The Chemistry of Death by Simon Beckett Read Free Book Online

eighty-year-old woman with chronic arthritis. A regular.
    'How many more are there to see?' I asked, stalling.
    'Another three after this.'
    'Tell him I won't be long. And tell Mrs Benchley to come through.'
    She looked surprised, but said nothing. By now I doubted there was anyone in the village who didn't know that a body had been found the day before. But so far no-one seemed to have made the connection with Sally Palmer. I wondered how long it would stay that way.
    I pretended to study the notes until Janice had gone. I knew Mackenzie wouldn't have come unless it was important, and I doubted any of that morning's patients were urgent cases. I wasn't sure why I was keeping him waiting, other than a deep reluctance to hear whatever he had to say.
    I tried not to think what it might be as I saw my next patient. I looked sympathetic as Mrs Benchley displayed her gnarled hands, made the soothing and ultimately useless noises expected of me as I wrote her another prescription, and smiled vaguely as she hobbled out, satisfied. After that, though, I couldn't put it off any longer.
    'Send him in,' I told Janice.
    'He doesn't look very happy,' she warned me.
    No, Mackenzie didn't look very happy. There was an angry flush to his face, and his jaw jutted truculently.
    'Good of you to see me, Dr Hunter,' he said, his sarcasm barely concealed. He carried a leather folder. He held it on his lap as he sat down opposite me, uninvited.
    'What can I do for you, Inspector?'
    'Just a couple of points I'd like to clarify.'
    'Have you identified the body?'
    'Not yet.'
    He took out the packet of mints and popped one in his mouth. I waited. I'd known enough policemen not to be discomforted by the games they played.
    'I didn't think places like this were around any more. You know, small, family doctor, home visits, all that sort of thing,' he said, looking around. His eyes settled on the bookshelves. 'Lot of stuff on psychology, I see. That an interest of yours?'
    'They're not mine, they're my partner's.'
    'Ah. So how many patients do the two of you have?'
    I wondered where this was going. 'Five, six hundred altogether, perhaps.'
    'As many as that?'
    'It's a small village but a big area.'
    He nodded, as if this were just a normal conversation. 'Bit different to being a GP in a city.'
    'I suppose so.'
    'Miss London, do you?'
    I knew then what was coming. Again, no real surprise. Just a sense of a weight settling onto my shoulders. 'Perhaps you'd better tell me what you want.'
    'I did some research after we spoke yesterday. My being a policeman and all.' He gave me a cool stare. 'You've an impressive CV, Dr Hunter. Not the sort of thing you'd imagine for a village GP.'
    Unzipping the folder, he made a show of leafing through the papers in it. 'Took your medical certificate then switched to a PhD in anthropological science. Quite a high-flier, according to this. Followed that with a stint in the States at the University of Tennessee before coming back to the UK as a specialist in forensic anthropology.'
    He cocked his head. 'You know, I wasn't even sure what forensic anthropology was, and I've been a policeman for nearly twenty years. I could manage the "forensic" bit, of course. But anthropology? I always thought that was studying old bones. Bit like archaeology. Shows how things can slip by you.'
    'I don't like to rush you, but I've got patients waiting.'
    'Oh, I won't take any longer than I have to. But while I was on the internet I also found some papers you'd written. Interesting titles.' He picked up a sheet of paper. ' "The Role of Entomology in Time-Since-Death Analysis". "The Chemistry of Human Decomposition".'
    He lowered the paper. 'Pretty specialist stuff. So I phoned a friend of mine in London. He's an inspector with the Met. Turned out he'd heard of you. Surprise, surprise, it looks like you've worked as a consultant for various police forces on quite a few murder investigations. England, Scotland, even Northern Ireland. My contact said