In the ward

While he mused regretfully over the fact that Cantwell was off-duty, Temple rummaged in the glove compartment of the car. He found a corduroy barge cap. In the back of the car was a black mac. These would have to do, he decided.

He waited for about five minutes to allow McBride to get to the ward. Then, he donned the mac and the barge cap and walked quickly down the corridor to where Brenda Ellacott was being nursed. He was relieved to see the same Sister in charge whom had met him previously. He removed the cap, she smiled and gestured to the side -room. Replacing the cap, he stood to one side of the side-room and watched what was going on.

McBride leaned towards Brenda Ellacott. He did not seem to be playing the role of caring doctor bringing bad news. He seemed angry, gesturing wildly and speaking in fast, low tones. Lying propped up against her pillows, Brenda Ellacott was becoming increasingly distressed.

Deciding that enough was enough, Temple removed the cap and strode into the room purposefully.

"I told you there was no need for your presence, Temple. She is my patient and ..."

"From what I saw, I think you were doing rather more than breaking bad news, Dr McBride. As a matter of interest, just what were you saying?"

McBride straightened up and crossed over to face Temple, he prodded him in the chest:
"I am not going to be questioned by you about personal discussions with a patient." He turned back to the bed. "Goodnight, Mrs Ellacott. I'll call back tomorrow." He brushed past Temple and left the ward.

Temple drew up a chair and sat next to the bed. He sat quietly, for a few moments, she was still distressed:
"I am so very sorry for the news about your husband. It must have come as a shock. Is there anyone who you would like us to inform or someone who can be with you?" She shook her head and turned away.

"Was it you who found me?" Her voice was stronger but still husky from the bruising to her neck.

"Yes. My sergeant and I tried to catch the man who was running from your flat."

"Did you catch the bastard?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But we will. I'll arrange for the flat to be tidied up before you're discharged. You've had a bad enough time, without going home to all that."

"How did he die?" She turned to look at him.

"We're not sure yet. The pathologist should be able to tell us more tomorrow. But, from what I was told already, I think he drowned. His car was found about half a mile from the river." He heard her give a sharp intake of breath. "Was your husband worried about anything?" She shook her head.

He was keen to ask her about what had gone on in her flat the day she was beaten. However, she was still fragile both physically and emotionally. No purpose would be served by asking more questions at this stage.

He touched her shoulder gently and she turned back to look at him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks:
"I am so sorry, Mrs Ellacott. I'll leave you to rest. When I have more news, I'll let you know."

Returning to the main ward, he went over to the Sister's desk:
"I think someone should keep a special watch on Mrs Ellacott tonight. I expect Dr McBride has already told you about the news he brought her."

"What news?" The Sister looked puzzled. "Dr McBride said nothing to me or the other staff. He just charged in and charged out again. What news did he tell her?"

Temple briefly explained the situation.

"Oh the poor soul! Why on earth didn't Dr McBride tell us. Of course I'll arrange to monitor her closely. A shock like this could set her recovery back." A smile crossed her face and she was transformed from the stern looking ward sister to a pretty young woman. "Thank you, Inspector Temple, I am grateful you had the compassion to tell me."

As he walked across the car park and got into the car, Temple felt distinctly better about life. He was surprised that a pretty woman's smile could have such an impact.

At the Surgery

To say that Dr McBride was irritated to be contacted by Temple, after evening surgery, would be a gross understatement. He kept Temple waiting for over half an hour.

"I haven't got long, Temple, so you'd better hurry up."

"It's Detective Inspector Temple, Dr McBride. You would do well to remember that. Also, I regret, this will not be a case of 'hurry up'. It will take as long as it needs. Alright?" He looked long and hard at McBride.

McBride flushed with irritation. He started to tap a silver propelling pencil against his desktop: "So, what is it you want to know?"

"Several things. I'll take them in order. Firstly, how well did you know Ben Ellacott both as a patient and professionally?"

"Professionally? I had no more dealings with him than I do with any other pharmacist. As for being his doctor, I hardly saw him. In general, he was pretty fit."

Temple did not respond at once. He looked around the room, his eyes resting on the large certificate on the wall declaring Dr Andrew McBride had qualified at Glasgow University in 1938.

"Your name features prominently in the pharmacy ledgers. In fact, you seem to be one of his major customers."

"What are you talking about? 'Major customer'! I write the prescriptions for my patients, I don't take them!"

"That's interesting, Dr McBride. Then, can you explain how you are still prescribing for a patient who died over a year ago."

McBride stopped tapping the silver pencil immediately. He leaned forward and thumped the desk with his fist: "Just what are you talking about, Temple? What the hell are you saying? You'd better be pretty damn sure of your facts. I know the Chief Constable well. I'll have you thrown off the force and out of this county quicker than ..."

