Having washed and changed, Jane made a cheese and tomato sandwich, which she ate with a packet of crisps and a mug of hot chocolate. Sitting at her breakfast bar, she looked up the phone number for St Mary’s Church in the phone book and jotted it down in her notebook. She looked forward to meeting Father Chris again and wondered if she should call him and let him know that her DI wanted a coroner’s officer to deal with the case and not her. She picked up the phone, started to dial, then put it down, deciding she would visit him at the church and tell him personally after the coffin was opened.

*

Arriving at Queen Mary’s Hospital Jane went to the coroner’s staff office, next to the mortuary. The cramped, rundown office had two desks facing each other and a chalkboard on the wall. On the board was a list of deceased people, cause and date of death and their fridge numbers. Jane noticed some blood-stained mortuary overalls on a coat stand and white mortuary boots next to it, which made the room smell like a mixture of death and disinfectant. A swarthy, chubby man in his late forties was sitting at a desk typing, whilst puffing on a cigarette that was hanging out of his mouth. His brown two-piece suit was badly creased and ill-fitting. A black tie hung loosely round his neck and the top button of his white shirt was undone.

Jane introduced herself and said she was dealing with the coffin discovered on the old convent grounds.

‘I’m PC Roger Rogers, the coroner’s officer,’ he said with the cigarette still in his mouth. A lump of ash fell onto his desk. He brushed it off and onto the floor.

‘My DI has asked that the case be handed over to a coroner’s officer as it’s not really a CID matter,’ Jane said.

Rogers raised his eyes in disapproval. ‘It’s not for a DI to decide what happens next, it’s up to the coroner after I’ve appraised him of the results of the coffin examination.’

‘I’ve got the details of the local priest who’s happy to speak with his bishop and assist regarding any reburial and restoration of the coffin to the church,’ Jane told him.

‘Having been a coroner’s officer for many years, I am aware of the necessary procedures in cases like this,’ he said tartly.

Jane decided to ignore his confrontational tone. ‘Has the coffin arrived?’ she asked.

He continued typing. ‘It’s in the mortuary examination room, as is your colleague DC Boon.’

What a pompous little man, Jane thought, turning to walk out the door.

‘No need to rush,’ he said. ‘The pathologist is running late.’

‘Is it Professor Martin?’ Jane asked, having worked with him on previous murder investigations.

Rogers sighed. ‘No, it’s Dr Pullen.’

She picked up on his uneasiness. ‘I’ve not met him before. Is there a problem?’

Rogers frowned. ‘She’s a woman, and about to be fully registered as London’s first female forensic pathologist. Personally, I think it’s a bit early to let her go solo.’