Deadly Diplomacy Read Online Free PDF

through him. This time the hairs on the back of his neck rose too. He waited for the moment to pass before turning back to Anderson. “What was the time of death?”
    Anderson brushed the back of his gloved hand across his forehead as if to wipe away non-existent perspiration. “Well, she’s been in the water a while, which makes it difficult to be precise before we’ve done the autopsy.”
    “Your best guess then? I won’t hold you to it.”
    Anderson’s eyebrows knitted together in a single bushy line. “Well… I’d say she’s probably been dead about 12 or 13 hours.”
    “That means she was killed sometime between 7 and 8pm last night?”
    Anderson nodded.
    Sangster stood up and looked around again. So what was she doing down here last night in the dark? Out for an evening stroll? A bit of solitude? This was a private spot and well away from prying eyes. Was she alone? Or meeting someone perhaps? He turned to Anderson again. “What’s your sense of what happened down here?”
    Anderson frowned and pointed to the jetty. “We’ve found fresh blood spatter on the boards, Tom. I reckon she was up there when the killer attacked. There are signs of a struggle. There are no railings, so they must have both gone over the side into the water.”
    “She put up a fight, then?”
    “I’ll say.”
    Sangster studied the jetty. He was still deep in thought when he heard familiar footsteps. Turning back, he saw Sergeant Dalton stop behind the crime cordon. Dalton’s plump face looked ashen. Small beads of sweat glistened along his receding hairline and trickled down his forehead. He was looking everywhere but at the corpse… and the blood.
    Sangster looked away. He’d told Dave he had to get this problem fixed if he wanted to stay on his murder team. “Did you find the local guy who was first on the scene like I asked?” He didn’t hide the irritation in his voice.
    Dalton looked over his shoulder. “He’s on his way.”
    All eyes turned to the empty path.
    Dalton shuffled his feet and pulled out his notepad. “I got the details from him, Boss.”
    “Well, go on, then.”
    Dalton cleared his throat. “He says he arrived here at 5.30 this mornin’, after gettin’ a call from the hotel receptionist. Apparently, a lad called Danny Burton found the body around five o’clock when he started his shift. Danny does gardenin’ and maintenance work.” Dalton looked over at the electric lamp on the jetty. “Reception asked him to replace that bulb after a guest nearly fell in last night in the dark. As soon as Danny put it in, well, that’s when he saw her.” Dalton pointed in the direction of the corpse, but he didn’t look down.
    Sangster nodded. A sharp pain caught him under the breast bone and he stood still to let it pass. He’d drunk too much coffee on an empty stomach again. He should have eaten breakfast, particularly as he’d skipped dinner last night. But the truth was he’d been too worried about Liz to eat. Where the hell was she? He hadn’t heard a word from her since she’d walked out on Saturday. The shock of arriving home and finding her gone rippled through him again. Why did she have to be so dramatic? Their row on Friday night had been nothing out of the ordinary. Of course it had been his fault, as usual. He’d forgotten he was taking her out for dinner; and she’d been all dressed up and waiting for him for hours. So when he’d finally got home from work around midnight, she’d been spoiling for a fight. The trouble was, he’d been tired enough to oblige.
    Anderson shuffled impatiently beside him.
    “Found anything to suggest a motive?” Sangster asked him.
    Anderson pushed back his white hood, revealing a sun-freckled bald spot on the top of his head. “If you’re thinking it might be a mugging gone wrong, look at her wrist.”
    Sangster didn’t have to; he’d seen her designer watch. “Have you found her handbag, or shoes?”
    Anderson shook his