Gift Wrapped Read Online Free PDF Page B

despite the low roof and the cramped leg space. Although it would and did take the salary of a doctor to buy and run one, and he knew that Louise D’Acre had inherited it, lovingly cared for it, and intended to bequeath it to her son.
    Hennessey continued to stroll into York, joined the walls at Lendal Bridge and walked weaving amid the tourists to Micklegate Bar where he carefully descended the steep stone steps down to street level. He crossed the street when the traffic lights stopped all vehicular traffic thus allowing foot passengers thirty seconds to make their way across the road, and entered Micklegate Bar Police Station. He signed as being ‘in’ at the enquiry desk and walked up the stairs to the first floor and to the CID corridor. He walked into the detective constables’ room, collected the file on the Gate Helmsley skeleton from the top of Webster’s desk and took it to his office. He read Webster’s recording, noting that he had made a comment about the age of the oak trees and the manner in which the roots had seemed to wrap around the skeleton, thus giving some indication of the time the body had been buried. Hennessey then added Dr D’Acre’s preliminary post-mortem findings as had been verbally given to him, then placed the file in his filing cabinet. He reached for his panama and as he did so he glanced at his watch: 8.10 p.m. He would be home reasonably early for once.
    Wednesday, 31 May, 13.40 hours
    George Hennessey, relaxed and fully satiated after lunch at the Starre Inne, reputed to be York’s oldest hostelry, sat back in his chair in his office at Micklegate Bar Police Station and scanned the newly arrived report which had been faxed to him from Dr D’Acre at the York District Hospital. He picked out the salient points as he read: the toxicity test on the skeleton found near Gate Helmsley had proved negative, as, in fact, had been expected. DNA had been extracted from the marrow in the long bones and a profile had been created should any blood relative be found, thus enabling a conclusive identification to be made. A cross-section of one of the teeth suggested that the deceased was approximately forty-seven years old when he died. The cause of death, he read, was likely to be a combination of both the blow to the head and a long-bladed instrument entering the right of the ribcage at a slightly upward angle. Individually Dr D’Acre wrote, either might be fatal, but the combination of both injuries definitely would have been, especially if the blade had reached and had entered the aorta. Hennessey laid the report upon his desk top just as his phone warbled. He let it ring three times before leisurely extending his hand and picking up the handset. ‘DCI Hennessey,’ he answered.
    â€˜It’s the switchboard here, sir.’ The voice was female, young and sounded nervous. Hennessey heard an evident desire to please in the shaking voice; he also detected an enthusiasm behind the nervousness.
    â€˜Yes, switchboard,’ he replied, calmly but authoritatively.
    â€˜There is a caller on the line, sir, a lady caller,’ the switchboard operator explained. ‘She says that she is calling in response to the e-fit which appeared in the morning edition of the local paper, sir.’
    â€˜Well, well, that is indeed a rapid response.’ Hennessey groped for his notepad with his free hand and drew it towards him, then took his pen from his jacket pocket and held it poised over the notepad, which was firmly in his left hand, the pen in his right, and compressed the telephone handset against his right ear, in a practised manner, with his right shoulder. ‘Very well, thank you. Can you put the caller through, please?’
    â€˜Hello ...’ the voice seemed meek, hesitant. ‘Hello ... hello ...’
    â€˜Yes, madam,’ Hennessey replied warmly. ‘I understand that you are phoning in response to the e-fit which was printed in