‘Ben, do you think he’s been here? Our mystery caller?’
‘Someone certainly has.’
‘Well, it’ll have to wait. Everything’s set up for the execution of a search warrant at Hudson and Slack.’
‘When are we going to do it?’
‘The DI’s putting things together right now.’
‘This afternoon?’ said Cooper.
‘As soon as we can get there.’
A few minutes later, Casey dropped them off on the gravel
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in front of the house. He didn’t look sorry to be seeing the back of them.
‘If you want to find out any more about Alder Hall and the Saxtons, you ought to ask Fair Flora herself,’ he said.
Cooper frowned. ‘We’ve just seen her, sir. But I’m not sure that talking to her would do much good.’
The property agent laughed. ‘I didn’t mean the statue.’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘No, of course not. I meant the real person.’
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22
Melvyn Hudson glared at Diane Fry with barely restrained fury. For a funeral director, he had quite a temper below that dignified exterior.
‘I have no idea what all this nonsense is about,’ he said. ‘But you can’t hold up our work. We have a funeral to do in ten minutes’ time.’
‘Everything you need to know is on the search warrant, sir,’ said Fry coolly. ‘And we have no intention of interrupting your business for a moment. Please carry on as normal. Our people will try to cause the minimum of disruption.’
‘Minimum of disruption? With police crawling all over our premises? How do you think this looks to our clients? There’s a family coming here this afternoon to bury their loved one.’
‘Let’s hope so, sir,’ said Fry.
‘What do you mean by that?’
Hudson was starting to get very loud. Fry looked at the team assembling outside the doors.
‘If you’ll show these officers where records of your funerals are kept, we’ll get on with the job as discreetly as we can,’ she said. ‘The sooner we get started, the quicker we’ll be finished. And then we can get out of your way, sir.’
‘It’s an outrage,’ said Hudson, starting to go red around
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the ears. ‘Damn it, it’s an outrage. This is not the sort of scene a bereaved family expect to see when they deal with Hudson and Slack.’
Fry knew that various members of staff would be able to hear their conversation. They were standing in the middle of the general admin office, and doors were open nearby. She could see what looked like a staff room to one side, with a table, kitchen chairs and a sink unit. Behind the office, she glimpsed a filing room with a row of metal and wooden cabinets. ‘With respect, sir,’ she said, ‘the only person causing a scene at the moment is you. I suggest that might not be what a bereaved family expect to see from their funeral director.’
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘But I insist on being here while you’re doing whatever you need to do.’
‘That’s your privilege, sir. But what about your funeral?’
‘My wife’s in the chapel. I’ll ask her to conduct it.’
‘Fine.’
Fry looked round and saw a woman watching from a doorway. She was dressed in a smart black suit, a sort of female equivalent to Hudson, though her hair was dark and tied neatly back. Barbara Hudson, presumably. Her expression wasn’t too friendly. Instead of facing her, Fry turned towards the workshop. There were all kinds of smells coming from these back rooms that hadn’t penetrated the public areas. She wondered how they achieved that. She might like to use the technique in her flat, to keep out the whiff of the students.
‘Does your warrant extend to the workshop, Sergeant?’ said Hudson behind her shoulder.
‘Do you mind me looking around, sir?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
‘Surely you’ve nothing to hide?’
‘Of course not.’
‘What’s at the end of the corridor?’
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‘The preparation room.’
‘And what do you do in there?’
‘We perform miracles, that’s what we do,’ said Hudson. ‘People have no idea what goes on in the preparation room. And they don’t want to know.’
‘But I’m asking, Mr Hudson,’ said Fry politely. And she was being polite, too, as far as she could manage. ‘Could we take a look?’
‘I’m sorry, but there’s a case on the premises at the moment.’
‘There’s a what?’
