‘Just to let you know, ma’am – I thought you’d want to know – DI Randall’s just left. We don’t need to hold him. We know where he lives.’ That sounded sinister, almost a threat.
He’d hesitated, unsure how far to go. ‘According to his statement his wife was …’ another pause. ‘Upset.’
‘The post-mortem,’ he began again, having trouble finding the words. ‘Post-mortem,’ he repeated slowly, ‘… Doctor Sullivan. He’s waiting for results before he’ll commit himself.’ This last sentence came out in a rush.
Had he been there on the end of the line she would have questioned him sharply: What results?
After a noisy clearing of the throat he finished with, ‘Thank you, Mrs Gunn.’
After absorbing the message she rang him back. ‘Thank you for keeping me informed, Sergeant Talith. It must have been difficult for you, interviewing a colleague.’
‘Yes, but … I knew he couldn’t have done anything. He can’t have, surely?’ His very tone suggested that he was not sure.
She too wished she could be certain. ‘I take it you’ve let Mr Steadman know as he’s the coroner in charge?’ She realized as the words came out that she hadn’t quite erased a tacit criticism from the slight emphasis to the word. As though she wanted to distance herself.
Talith was quick to respond. ‘Yes, ma’am. Of course we have. He just wants to wait for a few other tests and the post-mortem results and then he’ll set a date for the inquest. He said it was almost certainly accidental and once he’s got the results back …’
Ah, yes – the results. She waited but Talith wasn’t sharing.
‘Once he’s got the results back he’ll be absolutely sure.’
‘Good.’ This was good news. But as she put the phone down she acknowledged it wasn’t – not really. The truth may not be quite as clear cut as the optimistic DS and her colleague from South Shropshire might imply – and probably wanted to believe. It was that one word that had alerted her – almost.
In the end curiosity got the better of her and she picked up the phone again, this time to connect with Mark Sullivan’s mobile. At least she had a bona fide reason for wanting to speak to the pathologist.
‘I understand the post-mortem on Alex’s wife has now taken place?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, suspecting nothing. ‘And I understand he’s been brought in for questioning.’
‘Yes. And released, I believe …’ But she worried now that she had shown her hand, defended him a little too quickly while knowing exactly what she was up to. Trying to influence outcomes. Strictly forbidden – if not downright illegal. It could cost her her job. Coroners are expected to be impartial. How do you do that, she challenged, when a friend and colleague is involved?
She couldn’t continue doing this, skipping across boundaries, in and out of a case. Getting involved was too risky and ultimately would not help Alex anyway. Mark Sullivan was far too intelligent a man and doctor not to know exactly what she was doing – and guess the reason why. And Steadman would not be bought or influenced, but …
Sullivan gave a long sigh. ‘I don’t really want to say anything, Martha, not until I’m sure.’
‘Was the PM conclusive?’ She just couldn’t stop fishing.
Sullivan chuckled. ‘When are they?’
She didn’t even try to answer this one. It would be skipping through a minefield.
‘But in this case I think I’ve a pretty good idea. It could answer questions. Just be patient and I’ll be in touch with Mr Steadman.’
It was a rebuke and she wriggled out.
‘Well,’ she continued briskly, ‘I didn’t really ring you about Mrs Randall anyway. I wondered if you’d had any further thoughts about the Gina Marconi case?’
‘Not really. I mean, my role was simply to connect her injuries with the impact. I don’t step outside the box, Martha, you know that. You’ve seen my full report?’
‘Yes. Yes.’
He paused but, if she had moved on, he hadn’t.
‘Do you want a full report on the results of the PM on Erica Randall?’
‘Umm. I don’t know, Mark.’ Lucky he was a friend. ‘I’m in a difficult position. That’s why I asked David to manage the case.’
‘I’ll give Jericho a call,’ he said gently. ‘Let him know. Is that OK?’
‘Yes. Thank you, Mark. I appreciate it.’
As she put the phone down she was already working through her own list of people who might be able to answer questions. Erica Randall aside, she could not rid herself of the feeling that there was a link between the two suicides she was dealing with. She might be able to deflect Gina’s death, even explain it, but she was aware that there was nothing to connect two such disparate people. They could not possibly have met. Different ages, different social class. Only the determination behind their final acts connected them. Was there something more? Something she was missing?