Game Over Read Free

opportunist amateur to have found the precise spot on the skull where a single blow would kill. And if it was professional, what was he after? A stolen-to-order painting or other artefact? Or was it something like bonds or valuable documents? ‘Do we know if he had a safe?’ he asked.
    By the time Slider had inspected the rest of the building, to get the lay of the land and to look for access, exits, security cameras etc, the doctor had arrived and was on his knees beside the body. It was not Wasim, however, but his old friend Freddie Cameron, the original Dapper Doctor. Cameron was the forensic pathologist, but was not averse to a bit of police surgeon work, especially when it was a case that was going to come to him anyway. He liked to see the body in situ and to get to it before anyone else fouled the pitch.
    ‘Ah,’ he said, looking up with satisfaction as Slider appeared in the doorway, ‘the old firm, back at the usual stand.’
    ‘Hello, Freddie. How’s tricks?’
    ‘All serene, old boy. How’s Joanna? Are you a father yet?’
    ‘No, seven weeks to go yet. And she’s fine, or as fine as you can be in those circumstances.’ It seemed odd to Slider to be discussing cheerful life in this place of death, with Stonax still lying where he had fallen, still dead. ‘She says it’s like being a ventriloquist’s dummy, only you’ve got the whole ventriloquist inside, not just his hand.’
    ‘I’m still waiting to be invited to the wedding,’ Freddie said sternly. ‘I hope you’re not going to be adding to the statistics.’
    ‘I’ve been trying to get married,’ Slider said, wounded. ‘Arranging a wedding between a policeman and a musician is like trying to push a balloon into a milk bottle.’
    ‘Well, stop trying to arrange it and just do it,’ Freddie suggested helpfully. ‘You know who this is, don’t you?’
    ‘Ed Stonax, the TV bloke.’
    ‘Bingo. Strange how different a body looks when you’ve seen it on the telly in life.’
    ‘I was thinking the same thing. Anything to tell me? I assume it was the blow that killed him?’
    ‘It certainly looks that way. The bones of the skull are crushed here. It was a very violent blow, with something small but heavy, and rounded in profile, like a nice old-fashioned lead cosh. With a good right arm behind it, it could have been something small enough to conceal in a pocket.’
    ‘And given that it’s to the left temple, it looks like a right-handed blow?’
    ‘Unless the murderer’s a tennis ace,’ said Freddie. ‘Possible, but unlikely. Professionals don’t generally swipe their victims backhand.’
    ‘You think it’s professional, then?’
    ‘Either that, or a lucky guess.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve bagged the hands, but I don’t think they’ll yield anything. There’s no sign of a struggle or any defensive wounds. Eyes open. I think he was taken by surprise and felled before he even knew it was coming. The why of it, I leave to you.’
    ‘Time of death?’ Slider asked.
    Freddie glanced automatically at his watch. ‘I’d say it was four to six hours, so that would put it between five and seven this morning.’
    Slider’s eyebrows went up. ‘This morning? We were assuming it was last night. He’s fully dressed, as if he came home from work and it happened then.’
    ‘Well, these times are not precise as you very well know, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that long ago. He must have been on his way to work,’ said Freddie.
    ‘You’re just giving me problems,’ Slider said. ‘Burglars, as a race, are not early risers.’
    ‘There’s always the exception,’ said Freddie. He looked at Bob Bailey. ‘Right, if it’s OK with you, I’ll take him away.’
    ‘Yes, OK. We’ve got everything,’ said Bailey.
    Freddie’s assistants laid the bag down and with trained knack lifted the body easily, despite its size, across and on to it. Something moved on the carpet.
    ‘What’s that?’ said Slider.
    Bailey picked it up and held