Page 42 of Dead Fall

‘It’s a well-known issue among athletes. Exercise, especially endurance forms, in dry or cold conditions, can trigger perilous levels of broncho-constriction.’

‘There you go! I’ve always said it’s dangerous, this fitness lark,’ said Jason, hefting the pail of lungs off the bench. ‘When I kick the bucket I want to be sat on my sofa watching Formula 1, with a fag on, drinking Jack Daniel’s.’

The Prof chuckled. ‘Bravo, Jason. And I shall be on hand to confirm cause of death as “heroic disregard for life-lengthening measures”.’

*

With four further PMs taking up the rest of the morning, Cassie had to rush to reach the rendezvous for her meeting with George Angelopoulos.

He was already there – downstairs in the basement of the Costa where they were the only customers – and intent on his phone.

Over his shoulder she saw that he was looking at a pic of Bronte, aged seven or eight, holding a double scoop of ice cream in a cone, a delighted grin splitting her face.

‘Marine Ices!’ said Cassie, recognising the electric-blue lettering of the shopfront in the background. ‘My dad used to take me there.’

George stood up to greet her. ‘She loved it there. It used to be our weekly treat, till she left home.’

She talked him through the timeframe of when the coroner might release Bronte’s body for burial now that it was a criminal investigation. ‘She will call for a second examination by a Home Office-approved pathologist – in case of any challenge by the defence if it comes to court.’

‘Another post-mortem?!’

Seeing his alarmed look, she tried to reassure him. ‘He might only need to do an external exam and double-check the original report.’ Mentally crossing her fingers, since that couldn’t be guaranteed.

‘What about her blood samples and so on?’

‘All the samples that were taken at the first PM are being held at the lab in case someone is charged and goes to trial.’

He looked down at his hands for a moment. ‘You know the police won’t even tell us what this new evidence is?’ – his gaze raking her face.

She shrugged apologetically. ‘It’s not unusual for the police to withhold details in case it might help with their investigation.’

‘But you know what these online detectives are saying? That the police are hiding the evidence simply to cover their backs.’

‘Those people are idiots, George.’

He seemed jumpy today, his eyes red-rimmed, the whiff of ethanol coming through his pores, evidence of a heavy night on the booze. He was still dressed immaculately though: his dark suit twinned with a casual but pricey-looking merino V-neck underneath, and a Breitling wristwatch that didn’t look like knock-off. The sale of his restaurant business had made him wealthy, but recalling what Honest Bob had said, she wondered whether, as Bronte’s manager, her death stood to make him even richer?

Feeling a spurt of guilt at the thought, she sought his eyes and asked gently, ‘How are you doing?’

He shook his head slowly, staring at the table, before looking up, his bloodshot eyes meeting Cassie’s.

‘I’m fine, for a man who just killed his daughter.’

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cassie was taken aback, but only for a moment. When someone died suddenly – especially by their own hand – family members often took the blame on themselves.

‘Why do you say that, George?’ she asked gently.

He was silent for a long moment, staring at the tabletop between them. ‘Her mother was right. If only I hadn’t encouraged her musical ambitions .?.?. You see, Bronte, Sophia, she could seem tough, as if she was completely in control? When she was a little girl her mother would scold her for being bossy but even then I knew it was just a symptom of anxiety.’

‘Do you have any idea what caused it? The anxiety?’

‘I think she picked it up from her mother. When I met Chrysanthi I was a good deal older than her.’ He pulled an embarrassed grimace. ‘Too old. I realise that now. She was an orphan like me, and had been brought up in children’s homes, so neither of us had any family. I’d been away from Cyprus for most of my adult life working on the cruise ships. We were both .?.?. a little lost, rootless. When I first saw her she was working in a florist’s shop in Larnaca.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘She was .?.?. like a flower herself.’

‘What is the age difference, can I ask?’

Another grimace. ‘I was thirty-six – nearly twice her age.’

---