The Slowest Cut Read Free

frustrated that he hadn’t thought of it. “Yes. If they’d bought artificial tears and put them in regularly then she’d have been witness to her own death. I’ll test the corneas for chemicals.”
    Craig smiled at his friend, seeing that he was getting annoyed with himself. John would normally have anticipated all their questions and he’d have got there today, eventually, once his blood alcohol dropped. Craig could see him composing a lecture to Natalie inside his head, entitled ‘don’t lead me astray on a work night.’ She would ignore him as usual and Craig was glad. John was too work-focused, even more than he was at times. Natalie brought him back to the real world.
    “OK. So perhaps Eileen Carragher watched herself die, and perhaps she didn’t. Any idea what sort of knife did this?”
    John smiled, on steadier ground. “Razor sharp with a broad blade. Some of the sideways cuts sliced deep into the muscle. Hang on and I’ll call Des. He’ll have a book about it for sure.”
    Five minutes later the bearded figure of Dr Des Marsham, Head of Forensic Science, strolled through the door. He was carrying two thick, leather-bound volumes. Craig stood up to greet him.
    “Long time no see, Des. How are Annie and the baby?”
    “Not so much a baby now, more a holy terror. I swear to God that child rules us both with a rod of iron.”
    Liam felt his pain. Des’ son Rafferty was only four months older than his own boy, Rory, and he hadn’t had any sleep for months. “Did you ever wish that someone would invent boarding kennels for babies?”
    “Brilliant idea, but don’t say that in Annie’s hearing. She thinks the sun shines out of his nappies.”
    Liam nodded and rubbed his eyes, looking for sympathy. “Danni’s the same. The last time I had a decent night’s sleep was during that case in Portstewart last November.”
    Jake put an imaginary handkerchief to his eye and sniffed and Liam batted his hand away. Craig waved Des to his seat and took up position against the wall behind John.
    Des tapped the two books on his lap, then shot Craig a warning look. “Now, because you’re a mate I’m going to lend you these books, for Davy to check out the knife. But I want them back in mint condition. They’re original editions from the 1950s.” He stroked the leather lovingly and smiled at John. “Nothing they’ve produced since touches them, for the range and accuracy of the descriptions.”
    Liam interjected. “Aye, and that would all be dead interesting, Doc, if this was an episode of the Antiques Roadshow. What about the case?”
    Des punched Liam in the arm hard enough to make him jump. “You’re in our town now, Cullen. Show some respect.” He held out the books, pushing past Liam’s outstretched hand to give them to Craig.
    Craig nodded his thanks. “Davy will take good care of them. Any first opinions on the knife?”
    “Razor thin, broad blade and serrated edge. I’ve slipped a list of possibilities inside the front cover. If we get anything more on it, I’ll call you.”
    John rose to take them to the mortuary, and Jake ventured a question.
    “Have you ever seen this method of killing before, Dr Winter?”
    “Not here. But…”
    Craig cut in. “Where, John?”
    “I’m not certain, but I know that I’ve seen it somewhere. Outside Northern Ireland.” John thought hard for a moment then shook his head. “The problem is I’ve been a lot of places over the years, Marc. The U.S., Eastern Europe, China, Australia. It could have been in any one of them. I’ll have a think.”
    John was internationally respected in forensic pathology and he’d been asked to consult on hundreds of atrocities over the years, from war crimes to serial killers.
    “It’ll come back to me.”
    They descended the stairs to the ice-cold mortuary and John crossed to a steel table in the centre that held the familiar shape of a body. He pulled back the sheet and the sight that greeted them was even worse than