Temple held up his hand and produced a notebook. Slowly, he turned several pages:
"December 4, last year, Miss Ashfold of The Grove was prescribed several tablets of sodium amytal." He flicked over two more pages. "February 3rd, this year, Miss Ashfold was prescribed more sodium amytal. Each entry has under the title 'Prescribing Doctor' your name, Dr McBride. Yet, Miss Ashfold had died in July last year." He thumbed through the book. "There are other examples. A Mr Crispin, who died eighteen months ago is still being prescribed drinomyl."

"Where did you get this tosh?"

"Neatly written up in Ben Ellacott's pharmacy ledgers."

"You had no right to examine those books. It is highly confidential information. When he gets back ..."

"That brings me to the other aspect of this visit, Dr McBride. I want you to come with me to the mortuary to give a formal identification of the body of Ben Ellacott."

"Do you think I have nothing better to do with my time!"

"Mrs Ellacott is too unwell and you would seem to be the best person. He has no more living relatives here."

"I see. Well, in that case I will. Of course this throws a light on the previous matter you mentioned about Miss Ashfold and Mr Crispin. Ellacott was obviously fiddling the books to get drugs for God knows what purpose, using my name as cover. When it all got too much, he must have committed suicide."

Temple made no comment. He snapped shut the notebook. He wasn't sure what to make of McBride. Instinctively, he disliked him. However, he knew from past experience that personal prejudice and good crime solving did not go hand-in-hand."

"Shall I drive you to the mortuary, Dr McBride?"

"No, I'll get there under my own steam. I still have a patient call to make this evening."

It took less than ten minutes for both cars to reach the mortuary. The lights in that part of the hospital were out. The attendant was in an office in the main building. He was not best pleased to be disturbed and asked to unlock the doors. However, when he saw Dr McBride, his whole manner changed. He instantly became more businesslike. Temple wondered what it must be like to be a pillar of local society, admired and obeyed without question. The thought irritated him more than a little.

The attendant opened the chill cabinet drawer and pulled out a body covered by a sheet. He lifted the sheet and Dr McBride stepped forward. With no more than a cursory glance, he nodded. The sheet was replaced, the drawer closed again.

As they walked back to their cars, McBride said nothing. He was obviously deep in thought.

"The pathologist will do the post mortem tomorrow. I'll let you know the result." Temple said.

"No need, cause of death is pretty obvious. Poor chap drowned. As I said earlier, he seems to have committed suicide. His conscience caught up with him, no doubt. Does Mrs Ellacott know you found the body?"

"No. I wanted to get your identification over with first. I'll tell her this evening."

"No need, Temple. She was the patient I was going to visit this evening. It will be more appropriate for me to break the news. She knows me very well. It will come better from me."

Temple watched McBride drive off. He wished he hadn't sent Cantwell off duty earlier in the evening. He could really have done with him at that moment in time.

Ellacott's Ledger

Details in the book went back three years. The records,on one side, were of drugs ordered, quantities prescribed and costs. The opposite pages contained patient's and doctor's names and medicines prescribed.

Temple studied page after page carefully. Prior to the last eighteen months, entries seemed pretty standard. The same drugs and chemicals occurred regularly. Then, in the spring of the year before last drinomyl, sodium amytal and cocaine began to arise with greater frequency.

"Take a gander at the list of patients receiving medication, Cantwell. You know the locals well. See if there are any oddities in what they have been written up for and how often."

Cantwell looked at the long lists with dismay. Maths had never been one of his favourite subjects; numbers, in general, meant little to him. However, he took the book to his desk and thumbed through for about two hours. By then, his stomach was rumbling and his throat was dry.

"It's all double Dutch to me, Gov." He said eventually.

"Oh for God's sake, Cantwell, surely there must be something there!"

"Well, old Miss Ashfold died over a year ago. Yet, it seems she had sodium amytal tablets last month. The previous month, she had morphine."

"Show me." Temple hurriedly crossed the room to Cantwell's desk.

"Here, Gov. See. Miss Edna Ashfold, The Grove: 25 Tablets of sodium amytal and something or other of morphine - not sure what it says."

Temple seized the book. His knowledge of local people was as nothing compared to Cantwell:
"Well done! Well done, indeed."

Cantwell was astounded. Praise came rarely from Temple, so he basked in the unexpected glory.

"You know what this means, don't you? It means that Eager Beaver's comments about Ellacott and Redbourne and the dodgy dogs and horses now has some validity. All these drugs would have an impact on an animal's racing capability. Still, we'll need to talk to a local vet and the people at the Path Lab. Like you, I'm no expert in these matters."

There was a loud knock at the door. Constable Gurney came in rather nervously and cleared his throat.

"Yes?" Temple asked irritably.

"The captain of a fishing boat down at the harbour has just brought in a body, Gov. The harbour master phoned. The Superintendent thought you should know."

"Right, Gurney, thanks. We'll go right now." Once Gurney had left he turned to Cantwell. "Lock up the ledgers in the filing cabinet. Don't want anyone else nosing about in them."

