Read Online Stop Dead by Leigh Russell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Leigh Russell
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direction of the injuries to the victim’s body.
‘What if he’d been found earlier? Could he have been bleeding to death for a while?’ Geraldine asked.
‘Placing the time of the attack earlier than the time of death, you mean? No, there’s no way he was going to survive those injuries for very long. He would have bled profusely over a short period of time, ten or maybe twenty minutes at the most.’
‘It had to be a jealous rival,’ Sam insisted. ‘Why else would anyone do something like that? Nothing else makes sense.’
‘It’s a vulnerable area,’ Geraldine said. ‘Is it possible the murderer wanted to be certain the victim was dead? I mean, I’d have thought that was a pretty good way of making sure.’
She addressed her question to the pathologist who shook his head.
‘It was certainly a frenzied attack,’ he agreed. ‘But as for the motive, that’s for you to discuss. Now, is there anything else I can tell you?’
‘We’re looking at a vicious murder all right,’ Geraldine said as the two detectives arrived back at her office.
‘Horrible,’ Sam agreed.
‘Murder most foul, is it?’ Nick asked with a smile.
Geraldine was surprised to hear him quote Shakespeare and picked him up on it.
‘You a Shakespeare boffin then?’
‘Huh?’
‘You quoted Hamlet just now.’
‘And you recognised it. Does that mean we’re both boffins?’ he replied and they both laughed.
Sam turned away and it occurred to Geraldine that Sam might resent her rapport with Nick. Geraldine turned to her.
‘Let’s go and get a coffee and mull over what we know.’
Sam’s face immediately brightened. Geraldine would need to handle her efficient young sergeant sensitively.
Sam was still convinced they were dealing with a crime of passion.
‘It makes sense, Geraldine. Henshaw is playing around with another woman, her husband finds out and – there you are. It explains the injury. Revenge by a jealous husband. I’ll bet he was having it off with Keith Apsley’s wife!’
‘Unless Henshaw’s wife was the one playing around,’ Geraldine said. ‘And had a jealous lover who wanted her husband out of the way.’
‘And Henshaw’s death leaves her a wealthy woman,’ Sam added, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘Maybe she put him up to it.’
‘They could have been in it together.’
Despite herself, Geraldine was catching the sergeant’s fervour.
Geraldine made a quick phone call and discovered Amy Henshaw had already been to the morgue to identify her husband’s body.
‘Damn,’ she said as she rang off. ‘I thought I might catch her there. Sometimes people let their guard down when they’ve seen the victim. She might’ve been more likely to talk. We’ll speak to her again soon. In the meantime, let’s see what else we can find out about the Henshaws, and if you discover one of them was having an affair, so much the better.’
CHAPTER 13
P etrie and Waterman’s door was sandwiched between a kitchen showroom and a beauty salon in Temple Fortune. Geraldine rang the bell and was buzzed in. A carpeted staircase led to the solicitors’ premises. She introduced herself to a receptionist who ushered her into a small, neatly furnished office where a distinguished-looking older man was seated behind a wooden desk.
‘A police inspector is here to see you.’
‘Oh?’
The solicitor raised his eyebrows and half rose to his feet.
‘Please take a seat. I’m Jonathon Waterman. How can I help you?’
He glanced at her warrant card as Geraldine sat down on a hard leather chair and introduced herself.
‘I’m enquiring about Patrick Henshaw’s will.’
The solicitor looked suitably solemn.
‘Patrick Henshaw? He was my client. So you’re investigating his death?’
Geraldine glanced around the office without responding. The room was at the back of the building, and strangely hushed after the London traffic to which she had grown accustomed. Horizontal white shutters at the window
‘What if he’d been found earlier? Could he have been bleeding to death for a while?’ Geraldine asked.
‘Placing the time of the attack earlier than the time of death, you mean? No, there’s no way he was going to survive those injuries for very long. He would have bled profusely over a short period of time, ten or maybe twenty minutes at the most.’
‘It had to be a jealous rival,’ Sam insisted. ‘Why else would anyone do something like that? Nothing else makes sense.’
‘It’s a vulnerable area,’ Geraldine said. ‘Is it possible the murderer wanted to be certain the victim was dead? I mean, I’d have thought that was a pretty good way of making sure.’
She addressed her question to the pathologist who shook his head.
‘It was certainly a frenzied attack,’ he agreed. ‘But as for the motive, that’s for you to discuss. Now, is there anything else I can tell you?’
‘We’re looking at a vicious murder all right,’ Geraldine said as the two detectives arrived back at her office.
‘Horrible,’ Sam agreed.
‘Murder most foul, is it?’ Nick asked with a smile.
Geraldine was surprised to hear him quote Shakespeare and picked him up on it.
‘You a Shakespeare boffin then?’
‘Huh?’
‘You quoted Hamlet just now.’
‘And you recognised it. Does that mean we’re both boffins?’ he replied and they both laughed.
Sam turned away and it occurred to Geraldine that Sam might resent her rapport with Nick. Geraldine turned to her.
‘Let’s go and get a coffee and mull over what we know.’
Sam’s face immediately brightened. Geraldine would need to handle her efficient young sergeant sensitively.
Sam was still convinced they were dealing with a crime of passion.
‘It makes sense, Geraldine. Henshaw is playing around with another woman, her husband finds out and – there you are. It explains the injury. Revenge by a jealous husband. I’ll bet he was having it off with Keith Apsley’s wife!’
‘Unless Henshaw’s wife was the one playing around,’ Geraldine said. ‘And had a jealous lover who wanted her husband out of the way.’
‘And Henshaw’s death leaves her a wealthy woman,’ Sam added, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘Maybe she put him up to it.’
‘They could have been in it together.’
Despite herself, Geraldine was catching the sergeant’s fervour.
Geraldine made a quick phone call and discovered Amy Henshaw had already been to the morgue to identify her husband’s body.
‘Damn,’ she said as she rang off. ‘I thought I might catch her there. Sometimes people let their guard down when they’ve seen the victim. She might’ve been more likely to talk. We’ll speak to her again soon. In the meantime, let’s see what else we can find out about the Henshaws, and if you discover one of them was having an affair, so much the better.’
CHAPTER 13
P etrie and Waterman’s door was sandwiched between a kitchen showroom and a beauty salon in Temple Fortune. Geraldine rang the bell and was buzzed in. A carpeted staircase led to the solicitors’ premises. She introduced herself to a receptionist who ushered her into a small, neatly furnished office where a distinguished-looking older man was seated behind a wooden desk.
‘A police inspector is here to see you.’
‘Oh?’
The solicitor raised his eyebrows and half rose to his feet.
‘Please take a seat. I’m Jonathon Waterman. How can I help you?’
He glanced at her warrant card as Geraldine sat down on a hard leather chair and introduced herself.
‘I’m enquiring about Patrick Henshaw’s will.’
The solicitor looked suitably solemn.
‘Patrick Henshaw? He was my client. So you’re investigating his death?’
Geraldine glanced around the office without responding. The room was at the back of the building, and strangely hushed after the London traffic to which she had grown accustomed. Horizontal white shutters at the window
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