Mrs. Jeffries Stands Corrected Read Free Page B

didn’t see how the inspector having a look at the body would destroy anything. But he wasn’t one to question his superior’s motives. Barnes reached up and pulled off his helmet; he ran his fingers through his thick, iron-gray hair and sighed. “At least this one didn’t lay here all night. In this heat, he’d have been stinkin’ to high heaven by tomorrow morning.”
    Witherspoon’s stomach contracted at Constable Barnes’s colorful image. He was rather squeamish about such things and it was getting dreadfully difficult to hide the fact that dead bodies and blood and awful things like that made him feel light-headed. It wasn’t that he wasn’t dedicated to his work, he most certainly was, no one could ever accuse Gerald Witherspoon of neglecting his duty. He just wished that he wasn’t expected to stare at the corpses. Gracious, it wasn’t as if the knife in the fellow’s back was going to tell him anything. “Who discovered the body?”
    “The victim’s sister-in-law, Joanne Dapeers,” Barnes replied, popping his helmet back on his head. “Soon as she saw the body, she started screamin’ to high heaven. Luckily, the barman, when he saw what had happened, had the good sense to lock the door and then send for the constable.”
    “What’s the victim’s name?”
    “Haydon Dapeers. He owned the pub.”
    “Were there any witnesses?” Witherspoon didn’t know why he bothered to ask. He knew there wouldn’t be any. There never were witnesses in the cases to which he got assigned. Somehow, that didn’t seem to be fair.
    “I don’t think so, sir,” Barnes said.
    “But there’s a roomful of people out there.” Witherspoon gestured toward the public bar with his thumb. “Surely one of them saw something?”
    Barnes shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. Accordingto what Constable Maxton said, everyone was outside or at the window, watching a brawl that broke out on the street when the murder must have happened. That’s one of the reasons we got here so quickly. Maxton had come down to stop the fisticuffs. Of course, as soon as he’d arrived the brawlers took off. He’d just started back to his post when the barman comes dashing out and says that someone’s been murdered.”
    “Oh dear,” Witherspoon muttered. He took one last look at the corpse and sighed. This wasn’t going to be an easy case, he could feel it in his bones.
    From outside the closed door, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps and then a sharp knock. “That’s probably the police surgeon,” Witherspoon said.
    Barnes opened the door and a young red-haired man wearing a dark suit and carrying a medical bag stepped inside. “Good evening, Inspector Witherspoon,” the man said pleasantly.
    “Good evening,” the inspector replied. He stared at the man in confusion. “Where’s Dr. Potter?”
    “Gout,” the fellow replied. He stepped over and knelt down by the body. “Poor Dr. Potter’s got a ripping bad case of it; he’ll be flat on his back for weeks.”
    Witherspoon couldn’t believe his luck. Potter wasn’t his favorite of police surgeons. “Oh dear, how awful for Potter.”
    “I expect he’ll be fit as a fiddle before too long, Inspector.” He popped open his bag and began rummaging around inside. “Now, let’s see what we have here.”
    “Do I know you, sir?” Witherspoon asked. The man looked awfully familiar, but the inspector couldn’t quite put his finger on where they’d met.
    “We met some time ago at St. Thomas’s. The name’s Bosworth. Dr. Bosworth.”

    “This must be most upsetting for you, Mrs. Dapeers,” the inspector said kindly, “most upsetting, indeed. I’m so sorry to have to bother you with questions at a time like this, but it’s rather important we start looking for whoever did this foul deed immediately.”
    Moira Dapeers was obviously in shock. A small middle-aged woman, she had brown hair and a thin, rather mournful face. As she sat back against the bright red velvet