Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2

by Various Authors

  His mouth twisted as he held her look. ‘And those signs would be?’

  Eloise sat silently fuming. Just like so many of the men in the force back home, he was deliberately trying to make her feel inadequate and uncertain. ‘You are certainly not what I was expecting,’ she said through tight lips.

  ‘And what exactly were you expecting, Dr Hayden from Australia?’ he asked. ‘A welcoming committee with a brass band and fanfare for your arrival?’

  This time Eloise didn’t bother disguising her anger. ‘No, but the very least I had hoped for was a chief inspector who had an open mind on the case, which clearly you do not. You seem intent on alienating me when hopefully all I will end up doing is to add credence to the results of your own investigation.’

  He leaned forward across the desk. ‘It seems to me all you are here for is a fast track to promotion,’ he ground out. ‘This is just the sort of case to do it, isn’t it? An Australian celebrity surfer who suddenly turns up dead on Penhally Bay beach.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘That could earn you some serious favours with the boss if you raise a whole lot of unsubstantiated allegations and suggest foul play.’

  ‘An alternative finding of possible murder or suicide will be decided on the basis of the results of the fresh autopsy I perform,’ she clipped out.

  He gave a little snort of derision. ‘He’d been in the water for hours. You’d have to be better than good to find anything on him that our guys didn’t find, diatoms and airway froth notwithstanding.’

  ‘It never hurts to have an independent review.’

  ‘It never hurts to respect the family either,’ he said. ‘But apparently you and your superiors have completely missed that angle on things.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Eloise said. ‘I’ve already told you it’s the family who want to know what really happened to their son and brother. Hugh Jenson, Ethan’s father, is an influential person in Australia. He has called in a lot of favours to pull off an uninvited external review of your findings. Surfers do drown, but not usually on calm beaches. The surf report that day noted a meagre one-metre swell, hardly the conditions for a very experienced surfer to drown in.’

  His brown gaze became steely. ‘Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about your review findings. You haven’t even examined the body and yet you’ve reached a conclusion.’

  ‘That’s not the case at all,’ she insisted. ‘I’m trained to keep an open mind, that’s imperative in my line of work.’

  ‘Are you, now? Exactly how long have you been a forensic pathologist?’ he asked.

  Eloise tried to stare him down but it took considerable effort on her part. ‘I trained in medicine and then took four years to qualify in general pathology. If you must know, I developed an interest in forensic pathology when I was asked to do histopathology for a string of murders that eventually led to the conviction of a serial killer. I am now employed by the Central Sydney Health Board where I’ve subspecialised in DNA profiling. Cases that had been cold for ten or more years are now being solved with the new technology. It’s meant justice has been served when the victims’ families had given up hope of ever finding out what happened.’

  ‘So you’re hoping to achieve the same thing for Ethan Jenson’s family?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, of course,’ she answered. ‘A review will give them more certainty about what happened to him.’

  His gaze bored like a very determined drill into hers. ‘What if your trip over here turns out to be a complete and very expensive waste of time?’

  Eloise pursed her mouth again. ‘I don’t see how a second opinion can be a waste of time, Chief Inspector D’Ancey,’ she said. ‘Or are you worried I might actually prove your local people wrong?’

  He held her challenging look. ‘Not at all, Dr Hayden,’ he said with one of his enigmatic half-smiles. ‘I would, however, like you to keep a relatively low profile while you are here. There are many people who have been upset by the death of Ethan Jenson. If you go at it like a bull at a gate, you will hinder any subsequent investigation. The locals will be less likely to co-operate if or when the time comes for our people to interview witnesses.’

  Eloise sat back, turning her head slightly to break from his intense gaze.

  ‘I understand from the report faxed to me that Mr Jenson was found at dawn by some local surfers,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, he was dead and had been for several hours,’ he answered. ‘You have a copy of the statements taken individually from the three young men.’

  ‘Where was Mr Jenson staying while he was in town?’

  ‘At one of the pubs—the Penhally Arms. It’s on Harbour Road. You would have passed it on your way here.’

