‘Mmmmmmm,’ he mused, lowering his voice as he turned to Hollis. ‘A fine figure of a woman. I believe a little mouth-to-mouth is called for. You never know, Hollis, you just never know.’ Like many of the medical examiners Hollis had known in the past, Dr Cornelius Hobbs clearly enjoyed proclaiming his own ease when confronted with a corpse. He was still chuckling to himself as he used the trailer hitch to clamber up on to the back of the truck.
The Basque appeared at the side of the vehicle. ‘A little more respect, I think.’
There was nothing censorious in his tone. Had there been, maybe Hobbs would have reacted differently; as it was, he simply frowned. ‘Don’t I know you?’
‘Not sure I’ve ever had the pleasure.’
The reply brought a thin smile to Hollis’ lips.
The woman’s body was loaded into the van on a gurney by the two assistants. Hobbs closed the doors and turned to Hollis.
‘They never learn.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Hollis.
‘The sea’s no friend of ours. Third drowning this week.’
Here we go, thought Hollis.
‘Had a lad down Mecox way, city people, father a banker. The boy gets accepted by West Point, has his friends up for the weekend to celebrate, big party on the beach. Swam for his college. Wasn’t drunk, his blood tested clean. Sharks had themselves a nibble before he washed up.’ He nodded towards the van. ‘No, don’t get much cleaner than that.’
‘How long do you reckon?’
‘From the rigor…less than twenty-four hours. You’ll have the autopsy report tomorrow, afternoon at the latest.’
‘I need a photo. For identification.’
‘Of course you do.’
‘Today would be good.’
‘Today, today, all I ever hear.’ Nevertheless, he clicked his fingers at one of his assistants. ‘Snap her.’
Clutching two four-by-five film holders, Hollis watched as the van pulled away. Almost immediately the spectators started to dissipate. The Basque was rolling a cigarette by the Model A; the Kemp boy appeared to have left already. Hollis strolled over.