For
Detective Superintendent Steve Livings
and
Detective Sergeant Frank Waghorn
Creeping, crawling
Towards the heart.
Tearing, ripping
Apart.
Unseen, unthreatening.
Silent until the last
Until all hope is past.
Still as the frozen whiteness
before an avalanche,
Sleek as a barracuda
slicing through the ocean,
Sweet as a peach
steeped in poison.
Wrapped in a dream
of peace and passion,
Wracked with the ache
of desire –
That’s how life’s fire
Is quenched.
Unexpectedly. Inexplicably.
For death comes softly.
With thanks to:
Dr Hugh White, Home Office Pathologist; Paul Westaway, emergency officer for the West Country ambulance service; North Devon coroner Brian Hall-Tomkin (who bears absolutely no relation to the appalling coroner in this book, but could be the wise man who proceeded him), North Devon coroner’s officer Keith James (whom I’m sure would not allow any coroner to behave the way my fictional one does); Hilary Corrin, Devon County Council emergency officer; Jeremy Metcalf of the Minmet gold-mining company — and, as ever, my Avon and Somerset police friends Steve and Frank, to whom this book is dedicated.
I shall always be grateful for the extraordinarily generous way in which all of these have given me their time and the benefit of their knowledge and experience.