Angela put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

‘It’s not what you did, Sian, it’s what he did that matters,’ she said softly. ‘He killed her, then threw her into the sea as if he was getting rid of some inconvenient rubbish.’

The technician nodded. ‘I suppose I’ll get used to it, but I still think that this awful ritual of hanging is barbaric. The sooner it’s abolished, the better!’

Privately, Richard Pryor agreed with her.

EPILOGUE

Edward Lethbridge sat in his office above the building society in Lydney, drafting another will for a client who seemed to change his mind about every six months. There was a tap on his door and one of the secretaries from the next room put her head in.

‘There’s a gentleman to see you, Mr Lethbridge. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he said he won’t keep you more than a few minutes.’

The solicitor sighed and pushed his papers aside.

‘Very well, Mavis – show him in.’

A tall man entered, dressed rather foppishly in a velveteen jacket and a limp bow tie. He had wavy hair greying at the temples, framing a high forehead and a pointed jaw. Advancing to the desk, he thrust out a hand to Lethbridge.

‘Jolly good of you to see me at such short notice,’ he said with a slight lisp. ‘I’m Anthony Oldfield, I gather you’ve been looking for me.’

Lethbridge had seen and heard many strange things during his professional life and he rose to the occasion well.

‘Well, well, Mr Oldfield, this is a surprise.’

He motioned the visitor to the chair opposite. ‘You aunt has been searching the country for you.’

‘I realize that. I’ve been living in the Auvergne for a few years, a bit cut off from news, you know!’

He explained that a friend had sent him an old newspaper cutting with Trevor Mitchell’s advertisement for information concerning his whereabouts, giving the solicitor’s address for any reply.

‘I decided to pop over and let you know that I was still alive and kicking. Put the old lady out of her misery!’

‘But why did you just vanish like that?’ asked the lawyer, secretly astonished at the man’s nonchalance.

‘Couldn’t stand the old girl any longer!’ replied Anthony. ‘After giving up my flat, living in the same house with her was hell. The place was like a museum, couldn’t smoke my pipe indoors, didn’t like me drinking there, nag, nag, nag! So one day, I just decided to push off. Always liked France, so I stayed there.’

‘And never let her know where you were?’ asked Lethbridge.

‘Never got around to it. I was afraid she’d want to come over and stay and talk about my bloody will again. But when I saw that I was assumed to be dead, I guessed she was after probate, so thought I’d better come and straighten things out. I haven’t actually seen her yet, I came straight to you.’

They talked for a few more moments, then Anthony rose to leave.

‘Mustn’t keep you, I’ve imposed enough already.’

Before he reached the door, the solicitor had one more question.

‘Do you by any chance have a depressed sternum, Mr Oldfield?’ he asked with a mischievous look on his face.

Oldfield stared at Lethbridge in astonishment.

‘How on earth did you know that?’ he said.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

In regard to the use of diatoms, the reliability of which is still controversial, in the Yacht Christine case (R-v-Verrier, 1964), the body of a murdered man dropped off a yacht off the English coast was recovered many weeks later in Belgian waters. Forensic study of the diatoms established that they were of a type found only off the Kent coast and not on the opposite side of the Channel.

Bernard Knight

***
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