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The body was suspended from a circular utensil rack, hanging in amongst a cluster of copper-bottomed saucepans. Its location was perfectly placed between two food preparation counters. The man’s weight strained the ageing leather belt as it supported the motionless body. The stench of death permeated to every corner of the room. Detective Chief Inspector Borage looked up at the man, hanging by the neck, in what had once been a stylish kitchen, until someone had trashed it. He contemplated the scene before him. Was it suicide, or was it murder? Either way, it was a sad way to die. To make matters worse. The man was one of England’s most acclaimed celebrity chefs. His death would send the nation’s media into a frenzy. He knew they would not rest until they had someone of their own to hang for this crime for the world to see, metaphorically speaking, of course. Borage thought back to the 16th April, two months earlier, when for him this case had begun. He wondered if he could have prevented this man’s death. What more could he have done? |
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