding into the civil side, not just coroners’ and police work. There must be lots of other problems out there that we can help with.’
Angela readily agreed. ‘And the other good thing is that we’re getting almost all our new cases by word of mouth – usually solicitors recommending us to one another. Nothing to beat the old boy network, is there?’
‘Perhaps you’d better join the Freemasons and the local Rotary Club, doctor!’ called Sian from her bench. ‘My dad says that’s where all the power lies these days.’
Richard grinned at Angela at the thought of getting business advice from a red-hot trade unionist like Evan Lloyd, then took himself back to his office to check the last batch of post-mortem reports which Moira had just typed.
Half an hour later his phone rang, switched through from Moira’s office next door. When a few months earlier Post Office Telephones had extended the single line to the phone in the hall, they had put a simple switching device in her office, so that she could divert a call to either the laboratory or to Richard’s room.
‘It’s the War Office!’ she hissed in a conspiratorial whisper before connecting the call.
‘Gordon Lane here, Dr Pryor.’ The voice of the Crown solicitor came across the ether. ‘We’ve made some progress, I’m glad to say. The first thing is that the bullet has arrived from Al Tallah. We’ve got it in a jar in the office here, safely wrapped in cotton wool.’
‘Good. I suggest you ask your ordnance experts in Woolwich to examine it, but I’d like to have a look at it first,’ said Richard. ‘What was the second thing?’
‘That’s the point of ringing, as we also have had consent from both the widow and the Home Office for an exhumation. I wanted to arrange a date with you.’
Richard Pryor was surprised at the speedy action, which normally could take weeks or even months. ‘That’s very quick work, Mr Lane! How did you manage that?’ he asked, perhaps impertinently. The lawyer sounded a little evasive.
‘There are ways and means within government, doctor. Anyway, the widow’s solicitor saw that they were not going to get any further with their claim if they refused – and the coroner for Northolt, where the body came in by air, said that it was none of his concern as he had declined to hold an inquest.’
