“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Just clearing my desk a bit. Fire away.”
“There’s something here that doesn’t make sense.”
“Which part?”
“Inhalation analgesia negative. What does that mean?”
“When the central nervous system is shut down by some external cause, it loses the ability to function. The receptors that normally allow us to feel pain are basically turned off. It’s called analgesia — pain relief. But Albarn’s central nervous system didn’t do this.”
“Once again in English, please.”
“OK, try this. Dennis Albarn’s heart didn’t stop beating as a result of the fire or the gas in the house.”
“How did he die, then?”
“I’m afraid the body was in such a state there wasn’t much left for us to go on. The only thing I can say for certain is that he wasn’t killed by the explosion or by gas inhalation.”
“And the team from Exeter are aware of this?”
“Of course. They had access to all the reports.”
“Thank you. I owe you a drink.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Call me any time.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
What the hell was going on? Taylor left her computer and went outside for some fresh air. In a few hours’ time DCI James was going to stand in front of a hoard of journalists to bask in the glory of a successful investigation. There was no way she could tackle him before the press conference — her life wouldn’t be worth living. On the other hand she wasn’t sure she could sit through a press conference full of self-important pronouncements when she knew for a fact they were nothing more than speculation.
She needed something to take her mind off everything. For some reason she remembered the annoying law lecturer with his “Dr Livingstone, I presume” attempt at a joke, and she grinned. She went back to her desk, took a deep breath and emailed her bank details to the company who owed her Danny’s commission. Then she booked and paid for ten days on a small boat going up the Nile.
This time on Wednesday I’ll be far away from everything, I may not find the source of the Nile — and it looks as if I won’t find the solution here either — but at least I’ll be doing something completely new.
Buoyed up by her decisiveness, she decided to go into town, buy Alice Green a birthday present and drop it off. She could spend a few hours with her and then go on to the press conference.
* * *
It was easy enough to find a bottle of fine port — she couldn’t go wrong with that — and she even found what she hoped was a suitable card to take over to Alice’s house in Polgarrow.
She exchanged a few words with Eddie Sedgwick, who was pruning his roses in his front garden, and knocked on the door. Alice opened it, looking rather confused.
“Hello, dear, but you’re rather early. I haven’t even put the roast in the oven yet.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I have to attend a press conference at six. I’m sorry, I couldn’t get out of it.”
“That’s all right, love. Come in. Is that for me?”
“It is. Happy birthday. I didn’t know which one you normally drank.”
“Not this one.” Alice examined the label. “This is the expensive one. I’ll have a drop or two of that later.”
“I hope I haven’t put you out.” Taylor followed her inside. “I only found out about the press conference a few hours ago.”
“Plans change. I learned that a long time ago. Would you like some tea?”
“That would be lovely.” She sat down at the table in the kitchen and Alice busied herself with making tea.
“Morning,” the jackdaw shrieked. “Morning.”
“He hasn’t learned how to say afternoon yet. It’s a shame about the press conference, but I suppose all your hard work ought to be recognised.”
“It’s hardly recognition. I’m dreading it. That DCI from Exeter is an arrogant egomaniac.”
“Men. Too much testosterone. They never grow up, really.” She poured the tea into two china cups and handed one to Taylor. “So it’s all over? It’s back to normal again? Apart from Milly not being around, that is. Albarn is going to rot in hell for what he did.”
“It . . . yes, it is.” I’m here to celebrate her birthday, Taylor thought. And she seems so relieved. I can’t tell her my misgivings.
“So what about that lovely beef, then?” Alice changed the subject. “When can you make it?”
“Tomorrow? The minute this press conference is over, I’ve got two weeks off. I’m flying out on Wednesday for a ten-day trip up the Nile.”
“How lovely. And you’ve earned it. You deserve a holiday. Tomorrow sounds perfect. Come at lunch, since you’re not at work? And I’ll make us a nice pudding too.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Even though Taylor arrived at the station an hour before the press conference, the car park was already full and news crews were setting up outside the building. It was going to be a long night, with the biggest story to hit the local news in — well, possibly ever.
The two PCs White and DS Duncan were standing by the entrance as she went in. Eric White spotted her, tapped his namesake on the shoulder and they both started to clap. DS Duncan joined in. She could feel her face turning red.
“Stop it,” she told them. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re famous,” Thomas White said. “You’re going to be in all the papers.”
“I’m dreading it. DCI James is going to make a whole song and dance about it — I’m sure of it.”
“James is an arsehole, but you have to admit, he gets results,” Duncan said.
“I can’t wait for it to be over. I’m off up the Nile on Wednesday.”
“Lucky bugger,” Eric said.
“Is Killian here?”
“He was headed up to the canteen last time I saw him.”
“Well, I need a cup of tea.” She didn’t, but she wanted to see him.
She found Killian sitting by himself in the canteen. “All set?” he asked her.
“No. Journalists make me panic.”
“I’ll let you in on a trick I learned a long time ago,” Killian said. “When you’re in front of a large group of people, don’t picture them as people.”
“Don’t tell me. Imagine them naked?”
“That’s ridiculous. No, when you see all the faces before you, imagine they all have faces like pigs.”
“Pigs?”
“With their tiny eyes and hairy snouts. It works for me.”
“I’ll give it a go.” The idea amused her. “I’ve got a feeling the DCI is going to do most of the talking anyway. James really loves the sound of his own voice. Anyway, I’ve booked a ten-day cruise up the Nile. I’m leaving on Wednesday.”
“Just what the doctor ordered. Send me a postcard.”
“At least tomorrow we’ll be free of the Exeter crew. I can’t wait for things to get back to normal again.”
“Things are never normal. You have to accept that there will always be something new happening. Don’t get old before your time.”
She checked her watch. “Here goes. Wish me luck.”
“I wish I could be there, but James made it totally clear I’m not welcome.”
“You’re lucky. And I’m still not so sure this is all over.”
She left Killian looking slightly perplexed. It was still early when she got to the conference room but James and the other Exeter detectives were already behind the desk and the press officer was starting to look slightly frantic. She slid in at the end, beside DS Southern.