Gone Tomorrow Read Free Page B

you think Whalley’s lying? He’s nervous enough.’
    ‘In his position I’d be nervous, whether I was lying or not. When a corpse is found on your watch it doesn’t bode well even if you’re innocent. It’s possible he merely forgot to lock the gates, and doesn’t want to admit it in view of the consequences.’
    ‘Point.’
    ‘The other possibility is that he’s in on it in some way. But what “it” is, we can’t know until we can find out who deceased is.’
    ‘Well, I can’t see Whalley as a criminal conspirator,’ Atherton said. ‘He’s a pathetic little runt.’
    ‘I expect you’re right. It’s just the padlock and chain not being there that bothers me. Our corpse was too nattily dressed for climbing over gates. Especially gates with pointy bits on the top.’
    ‘You think he had an appointment in the park?’
    Slider shrugged. ‘Whatever he went there for, he went there. Alive or dead, he went through one of the gates or over it, and I can’t make myself believe in over.’

CHAPTER TWO
Opening the Male
    In the post-mortem room of the hospital’s pathology department, Freddie Cameron, the forensic pathologist, presented to the world an appearance as smooth as a racehorse’s ear. It was his response to the unpleasantness of much of his work to cultivate an outward perfection. His suiting was point-device, his linen immaculate; his waistcoat was a poem of nicely calculated audacity and his bow-tie
du jour
was crimson with an old gold spot.
    All this loveliness, of course, was concealed as soon as he put on the protective clothing, but still he was positively jaunty as he shaped up to the corpse.
    ‘Anything’s better than facing another pair of congested lungs, old bean,’ he said when Slider queried his pleasure. ‘I’m even beginning to eye my bath sponge askance. This flu epidemic seems to have gone on for ever. Good to see you back,’ he added to Atherton. ‘Good holiday? You’re looking very juvenile and jolly.’
    ‘Fully functioning on all circuits,’ Atherton admitted.
    ‘So, you’ve no ID on our friend here?’ Cameron asked.
    ‘Not so far,’ Slider said.
    ‘Well, I’ll take the fingerprints for you, and a blood sample. Chap looks a bit tasty, to my view.’
    ‘I agree. Everything about him suggests there’s a good chance he’ll feature somewhere in our hall of fame.’
    ‘Right. Well, as soon as my assistant arrives, we’ll begin. Ah, here she is. Sandra, this is my old friend Bill Slider. Sandra Whitty.’
    Slider shook hands. She was an attractive young woman, sensationally busted under her lab coat. Her lovely profile precededher into a little pool of held breath which had gathered round the table; broken a moment later as McLaren muttered fervently, ‘Blimey, she takes up a lot of room!’
    Why is it we’re all so childish about bosoms, Slider wondered. He wasn’t immune himself. Charlie Dimmock had a lot to answer for. He met Miss Whitty’s eye apologetically. ‘Excuse the reptile.’
    Fortunately, she only looked amused. ‘That’s all right, I keep pets myself.’
    She obviously knew what she was doing, and handled the body with an easy strength as she and Freddie removed the clothing and put it into the bags McLaren held out. There was nothing in any of the pockets to identify the deceased. One jacket pocket yielded cigarettes – Gitanes, a rather surprising choice – and a throwaway lighter. The other contained a quantity of change and a crumpled but clean handkerchief. The inside jacket pocket contained a fold of notes held with an elastic band. When McLaren unfolded and counted them, it came to over a thousand pounds, in fifties, twenties and tens.
    ‘Now there’s a thing you don’t see every day,’ Freddie said. He breathed in deeply. ‘Ah, money! I can almost smell the mint.’
    ‘Evidently robbery from the person was not a factor,’ Atherton said.
    ‘But there’s no wallet, driving licence, credit card, or any of the gubbins a man