He sighed heavily. Well, at least this time not even Dr Ryder and his troublesome WPC would be able to make anything out of something so straightforward as a dead motorist.

Chapter 5

Trudy very rarely had cause to visit Dr Clement Ryder at his private residence, and she felt a moment of apprehension as she walked up South Parks Road towards the attractive Victorian terrace where he had his home. She was pushing her bicycle somewhat awkwardly, as the roads here hadn’t been totally cleared yet, but she was confident that the main Woodstock and Banbury roads to the north of the city would have been. And that Dr Ryder’s heavy Rover would probably be able to cope with the conditions.

But what if he wasn’t interested in her new ‘case’ – if it could even be called that? She doubted that there’d turn out to be anything actually criminal going on, and he might not appreciate being dragged out into the cold just to do the police surgeon a favour. On the other hand, they hadn’t investigated anything together since last May. She couldn’t be the only one who was looking forward to getting together again – could she?

She sighed as she opened his gate, relieved to see that the short front path had recently seen the attentions of a snow shovel. She was dressed in wellington boots (not regulation, but the weather had made even the most hardened stickler for uniform turn a blind eye) and as she rang the doorbell, she conscientiously stamped her footwear clear of clinging snow. If she had misjudged things, the last thing she wanted to do was track unmelted snow into the house.

She was still looking down at her feet when the door opened, and she looked up with a bright smile, already saying ‘Happy New Year, Dr Ry …’ when she realised that the man standing in front of her was not, in fact, the coroner.

Somewhere in his late twenties, he was around six feet tall, with light brown, almost blond hair and large, hazel eyes. He was good-looking in a foxy-faced kind of way, and at the moment he was looking over her uniform and frowning. ‘Yes, officer? Is there something I can help you with?’

Trudy quickly wiped the smile off her face, feeling like a fool, and stiffened slightly. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I was wondering if it would be possible to speak to Dr Clement Ryder?’

The stranger on the doorstep looked at her with wary puzzlement. Her complexion had become reddened by the coldness of the day, but she couldn’t know that he thought she still managed to look quite lovely. ‘It’s New Year’s Day,’ he said flatly, apparently unimpressed by the caller’s charm. ‘I believe he’s not officially on duty until the beginning of next week?’

Trudy flushed. She was right to be worried – she shouldn’t have come. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll …’