Mrs. Jeffries Pinches the Post
“Constable Barnes said to the inspector. “We’d better have a look. The van to take him to the mortuary will be here any moment now.”
The doctor, a portly, balding fellow with a huge handlebar mustache, rose from where he’d been kneeling beside the body and started toward the waiting policemen. “I’m Dr. John Boyer,” he introduced himself as he drew near.
Witherspoon extended his hand, and the two men shook. “I’m Inspector Gerald Witherspoon and this is Constable Barnes. What can you tell ...us, Doctor?”
Boyer nodded at the constable. “Not much at this stage,” he replied. “Fellow’s been stabbed. But I’m not saying that’s the cause of death. I won’t know that officially until I do the postmortem.”
“When will you be finished with the autopsy?” he asked. From the corner of his eye, he could see that quite a crowd of locals had gathered. Several police constables were keeping them well away from the crime scene.MoreLess
The doctor, a portly, balding fellow with a huge handlebar mustache, rose from where he’d been kneeling beside the body and started toward the waiting policemen. “I’m Dr. John Boyer,” he introduced himself as he drew near.
Witherspoon extended his hand, and the two men shook. “I’m Inspector Gerald Witherspoon and this is Constable Barnes. What can you tell ...us, Doctor?”
Boyer nodded at the constable. “Not much at this stage,” he replied. “Fellow’s been stabbed. But I’m not saying that’s the cause of death. I won’t know that officially until I do the postmortem.”
“When will you be finished with the autopsy?” he asked. From the corner of his eye, he could see that quite a crowd of locals had gathered. Several police constables were keeping them well away from the crime scene.MoreLess
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