The Clifftop Murders (Dorset Crime Book 2) by Rachel McLean

Author:Rachel McLean [McLean, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ackroyd Publishing
Published: 2021-07-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lesley answered her phone. She pushed her hair back behind her ear; the wind was picking up from the sea now and buffeting it around her head.

“Dennis,” she said, “You’ve got news for me?”

“Just an update boss,” he replied. “Johnny’s here, I’ve sent him up to the flats at the top of the cliff. He’ll find out if we have any eyewitnesses or CCTV. I thought I’d go and interview Mrs Nevin, break the news to her. Somebody’s got to do it.”

Lesley pushed her hair back again, cursing the wind. “No, I’ll do that.”

“You seem busy at the crime scene.”

“It’s fine, Dennis.”

“Well, I’ll go and speak to the partners then. Cross and Short.”

She hesitated. It was probably best if she wasn’t involved in interviewing Elsa.

“OK,” she said, “But call me before you speak to them. I want to inform his wife first.”

“Will do, boss.” He hung up.

Lesley pocketed her phone and walked back towards Gail. Dennis had been odd on the phone. When she’d spoken to him before, he’d said nothing about disappearing to do interviews. He’d said he would look for CCTV and witnesses. But Johnny could handle that, and Uniform would be knocking on doors too.

“How are we doing?” she asked Gail.

“Pathologist’s finished for now,” Gail replied.

Sure enough, Whittaker was packing up his bag.

Lesley approached him. “You still think it was that gash on the back of his head?”

“I can’t see anything else,” he told her. “Obviously, there’s the post-mortem to do and then I’ll be able to confirm. I don’t like to commit myself before that.”

I bet you don’t, Lesley thought. “When will you be doing the PM?”

He shrugged. “Tomorrow, I imagine.”

“Surely today would be more appropriate?”

“I’m a busy man, Inspector.”

She jabbed a fingernail into her thigh. “We’ve got two related murders, that takes priority.”

“I can’t just move all of my other work to one side because you’re in a hurry.” He stood square to her, his gaze level.

“In that case, tell me what you can from your examination here. Any defensive wounds?”

“Nothing,” the pathologist said. “His hands are clear.”

“OK. See if you can get a shuffle on though, won’t you? I’m sure my bosses would be happy if you could do the post-mortem today.”

Whittaker raised an eyebrow. “I don’t answer to your bosses, DCI Clarke.”

She gritted her teeth. Henry Whittaker was a pain in the arse, but if she didn’t play nice he might delay even more.

“Just tell me when you’re doing it. I’ll send one of my guys along.”

“Of course.” He picked up his bag and walked away.

Lesley stood beside Gail, watching the pathologist striding towards the end of the beach.

“He does my head in,” Lesley said.

“I know what you mean,” Gail replied. “I’ve been working with him for years.”

“Looks like he was here since the dinosaurs.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him. He knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s slow,” Lesley told her. “He’s rude, he’s uncooperative and he’s arrogant. When I was in West Midlands, we had—”

Gail put a hand on her arm. “You’re not in Birmingham now, Lesley.

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