The Lately Deceased Read Online Free PDF Page A

a long dark overcoat with an immense thick grey scarf, and had a wide-brimmed black hat pulled down over his eyes. He could have stepped straight from the pages of a secret service thriller.
    Taking his hat off to reveal a large nose and gimlet-bright eyes, he strode into the flat, speaking as he came.
    â€˜Ver iss ze body, pliss?’
    Geoff aimed him in the direction of the stairs and walked alongside as the little man rapidly pattered along. He explained the circumstances as they went. Reaching the bedroom, the doctor entered and made a circuit of the bed without stopping, conducting his examination en route. He flashed a hand onto the forehead and felt the pulse briefly; so briefly that, if there had been any pulse, he would have had time to detect about half a throb at the most. Finally he prodded the chest with his stethoscope for what seemed little more than a second.
    â€˜Much drink, you say? How old? Forty-five, hah! Any pains in chest, no? Pity! Yes, vomitus on ze face, much to drink, aaaah … well, well!’
    With that soliloquy, he left the room and set off down the stairs again. Reaching the lounge, he struck a professional pose and addressed Geoff, who once more took the burden of responsibility.
    â€˜Must be heart attack … very sorry. I will have to inform ze coroner. Who iss zair own doctor?’
    Geoff turned to the silent Gordon.
    â€˜Uh, we haven’t got one, not in town. Margaret goes … or went … to one in Oxford. I go to a fellow in Harley Street, but he doesn’t live on the premises and won’t be there at this time of day.’
    â€˜I will inform coroner,’ repeated the doctor, moving to the door which he had entered not more than four minutes earlier.
    Gordon suddenly came to life.
    â€˜What about the body? I mean, I have to stay here all night … or what’s left of it. I couldn’t stand the thought of having her here all the time like that! I can’t help it,’ he ended lamely.
    â€˜Must have autopsy … coroner.’ The little doctor repeated ‘coroner’ as if it were a magic spell.
    â€˜You can get it moved to ze mortuary when you like. Some undertakers have all-night service.’
    With these parting words of sympathy, he left at high speed. Gordon turned to Geoff.
    â€˜Sorry to be so useless, Geoff, but this has knocked me up more than a little. Not only because it’s Margaret, but, well, it’s just the idea of death, you know.’
    â€˜OK, old chap, don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. Go and get some more coffee, while I fix the undertaker people on the phone.’
    An hour later, a plain blue van took away the remains of Margaret Walker and the rest of the household made ready for the day that was just dawning.

Chapter Four
    Edgar Sidgwick mopped up the last of his baked bean juice with a chunk of bread and swallowed his third cup of tea. Settling his muffler more tightly around his neck, he picked up his old brown cap and made for the door.
    â€˜Ta-ta, Lizzie,’ he called in the direction of the kitchen door, where a clatter of dishes was his only reply. The old man clumped down the stairs to the ground floor, past the old coroner’s court and the office. Through an outside door, he went into the cold gloom of a late November morning and crossed the paved yard to the mortuary building.
    This particular mortuary was one of the oldest remaining in London, a relic of Victorian architecture, encrusted with grime and battered by Hitler’s bombs. The days in which the coroner had held court there had gone and now, like Edgar himself, the mortuary was just waiting for retirement and eventual demolition.
    Sidgwick had been there for forty-two years and death in any form had long since lost any novelty for him. This morning, he had been more disgruntled than usual as, at six thirty, he had been roused to accommodate a body which could just as well have waited until normal