Douglas, who at fifty-two years of age, felt tickled pink to be referred to as a lad, grunted warily. ‘What are you up to, you sly old fox? I’ve heard the rumours about you and that pretty young WPC.’

Clement sat up straighter in his chair. ‘You what?’ he yelped indignantly, and after a surprised silence on the other end, heard his old friend laughing.

‘No, nothing like that,’ Douglas reassured him. ‘I just meant that you’re beginning to get talked about for butting in on cases that should be handled by regular police officers.’

‘WPC Loveday is a regular police officer,’ Clement pointed out with impeccable logic, relaxing back against his chair. ‘In fact, she was the one who was called out to deal with this fatal car accident.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Dr Carey said sceptically. ‘So why do you want an early tox screen on a simple road traffic fatality? And why are you in no hurry to have a post-mortem done?’

Clement sighed. That was the trouble with asking a favour of old friends – they could be so damned suspicious! Of course, the reason Clement wasn’t in any hurry for the post-mortem to be done was because he had a hunch that the findings might not be as straightforward as the circumstances would dictate. And if that was so, DI Jennings would pull Trudy off the case as quick as lightning.

And he was damned if he wanted that to happen just yet. He was having too much fun. Besides, even if his hunch didn’t pay off, and it did turn out that the cause of death was nothing more than might be expected given the circumstances, it would do her no harm at all to get the experience of handling a case all by herself under her belt. And just as Jennings was determined to hold her back if he could, Clement was as determined to see to it that he wasn’t allowed to!

‘I thought you’d be pleased I’m giving you an easy ride,’ Clement prevaricated. ‘I’m willing to bet your schedule is actually as chock-a-block as Robbins was whining about.’

Dr Carey sighed wearily, knowing when he was beaten. ‘Yes, you’re quite right of course. I’ve got cadavers coming out of my ears.’

‘Lovely image,’ Clement said dryly. ‘So you’ll do as I ask? Run a tox screen right away, then put him at the bottom of your list? And let me know the moment the results are in?’

‘What’s in it for me?’ Douglas asked craftily.

‘I’ll give you a chance to beat me at golf,’ Clement said.

‘Hah! Make it a bottle of whisky.’

‘Done,’ Clement said quickly.

‘A good bottle, mind! None of that blended muck!’