‘Perhaps you could try the British Council or even the US Embassy in London. Someone must have the phone details of these institutions. There’s an international directory of universities, so try one of the college libraries.’
As she was leaving the room, full of enthusiasm for this novel task, he called after her. ‘Moira, make sure you ask the operator for the cost of each call – otherwise we’ll be bankrupt before I can claim it back from the lawyers!’
Moira spent almost an hour on the telephone, cajoling various librarians and consular staff into giving her contact numbers for the three institutions where the overseas researchers were situated. She returned in triumph to wave the list at Richard and receive his sincere praise for her efforts.
‘It’s that seductive voice of yours, Moira – who could resist it!’ he said, success making him a little flirtatious. She flushed, but looked even more pleased with herself. ‘Now I’ve got more work for you! See if you can track down these chaps at those places, so that I can have a few words with them.’
Moira looked at her little wristwatch. ‘It’s gone four o’clock here. That means that office people in Denmark will probably have gone home, given the hour’s time difference.’
‘Right, let’s try first thing in the morning. What about America?’
Moira did some calculations in her head. ‘The middle part of the USA must be about eight hours behind us, so it’s only about seven in the morning there.’
She made for the door with a purposeful air. ‘I’ll get on with making something for your and Dr Bray’s supper, then I’ll start phoning at about five o’clock. I don’t mind staying on for as long as it takes.’
Moira eventually went home at about eight, after serving a mixed grill to ‘her two doctors’, as she had come to think of Richard and Angela. As they sat at the kitchen table, enjoying an unusually lavish dinner for their evening meal, Richard told his partner of his transatlantic conversations.
‘Got both of them, thanks to Moira. She was like a terrier with a rat – wouldn’t take no for an answer until she got hold of the right people.’
‘And did you get anything useful?’
‘Yes, both had been working on this potassium in the eye fluid idea since they heard Wolfgang Braun speak at that conference in Brussels.’
‘They must have been there like us, among the hundreds who attended,’ said Angela rather pensively. It was that congress that changed her life, as meeting Richard there had brought her down to Wales from London.
‘Well, like Braun, they’ve collected a lot of raw data but not published it yet, though Gerald Stoddart in Chicago has a draft ready to send off to a journal. He’s going send a copy to us by express mail today. It should get here within a few days.’
‘What about the chap in Minnesota?’ she asked.
‘That’s Donald Kaufmann. He’s been doing the eye as part of a much wider study of body fluids, but the general trend is the same in the vitreous as Stoddart and Braun.’
‘Are their results the same?’
Richard shrugged. ‘Not numerically, though perhaps their methods are different. But the general thrust is similar, which is all that I need. They’re working towards solving a specific problem, but we only want to show that the previously accepted assumptions have been wrong.’
They discussed this until their plates were empty and they had gone on to tackle the apple tart that Moira had left for them.
Forgoing tea or coffee for a celebratory gin and tonic in Angela’s sitting room, she asked what would be the next move.
‘I’ve got to get the solicitor to contact these two men tomorrow and get them to agree to make a sworn deposition, just like Braun.’
‘Will they come in time for the trial?’
‘I know the gist of what they will say and can write that into my advice to the lawyers. The Americans can send their statements by telegram or teleprinter, so that we’ll know what they’re going to say. Then if the actual signed documents are sent by express airmail, they should arrive in time for production in court.’
‘It all sounds one hell of a rush, but it seems the only chance this vet has of avoiding conviction. Anything else you have to do for him?’
Richard nodded. ‘Find an eminent physiologist to confirm the other branch of our defence. That should be easier and a lot nearer than these foreign parts!’
He sat back contentedly after topping up their glasses. Angela was in her favourite place on the settee, having kicked off her shoes and drawn up her legs elegantly on to the cushions.
‘That was a good meal tonight – beats our usual cold ham and salad. I don’t know what we’d do without Moira to look after us,’ he said.
Angela looked across at him with a slight smile on her face. ‘You seem to be getting quite attached to the peerless Moira, Richard! I’m beginning to think that you have designs on her.’
She spoke lightly, but he thought he detected a touch of irony in her voice.
‘Nonsense, she’s years younger than me,’ he protested. ‘And still grieving for her husband. It’s obvious how fond she was of him.’
‘We all have to move on, Richard. You after your divorce, me after that swine jilted me – and Moira will have to do the same.’
She stopped and waved her glass at him. ‘Though, in fact, I think she already is moving on. She’s got her eye on you, my lad!’
Richard scoffed at her claim but was secretly intrigued by the idea. ‘Go on, Angela! You’ll be saying next that Siân has got designs on me!’
‘No, I wouldn’t go that far. I think she hero-worships you a bit, but you’re old enough to be her father – just about!’
He gave her one of his wry grins, finished his drink and stood up. ‘I think I’d better go before we get any sillier! A busy day again tomorrow, with these army lawyers coming to see us.’
As he went back to his office to write some notes about what he had learned from his expensive transatlantic phone calls, he pondered what Angela had said. This was the first time that she had mentioned her broken engagement to a superintendent in the ‘Met’, since he had unexpectedly turned up a few months ago at a scene of crime near Gloucester. He knew she was still bruised by the experience, but it was a topic that they both avoided. She was right, though, he thought. They had to move on, and living in a house with three women, all attractive in their different ways, constantly reminded him of what he was missing.
With a sigh, he sat at his desk and pulled a writing pad towards him.
FOURTEEN
Next morning Moira had her first failure, for when she got through to the Forensic Institute at the University of Copenhagen she discovered that the doctor to whom Richard wished to speak had gone to Greenland for two weeks.
‘They said that the Danes cover it for forensic cases and he’s had to go back there for a court case in a murder,’ she announced despondently.
‘Never mind. I think we’ve got enough with the German and the two Yanks,’ Richard told her reassuringly. ‘Now I’ll have to get the solicitor in Stow to get his sworn statements from the States. That should keep him busy for a few hours.’
With no post-mortems to do that day, he felt at a loose end until the War Office wallahs came in the afternoon. He recalled that he was having trouble with the Humber’s handbrake, which came to the top of its ratchet before the brakes gripped. Though Jimmy had offered to fix it for him, he preferred to have it looked at by a competent mechanic. Jimmy was adept at farm-style lash-ups, but Richard decided that though a plough might be mended by the use of binder twine and a few blows from a hammer, a brake problem was too serious to be dealt with in that fashion.
He drove down to Tintern and called at a small garage behind one of the pubs, which he had patronized before. It was little more than an oily shed, but the grizzled man who ran it, with the help of a teenager, offered to look at it straight away. As he vanished under the Humber, Richard was strongly reminded of another dungareed mechanic with a young assistant, who so recently had been under a vehicle fixing the brakes. However, this one soon emerged unscathed and, wiping his hands on a rag, announced his diagnosis.