‘But Doctor,’ said Jago, ‘surely the fact that she’s got a stocking tied round her neck doesn’t necessarily mean that’s what killed her.’
Anderson laughed. ‘Good point, Inspector. We should get you to train our forensic pathologists. You’re absolutely right – I’ll need to make a closer examination before I can be as categorical as I sounded.’
‘There’s something odd about it too,’ said Jago. ‘It looks much thinner and finer than any stocking I’ve ever seen – not that I’ve made a study of such things, of course.’
‘I think it must be one of those new ones, sir,’ said Cradock. ‘I’ve read about them.’
‘There you have the advantage of me, Peter. I don’t make a habit of reading the women’s page in the newspaper.’
‘Neither do I, sir. I just happened to hear about this new thing they’ve invented in America – they call it nylon.’
‘And they make stockings out of it? I’ve heard of nylon toothbrushes, but not stockings.’
‘That’s probably because they’re only made in America – you can’t get them here, as far as I know. I’ve never seen one either, so I’m just guessing.’
‘Well,’ said Jago to Anderson, ‘I’ll need to take that stocking. I’ve never come across one like it, so I’d like to get an expert to identify it.’
‘Can you wait until I’ve finished the post-mortem examination?’
‘Of course. Is there anything else you can tell us at this stage?’
‘No. I’ll just clear up now and get her taken to the mortuary. I’ll do the post-mortem immediately, so if you’d like to stroll up to the hospital at about six this morning I should be finished.’
‘Very well, I’ll see you then. Come along, Peter, let’s find out where that fireman’s got to with our cups of tea.’
They left the pathologist to complete his work and headed away towards the High Street. As soon as they were out of earshot Jago thought he heard Cradock make a strange noise like a suppressed chuckle, which then turned into a rather unconvincing cough.
‘You all right, Peter?’
‘Yes, sir, I’m fine. I was just wondering, though – who’s that expert you want to show the stocking to?’
‘The only person I can think of who probably knows enough about ladies’ hosiery to identify an American nylon stocking,’ said Jago.
‘Ah, yes, sir, I see,’ said Cradock in a knowing way. He said no more, turning his head slightly aside lest Jago should see his amused grin.
CHAPTER THREE
When they got to the bottom of Carpenters Road Cradock spotted Evans: he was holding a mug of tea in his right hand and two more in his left, and appeared to be deep in conversation with a small group of men in AFS uniforms. On seeing them approaching, the fireman bade a quick farewell to his friends and hurried over to them.
‘Sorry, Inspector,’ he said. ‘You must’ve wondered what’d happened to me. I was discussing the night’s fires with my colleagues, you see.’
Jago thought it was just as likely he’d been discussing the rugby results, but he let it pass. He took one of the mugs of tea that Evans was offering and sipped: it was little more than lukewarm, but he drank it. Cradock did the same.
‘Now then, Mr Evans,’ said Jago. ‘I want you to take us into the flat and show us exactly where you found that unfortunate young lady’s body.’
Evans led them round to the back of the house.
‘That gate’s still locked,’ he said, ‘so you’ll have to climb over, like we did.’
Jago and Cradock followed him over the wall and to the back door.
‘Wait a moment,’ said Jago. ‘I want to have a look at this.’
He shone his flashlight on the door and could see it was as flimsy as most of them on these cheap old houses. He gave it a push, and it swung open. Stepping inside, he saw on the back of the door a small deadlock: the key was still in it, and the bolt was protruding. The wooden door frame was splintered where Evans said he had forced it.
They moved through the scullery and into the kitchen, which was in darkness.
‘Where was the light showing?’ Jago asked Evans.
‘Here, in the kitchen. The blackout curtains were open, so the warden drew them.’
‘I see.’ Jago switched on the light. ‘And you found the body in the bedroom, right?’
‘That’s it, yes. Follow me.’
He led them towards the front of the house, where Jago quickly verified that the lock on the front door was a Yale. The door was closed and locked to bar intruders, but the latch was positioned to allow anyone to open it from the inside and close it behind them.
The door to the bedroom was open, and Evans showed them in.
‘She was here,’ he said. ‘On the floor, like, lying on her side, but awkward. Terrible shock, it was.’
‘I’m sure,’ said Jago. ‘Now, tell me, did you touch anything or move anything?’
‘No, nothing, apart from getting the poor woman out.’
‘Right. Well, thank you, Mr Evans, you’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry we’ve kept you from your duties. Please give your name and address to Detective Constable Cradock here before you go – we may need to ask you a few more questions. When might we find you at home?’
Evans gave a hearty laugh. ‘That’s a good question. I’ve been on duty now for about eleven hours, but with a bit of luck I should be finished in another four or five. Try me this afternoon. If all goes well I might have grabbed a bit of sleep by then.’
‘And I hope you won’t mind letting us take your fingerprints.’
The laughter went out of the fireman’s voice. ‘Fingerprints? What? You don’t think I—’
‘It’s just so we can eliminate you from our enquiries. We can expect to find your fingerprints on the back door, and those of the lady you found here, so if we know they’re yours we can concentrate on any we don’t know.’
‘Well, if I must. I can’t say I like the idea, but
