By Brian Freemantle
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Extra resources for A Mind to Kill
The pathologist scuffed out of the office and immediately began stripping off his protective suit. ’ They shook hands. Bentley was a gaunt, tall man who towered over the medical examiner. ‘Multiple stab wounds and extensive lacerations,’ said the pathologist. ‘I won’t know until after the postmortem, obviously, but I’d say at least five would have been fatal. Quite a concentration around the heart area, as if she was specifically hitting him there. That and the face. ’ ‘Hell hath no fury,’ said Bentley.
Good copper though. ’ ‘He thinks there’s another woman. ’ Feltham looked disappointedly at his empty plate. ‘It doesn’t matter which way you present it, Jennifer Lomax murdered her husband in front of sixteen people. She’s guilty. I’m not into formal pleas of mitigation and you know it. ’ He nodded to cheese and port, vintage Warre in preference to the Dow. ’ ‘She wants a miracle. ’ Feltham nodded, ‘I sympathize. And understand. And I’d do it as a favour, if it were possible. But look at it objectively, from my point of view.
Classic syndrome,’ predicted Bentley. He turned to two policewomen in the outer corridor. ‘Go with her in the ambulance. ’ Jennifer allowed herself to be laid on the stretcher trolley and Bentley stood aside for her to be wheeled past him. Her eyes were closed but there was a faint smile on her face. ‘Call us when the body’s ready to be moved,’ said the ambulanceman as they went by. Bentley nodded, staying to the side of the room for the overalled forensic team to enter. He recognized Anthony Billington at the head of the group: he’d worked with the obese man on three of the previous murders.