Read Online The Funeral Owl by Jim Kelly - Free Book Online Page B

and Dryden spotted four plastic rat-traps on the lino, each edged into a shadowy corner. A TV crew had set up in one corner at the back, and there were two radio reporters with microphones in the second row. The front row was reserved for local people who had an interest in the local case, which would now come on after the Christ Church killing. They looked bemused at the media circus around them.
    DS Cherry was stout, in his early sixties, with skin like the surface of a week-old party balloon. He was a northerner, from Bolton, with an affected air of continuous good humour which had survived his tenure as coroner’s officer; a job designed to see him to retirement.
    â€˜Now then, Philip,’ he said, handing Dryden a printed sheet. ‘This one’s nasty.’ Dryden read a name and address on the sheet.
    Sima Shuba
    34B Erebus Street
    King’s Lynn
    â€˜This the victim?’
    â€˜Certainly is. Not a nice way to die, as you’re about to hear.’
    Dryden prayed that the coroner was not about to divulge too many of the details from the scene of the crime.
    â€˜Nice day out for you then,’ he said. ‘A bit of a change from Ely, plus a big fat expense claim?’
    â€˜You’ve got it,’ said Cherry, straightening his back. ‘It’s the glamour, the poolside parties, the paparazzi. That’s Brimstone Hill.’
    Outside they heard a vehicle come to an abrupt halt on the pub gravel, followed by dogs barking. The coroner had two lurchers and Dryden had seen him hunting with a shotgun on the water meadows at Ely. He had that outdoor complexion which seems to be a hallmark of public schools; as if the skin has just been scrubbed with a wire brush. In court he affected green tweeds. In private his persona was less of a cartoon; the country-squire manners a screen for extreme shyness. Dryden had once looked him up online. He was a member of the Royal Society, a medical doctor, with research interests in public health.
    Ryder breezed in, concentrating on his brown brogues, not the court. He didn’t once make eye contact with the public or the members of the press. The lurchers were on leads, their claws skittering on the boards. He sat at the bare table at the front and the dogs collapsed around his feet.
    Cherry called for the court to be upstanding. There was a cacophony of chairs grating, repeated as everyone settled back down.
    â€˜Thank you,’ said Ryder. ‘I will now formally open the inquest into the death of Sima Shuba, aged thirty-two, of Erebus Street, King’s Lynn. I can say Mr Shuba worked as a kitchen porter and that he was unmarried. The Foreign Office and UK Border Agency are examining his papers. I will adjourn the case itself while the police complete their inquiries. I do wish, however, to put on the record the results of an initial autopsy carried out last night at Wisbech. Mr Shuba died of a gunshot wound to the abdomen between one and five o’clock yesterday morning. The shot was fired at point-blank range. There would have been very little noise as a result. He was found at just after one thirty in the afternoon. His body was in the churchyard of Christ Church, here in Brimstone Hill. There are some indications that Mr Shuba died after a struggle. The immediate cause of death was loss of blood. Death took place at the scene. Mr Shuba’s family has been informed.’
    Ryder shuffled some papers and the TV crew made moves to dismantle their camera.
    Ryder tidied his papers into a neat pile. ‘Once these facts are known I would encourage anyone who knows anything which might help the police find the killer, or killers, of Sima Shuba, to contact them immediately. I have been asked to stress that any information offered will be treated in confidence.’
    The coroner smiled inappropriately. ‘Case adjourned. There will now be a brief pause in proceedings before we move on to today’s scheduled case. Thank