The 'Jeanette' a small fishing smack was tied up to the jetty. A group of fishermen were standing round talking loudly. They went silent as soon as they saw the two policemen.

"Mornin', Tom," a young fresh faced man nodded to Cantwell. "It's Ben down there." He gestured to the deck of the 'Jeanette'.

Cantwell grunted a response: "Pull him in with the nets, did he?"

"Yeah! Poor old Pete's right shocked!"

Temple listened without comment. Instead, he turned and went down the metal ladder that went over the side of the jetty. Then, he jumped down onto the deck. Cantwell descended much more slowly, almost losing his balance as he jumped onto the swaying deck.

Peter King, captain of the 'Jeanette', stood next to a tarpaulin bundle. He spat out a plug of chewing tobacco and looked at Temple then at Cantwell.

"What you brought in, Pete?" Cantwell asked.

"One drowned man. We're pretty sure it's Ben ... Ben Ellacott. But he's in much of a mess, so tis difficult to be sure, like." He lifted the tarpaulin. The body beneath was bloated. Only the mop of blonde hair led one to believe it was Ellacott. That and shreds of a jacket that still clung to his torso.

An ambulance waited at the harbour as King fixed a hook and a rope onto the body. Two fishermen winched it up and the ambulance crew put it on a stretcher. Then, they drove off to the mortuary.

"Where did you find him?" Temple asked.

"About half a mile off shore. We were just turning back for home. We'd had a good catch but we thought we'd have one more run. It's where the river water has lost all its speed, even when it's in full spate. Often good for fishing." He paused. "Anyway, up he came. We reckon he's been in the water a good week or so."

"We'll need a statement from you. Could you do that later today? The desk sergeant will help you." The man nodded.

Sitting in the car, Temple was lost in thought for several minutes. "What do you reckon? Ellacott?"

"Yep! Pretty sure it is. Do you think it was more than just a drowning?"

"Well, I leave that sort of detail to the pathologist. But I tell you one thing, Mrs Ellacott is in no fit state to identify the body." He smiled. "We'll get our pal, Dr McBride, to do that. I'll be interested to see how he reacts."

Inside the Pharmacy

Elizabeth Beaumont reached inside a large black handbag and produced a key.

"Inspector Temple, I was given a key to the pharmacy door by old Mr Philpott, a long time before he retired. He always said that there might, one day, be an emergency and I must be able to get in." She paused and looked rather furtive. "Mr Ellacott doesn't know about my having the key. You ..."

"No, Miss Beaumont, I won't tell him." He took the key from her.

The pharmacy was neat and well organised. Shelves full of boxes containing various chemicals, liquids, powders and pills lined all four walls. Each item was carefully labelled in bold clear writing. Two large carboys filled with potassium permanganate stood either side of the hatch to the shop.

"What are we looking for, Gov?" Cantwell was overawed by the amount of containers and their contents.

"Not sure. I'd like some sort of ledger or accounts book. Those pills we found at Ellacott's place were drinomyl. There were enough to dope every horse or dog running in every race at every meeting between now and Christmas. Dodgy dogs aren't the half of it!" He looked around and shook his head. "What we need is evidence that Ellacott was fiddling his books."

An hour later, nothing useful had been found. Miss Beaumont knocked and popped her head round the door.

"Can I help, Inspector, I shall be closing the shop for lunch."

"Any idea where the ledgers and order books were kept?" She shook her head. "No hidden drawers or secret doors?" He laughed.

"Oh! How silly of me! Mr Philpott used to put the paperwork in here." She crossed the room, lifted the carpet and pulled on a metal ring in the floorboards. One of the boards lifted up and Miss Beaumont got on her hands and knees and reached down. With a look of triumph, she brought up a large rectangular wooden box. "He always said that paperwork must be kept away from any chemical spills. Maybe Mr Ellacott had the same idea.

"Well done," Cantwell rushed over to help her up and take the box.

"If you take them away, you will bring them all back before Mr Ellacottreturns, won't you?"

"Miss Beaumont, whatever happens, I don't think Mr Ellacott will be coming back here. I suspect you will have another pharmacist before too long. I give you my solemn word, everything will be in place long before then."

"Could I, at least, have a receipt for them, Inspector, for my records, you understand?"

Temple smiled and nodded: "Write out a receipt, Cantwell."

Flummoxed by the request, he searched around for his notebook, tore out a page and wrote:
'Reciept for papers taken from Pharmacey. I acknowledge that we have taken paperwork from Ellacott's Pharmacey. These papers will be returned. Signing officer: Detective Sergeant Thomas Cantwell. Date 29 June 1950'

Temple glanced at the paper, noting the spelling errors and grimacing. He handed it to Miss Beaumont who tutted twice.

"I'll send round a typed receipt tomorrow, Miss Beaumont."

Though their eyes met and each understood what the other was thinking, nothing more was said.

Cantwell and Temple left the Pharmacy and took their haul of papers to the car.