Angel of Death

Neil packed and booked a flight back before going over to the hotel to arrange for transport back to Athens. He then walked through to Miranda’s office to say goodbye.

‘I’ve been called back to London urgently.’

Her eyes sharpened. ‘Has the body been found?’

He smiled at her. ‘You’re sharp. Maybe. We’re not sure yet, that’s why I have to get back at once, to check it out.’

‘You will let me know, won’t you?’

‘I promise.’ He bent to kiss her and she lifted her face to meet his.

‘Goodbye for now,’ he whispered. ‘See you soon, I hope.’

He left and she turned to go back to her desk but paused, startled to find Alex in the corridor, watching.

Icily, he said, ‘Please keep your private life for your own time.’

When Neil got back to London, he went to Inspector Burbage’s office. She listened, head to one side, watching him with wry amusement from under those ginger eyebrows.

‘OK, Neil, go for it. I hope it’s the right girl, I know how hard you’ve worked on this case. Let’s hope you’re going to be able to charge young Finnigan.’

‘I can’t wait. I want him so much I can taste it. The cocky little bastard thinks he’s above the law. He’s been laughing at us all along, certain he had got away with it. Well, he’s in for a shock.’

She laughed. ‘You really don’t like him, do you? Let’s hope this is the right body. I’ll have a word with Merry Christmas, leave him to me. He’ll have to let you open the case again if we’ve got a body. You’d better take care of that witness of yours, we don’t want her ending up in the sea.’

‘Don’t worry, if this is the missing girl, I shall fly back to Greece to see Miranda, make sure she’s safe, and that she will come back to give evidence when we need her.’

She grinned at him. ‘Better make it an official trip, then they’ll fork out with the cost of the flight, and maybe even a cheap hotel.’ She tapped the side of her head with one stubby finger. ‘Think canny, Neil. This is business, not pleasure. Even if you do fancy this witness.’

Neil went red. ‘I didn’t say . . .’

‘You didn’t need to. I’ve noticed the way you look every time her name comes up.’ Burbage gave him a friendly punch on the arm that nearly knocked him over.

She was famous for her fighting skills; was a black belt at judo and had even boxed. ‘But don’t take any risks, Neil. Don’t contaminate the evidence. We don’t want the Finnigan brief to dream up a conspiracy between the two of you.’

Soberly, Neil said, ‘No, we certainly don’t. Look, do you think we should keep this quiet – the body turning up? We don’t want word getting back to the Finnigans, do we?’

‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Right, just between the two of us, and the Governor, then. Keep me up to speed, Neil, whatever you’re doing.’

He was on his way to Ireland two hours later. He flew to Dublin, where he picked up a hire car before driving along the coast to the little fishing port, a huddle of white cottages with slatey-blue roofs rising up from the walled harbour. He went first to the police station, built of flint and local stone, with a mock-Gothic tower at one end, looking more like an illustration from the Brothers Grimm than a modern police station. Inside, however, procedure was what he would expect of his own station.

He waited for five minutes until he was joined by a balding, middle-aged detective from the local Garda. Inspector Declan Murphy wore a crumpled grey suit and a tweed tie which had slipped sideways like the noose of a hanged man.

They weighed each other up, shaking hands.

‘So, you’re here to see our body? Someone you’d been looking for, I was told?’

‘Cross fingers,’ Neil said, performing the action.

‘You’re not going to recognise her. Even her own mother wouldn’t know her, poor soul. She’d been in the sea for a long time.’

‘I know. Can we go to see her right away?’

‘Surely.’

They drove up the winding little hill to the town’s cottage hospital; built around the same time by the same architect, as the police station, decided Neil as they parked and he got the chance to stare at the place.

‘What’s your population?’