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Ed was momentarily taken aback before saying, ‘To test for insulin is a specialized process. The blood sample has to be spun down in a centrifuge and frozen at once, otherwise the insulin degrades.’

‘Did you do that?’

‘No.’

‘So it’s possible that Mrs Mellors was injected with insulin – say, between the toes – thus rendered unconscious, and then it would be straightforward to suspend her by the neck. There would be no signs of a struggle.’

Ed considered this. ‘I suppose not.’

‘Did you check between the toes for injection marks?’

I could see that Ed was having trouble not smiling. ‘No.’

‘So what do have to say about this possibility?’

Ed’s smile broke out. ‘I can’t help feeling that it would be difficult to stick a needle between someone’s toes without them noticing. I should imagine it would sting a bit.’

The Coroner’s smile said that he liked that answer. ‘Well, Miss Christy?’

She consulted her bits of paper. ‘Sir, I should like to bring into the record a letter the family have received from Mrs Fanshawe, who lives in Wales –’

‘Miss Christy,’ said the Coroner at once.

She stopped. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Does Mrs Fanshawe have some information of relevance to this case?’

‘The family believe so, sir.’

I thought the Coroner looked a little sceptical at this, but he nodded and said, ‘Very well.’

She turned back to Ed. ‘Mrs Fanshawe is a medium and she has received a message from Mrs Mellors in the afterlife to say that she did not take her own life. What do you say to that, Dr Burberry?’

Before Ed could answer, the Coroner erupted. ‘Are you serious, Miss Christy? Do you really think I’m interested in what a clairvoyant has to say about the matter?’

‘Sir, I –’

‘Have you any other matters to raise, Miss Christy?’ He had on a dangerous smile again.

‘Well, sir –’

Expression unchanged, he interrupted. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t raise anything that isn’t germane, Miss Christy.’

She looked for a moment as if she was going to push her luck but then she said, ‘No, sir,’ and sat down heavily.

That was that really. The husband’s barrister asked a few questions but I got the impression that he was just performing a bit to be seen to be doing something to earn his wad of fifty-pound notes, and the police solicitor didn’t even bother to do that. There was a bit more fun to be had when the husband took the stand because, instead of cutting his wife down straight away, he had gone next door to his neighbour for help. The family obviously thought that this was as good as a signed confession, but the Coroner was of the opinion that, since the husband was also a vet, he would know a dead person when he saw one.

After two and a half hours, the Coroner told everyone he was going to go away and consider his verdict, everyone stood and then the whole atmosphere became a bit less formal. Ed came over to join me and asked what I thought. I didn’t really know; half of me thought it was pretty much as I had expected, but the other half was surprised by it. ‘Isn’t there a jury?’

Ed explained that unless there were special circumstances, such as the death occurring in prison, or on railway property, then it was at the discretion of the Coroner.

‘What do you think he’ll decide?’

‘I’m afraid it’ll be an open verdict.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘It might give the family the idea that there is still some question about the husband’s involvement.’

The Coroner returned after an hour and then spent thirty minutes summing up all the evidence in great detail. As Ed had predicted, he did return an open verdict but he said in no uncertain terms that this was not because there was a shred of evidence that Mr Mellors or anyone else had had some involvement, it was merely because he couldn’t be absolutely sure that she had intended to kill herself, and the possibility that it might have been a cry for help that went wrong could not be excluded.

I watched the family and could see how dissatisfied they were. When I told Ed on the way back to the mortuary, he shrugged. ‘What can we do? People believe what they want to believe.’

THIRTY-ONE

I’d never