Foul Trade
Page 37
There was no point in her even trying to say anything, she knew the tears would stream the minute she opened her mouth. She was saved from the silence stretching into insurmountable embarrassment by a knock on the door.
‘Come in.’
May turned to see PC Collier. He gave her one of his sketchy half-salutes.
‘Sorry to interrupt, sir, but there’s a body been found in the old glue factory off Brunswick Road. I did a little asking around and they reckon she’d been living rough there. Dr Swan’s looking at her now but he told me to tell you that he wants you to see her before she’s wrapped up and carted off... sorry, sir... brought to the mortuary.’
Braxton Clarke stood up. ‘No rest for the wicked, eh? I’m sorry that we weren’t able to finish our discussion, May, but maybe we can pick it up later.’
She’d got the impression there wasn’t much left to say.
‘There’s one thing I have to ask now before I head off with the good constable here: would you mind continuing as clerk for the time being until you can train somebody up?’
So this was it. Out of both jobs. She nodded.
‘Splendid. Get your notebook then.’ He plucked his coat and hat from the stand. ‘And Constable Collier...’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘I’ve spoken to your station commander and he’s agreed to release you to work more closely with my team here from now on. You can start by preparing a brief for my officer on the practice of evidence gathering according to A Constable’s Guide to his Daily Work. She could do with a few pointers.’
May looked at him as he stretched out his hand.
‘A new start, Miss Keaps?’
She bit her quivering lip, smiled, and pressed her palm to his.
‘A new start, Coroner Clarke. And I won’t let you down.’
About the Author
Born on a steam railway and brought up on the South Coast of England, such beginnings were destined to leave BK Duncan with a love of vintage transport, crashing seas, and Art Deco architecture.
Following a career encompassing developmental learning and management consultancy, specialising in personal and organisational change, she made the switch to full time writer, combining producing her own work with lecturing in creative writing in colleges and academies in Hertfordshire and Cambridge. Her summers are spent on two never-ending tasks - re-pointing the walls of her flint cottage and reclaiming the wilderness of her meadow garden. For relaxation she reads, goes to the theatre, and explores the local countryside but her two great passions are longbow archery and the Argentine Tango. Sadly, she is not nearly as accomplished at either as she’d like. Her proudest moment was when she overcame her fear of deep water to go potholing in the Yorkshire Pennines.
To find out more about BK Duncan,
go to www.bkduncan.com