  ‘I think I may have seen it,’ she said, recalling a blue and white building with colourful baskets of lobelia and petunias hanging outside.

  A small silence crept on tiptoe into the room. Eloise wondered if he was deliberately letting it stretch and stretch to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible. She sat up straighter in her chair and trained her eyes on his, although the distinctly audible sound of her stomach rumbling lost her some ground.

  Lachlan discreetly cleared his throat and, breaking his gaze, glanced at his watch. ‘Oh, is that the time?’ he said, and with a forced smile added, ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to bring our meeting to a close. Duty calls, as they say.’

  Eloise got to her feet, not sure if she was being fobbed off or let off the hook. ‘That’s fine. I have to go too. We’ve gone way past our scheduled half-hour. I want to introduce myself at the medical clinic.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ he asked, frowning slightly. ‘You’ll be based here.’

  ‘I realise that but your report indicated one of the local doctors…’ she glanced down at her notes to check the doctor’s name ‘…Nick Tremayne, was called to the scene. I have some questions about his examination of the body, that’s all. Where will I be working from here?’ Eloise asked glancing pointedly around the cramped office. ‘This seems a rather small station.’

  ‘It is,’ he answered, ‘but we’ve assigned you a small office out the back. If it proves inadequate, arrangements can be made for you to travel back and forth to the main station at Wadebridge.’

  ‘I’ll probably move between the two,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want to get under anyone’s feet.’ Or at least not yours, she thought.

  ‘I’ll show you the way to the clinic,’ he said, and came from behind his desk, hooking his jacket off the chair with one finger.

  ‘There’s really no need,’ she said. ‘I can find it myself. Mrs Trevallyn at the guest-house gave me a tourist map.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said holding the door open for her. ‘I’m heading that way myself.’

  Eloise moved past him in the doorway, this time not quite managing to keep from touching him. It was the briefest brush of her arm against his but it was enough to send a shock wave of reaction right through her body.

  Careful, she reminded herself sternly as she followed him outside. Mixing business and pleasure had never worked for her in the past and she had sworn after what had happened with Bill Canterbury that she’d never be tempted to do it again.

  And she hadn’t been, not even once.

  Until now…

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘THAT offer of a change of clothes is still on if you change your mind,’ Lachlan said as he led the way to the clinic. ‘There are a few shops locally but they probably won’t have much more than T-shirts, swimsuits and sarongs at this time of year.’

  Eloise bit her lip as she thought about how she was going to cope without her luggage. She needed a toothbrush and a change of underwear at the very least. She could probably spin another day out in her jeans but the vest top had to go.

  ‘I’m sure Poppy won’t mind,’ he added. ‘She’s got too many clothes as it is. I’m forever picking them up off the floor.’

  She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I wouldn’t like to put her out or anything. Pe
rhaps you should ask her first to see if it’s all right.’

  He suddenly frowned as he looked towards the clinic entrance. ‘Looks like you can ask her yourself,’ he said.

  Eloise followed the line of his gaze and saw a beautiful-looking girl with long blonde hair coming towards them. She was tanned and slim, her brown eyes made up with smoky eye-shadow and eyeliner making her look much older than sixteen. She had a rather serious look on her face, and in spite of the carefully applied eye-make up Eloise suspected she had been crying recently, but as soon as the girl saw her father her expression turned from serious to surly.

  ‘I thought you were working until seven tonight,’ she said, and then with a quick glance at Eloise turned back to her father, her mouth twisting sarcastically. ‘What’s going on? Are you arresting her or dating her?’

  Lachlan opened his mouth to reprimand his daughter but Eloise got in first. She gave the girl a polite but distinctly cool smile and introduced herself. ‘Hello, Poppy, I’m Eloise Hayden. I’m afraid I’ve come to ask a favour of you.’

  Poppy looked a little startled, making her look more like a small child instead of an in-your-face teenager. ‘You…you have?’ she croaked.

