‘Malden’s again. What is going on, Sal?’
I sighed. ‘I don’t know. You need to ring Charles and get him to agree to a post mortem. I can’t see he’d object with what we know about the pills. And that’s what I’ll tell the coroner – that we know she was given very high dosages and we want to see if it contributed to her death. I’ll try the police again too.’
There was a bank statement waiting for me at the office along with another exhortation to take out a loan. Hell, they just wanted to get me deeper in debt. Kilkenny Investigations was hardly in a position to pay the bills, never mind a loan.
I got out the Achebe file, made a note of the payment from Jimmy. Clean slate. I put the cheque in my bag to deposit at the bank.
I trembled. The office was freezing. I’d no fresh milk. Sod it, I could do my other calls from home either side of collecting Maddie and Tom.
I rang the police. DS Wignall was out of the office and would return my call when he got back.
The coroner was in. He listened to my concerns. I concentrated solely on the medication Lily had been receiving, and he agreed a post mortem should be held. ‘We’re always happy to arrange a post mortem in a case like this, set people’s minds at rest.’
Or set them thinking.
He needed to hear from next of kin, though, for permission. Meanwhile he would confirm with the hospital that the body was to be held in the morgue until further notice.
When I spoke to Agnes she still hadn’t managed to get through to Charles. She would ring me when she had.
I was ravenous. The children had polished off spaghetti hoops but I wanted something more substantial – stir-fried vegetables and rice. I’d just started slicing things up when the phone went. The police?
‘Sal, this is Agnes.’ She paused.
‘Hello. Did you speak to Charles?’
‘Dr Goulden is here. I think you better come over. He wants to talk to us.’ Her voice sounded strained, shaky. The phone went dead before I could respond.
Ray wasn’t back, Sheila was out. I couldn’t leave the children and I didn’t want to take them with me. I rang Jackie Dobson, whose eldest daughter, Vicky, sometimes babysat. She was saving for a car and every little helped. She was round in five minutes. I asked her to explain to Ray when he got in and I left Agnes’ phone number in case there was a crisis. Digger leapt to his feet, inspired by all the rush of activity; was this his big chance?
‘No, Digger. You’re not coming. Stay.’ He slumped. As I left Maddie and Tom were competing for Vicky’s attention by diving off the sofa.