  ‘Dr Hayden’s luggage has gone missing,’ Lachlan explained before Eloise could get another word in. ‘I thought you might be able to tide her over for a couple of days with something out of your extensive wardrobe.’

  This time the young girl’s expression changed from frowning worry to a sneer. ‘I hardly think anything of mine will fit her,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘She’s much bigger than me.’

  Catty little girl, Eloise thought behind the screen of her deadpan expression, although she automatically sucked in her tummy and wished not for the first time that she hadn’t inherited her mother’s generous breasts.

  ‘She’s got a beautiful figure, just like you,’ Lachlan growled. ‘Now, stop being so appallingly rude to her.’

  You’re a fine one to talk, Eloise would have been tempted to say normally, but she was still reeling from his assessment of her figure as beautiful.

  Poppy’s lip curled. ‘So you are dating her, then, are you?’

  ‘Er…no,’ Eloise said quickly, hating it that she was blushing and that Lachlan was witnessing every agonising second of it. ‘I’m here on official business.’

  The worried frown came back. ‘Is it something to do with Ethan Jenson?’ Poppy asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Eloise said. ‘I’m a forensic pathologist from Australia, appointed to review the investigation into his death.’

  Poppy’s brown gaze flicked to her father’s. ‘I thought it was already sorted out—you know, that he drowned and no one else was responsible.’

  ‘Dr Hayden will no doubt come to the same conclusion,’ he said with a challenging little glint in his eyes as he looked at Eloise.

  Eloise gritted her teeth and turned back to his daughter. ‘Did you know him, Poppy?’ she asked.

  The girl’s eyes fell away from hers. ‘Not really,’ she mumbled. ‘I met him once or twice but that was ages ago.’

  ‘Ages ago when?’

  ‘Dr Hayden, this is neither the time nor place to conduct an interview with my daughter even if you were authorised to do so,’ Lachlan said firmly. ‘Come on, Poppy, we have an appointment, remember?’

  Poppy looked confused. ‘We do?’

  ‘Yes. You asked me to take you to Fiona’s place.’

  ‘But that’s tomor—’

  ‘We’ll leave some clothes for you at the guest-house,’ Lachlan said to Eloise as he ushered his daughter away with a firm hand at her elbow.

  Eloise stood watching them until they disappeared around the corner. Chief Inspector D’Ancey quite clearly didn’t want her talking even casually to his daughter about Ethan Jenson, which made her wonder if the girl had been lying about how well she had known the surfer.

  ‘Are you looking for somebody?’ a female voice said from behind her.

  Eloise turned to see an elegant-looking woman in her mid to late forties standing at the entrance to the medical clinic. ‘Oh, yes, sorry I was just coming in to introduce myself,’ she said. ‘I’m Eloise Hayden from Australia, I’m here to—’

  ‘We’ve been expecting you,’ the woman said with a warm smile. ‘I’m Kate Althorp, one of the midwives here. Come inside and I’ll introduce you to the practice manager, Hazel, and Sue, the head receptionist. Dr Tremayne is with a patient but he’ll be out shortly. I’m afraid the other doctors have either left for the day or are out on calls, but you will probably meet them over the next few days.’

  Eloise followed the woman inside the two-storey building, taking in with interest the comfortable-looking waiting room with a children’s play area in one corner and the neat reception area on the left.

  After exchanging greetings from the two women behind the reception desk, Kate looked up as a tall man with dark hair peppered with grey came out of the first room off the waiting area.

  ‘Ah here’s Dr Tremayne now,’ she said. ‘Nick, this is Eloise Hayden, the forensics specialist from Australia.’

  ‘How do you do?’ Nick said, offering Eloise his hand for the briefest of handshakes. ‘Welcome to Penhally Bay.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Eloise said. ‘I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Ethan Jenson. You were the one who examined him at the scene, I understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered somewhat brusquely.

  ‘Is now a convenient time, or can we make another time soon?’ Eloise asked. ‘It won’t take too long if you’ve got a minute or two available.’

  His brows moved closer together. ‘I am extremely pushed at the moment,’ he said. ‘I still have a house call to make.’

  ‘Mrs Griggs won’t mind waiting for you,’ Kate interjected. ‘She understands when you get caught up.’

  Nick Tremayne exchanged a quick glance with Kate before turning back to Eloise. ‘Come through to my room,’ he said. ‘But it will have to be quick.’

  Eloise followed him into his consulting room, sat in one of the two chairs available and quietly observed him. She couldn’t help noticing he seemed on edge and impatient as he took his seat.

  ‘Right, fire away,’ he said, folding his arms.

  ‘Was the body still in the water when you were called?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he answered. ‘The deceased had been dragged onto the beach by the three boys who had found him.’

  ‘So how long after he had been removed from the water did you see the body, Dr Tremayne?’

  ‘The body was found at six a.m. and I saw him around seven-thirty so it was about an hour and a half.’

  ‘Was the body covered by anything in that time?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘When I arrived a blanket had been placed over the body as there were quite a few people gathering on the beach at that time.’

  ‘Do you remember what type of blanket, what colour, what it was made of?’ Eloise asked.

  ‘Wool, I think…brown, if I remember correctly.’ His deep brown gaze narrowed slightly as it returned to hers. ‘Is there some query about my assessment of the body?’

  ‘No, there’s no specific query about your assessment at all,’ she said. ‘It’s just that there are some aspects of the case that are puzzling, and I’m just trying to clear them up. The Australian authorities have been invited to carry out an external review of the death. There’s no question of competence—more a fresh look to see if anything surfaces that might not have come to light so far.’

  Eloise waited a beat or two and when he didn’t respond, she continued, ‘So he’d been out of the water for one and a half hours before you saw him and you are quoted as saying at the time you thought he had drowned. Can you tell me what made you so sure that drowning was the actual cause of his death? Could he have died from another cause and been placed in the water later?’

  His brows moved together. ‘Murdered, you mean?’

  ‘It happens
in the quietest villages as well as the biggest cities, Dr Tremayne.’

  He held her direct look. ‘There were no other obvious causes for his death. He had no external marks of trauma. He was in the water and as far as I could see he had drowned. I believe the autopsy bore out my assessment.’

  ‘It did, yes. But, still, there are a couple of features I need to clarify.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Well, for one, I notice in your statement that the hands and feet were somewhat pinkish—that’s not quite consistent with the cyanosis you would expect after a drowning. Also, the deceased was a world-class swimmer and the ocean swell was relatively calm that morning. Why would someone who has faced some of the world’s most challenging waves drown on a calm beach?’

  ‘Surfers do occasionally drown,’ he pointed out. ‘They’re human, like everyone else. They’re not immune to freakish accidents.’

  ‘Yes, but if Ethan Jenson had met with an accident of some sort, one would expect to see some sign of it on his body—a head wound, for instance, if his surfboard had rendered him unconscious, but your report did not identify any such signs of injury or trauma.’

  ‘That is because there weren’t any,’ he stated with an air of impatience as he glanced at his watch. ‘The pathologist, Peter Middleton, didn’t find any either.’

  Eloise held her ground and continued, ‘I’m not actually all that happy with some of the tests done at the autopsy—some of them were not as complete as I would have liked, and there were a couple of tests I would like to have seen done which weren’t.’

  He frowned darkly. ‘Has another autopsy been authorised?’

  ‘Yes. His family, along with his sponsors, requested it via their lawyers. The coroner has been informed and I’ve been given the go-ahead.’

  ‘That’s going to delay getting this matter cleared up, isn’t it?’ he commented, still frowning slightly. ‘Still, you’re the forensic specialist, Dr Hayden. I wish you well in clearing up your doubts. But as far as I can ascertain, the victim looked as though he went to the beach for an early morning swim and for some reason got into difficulties and drowned. I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but that was my clinical assessment and that’s what the local pathologist decided was the case. Now, I really must be off. If I can be of further assistance, Hazel or Sue will make an appointment for you to see me.’