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8 Happy Easter Tribute cont'd from pg. 6 was finishing, to Renie Singh, the Head Nurse of Out Patients, whom he had befriended when she had first started at the hospital, three years before, still not com- pletely comfortable with western ways, and longing for her home in India. He had always made it a point to know the name of all the hospital staff, and of enquiring about their families. And his interest was genuine, for never having married, he looked upon the staff of the hospital as his extended family. Although they had been happy for him when he retired as coroner, they had thought to miss seeing him around the hospital, so it was no surprise that those who could spare a minute or two, dropped in at coroner's office in the basement, to have a word with him. Jeremy, his plan to get an early start on studying the various test results from the lab work he had had done in the hospital lab, on Agnes's remains, disrupted by those dropping by to chat with him, decided to put these visitors to good use. Somewhere out inthe community, was a killer. A killer who could go undetected if some little clue did not surface from a comment made quite innocently, that would set off a discordant chime in his mind. That's how it was with being a coroner and searching out the less obvious reason for death. Sometimes it was that casual remark mede in conversation, that set his mind off on the right course. He was not going to get any work done, so he might as well fish for a *live one" from the pool of conver- sation. The office door pushed open, and a white clad back eased through, then turned to reveal the Director of Nursing, carrying a tray of coffee and muffins. "The coffee's fresh .... just made, and the muffins are so hot from the oven, they'll burn your fingers. And | brought real butter." She set the tray on his desk. *Maggie dear, you are a friend in deed," he punned. "Or is this the only place you can hide and have a peaceful cuppa?" *A bit of both," she admitted, pouring them each a cup from the carafe, and handing him his. "Now come on, tell me everything you know about Agnes's death. She was my chemistry tutor in high-school. | really locked up te her when | was a girl." "She was found dead in the chancel of St. Anne's. Her death appears to have not been accidental or of natural causes. | suspect some toxin that Is out of the ordinary, but nothing has showed up on the tests we have done here. At least in none that | have looked at so far" He sipped his coffee. "And if it was a toxin, how was it introduced?" "You'llfind it." Margaret took a muffin and buttered it with a generous hand. "But you're sure it was a toxin?" "Well no, I'm not. | just don't find any natural cause for her death. Neither her heart, lungs nor liver show any damage that could have caused such a sudden death. Tissue samples checked here didn't show anything that one wouldn't expect to find." He took a bight of a muffin. "| admit I'm a bit baffled." "Sounds like something Gladys o'Sullivan and | were talking about this morning. There was a case ... oh maybe ten years ago ... Had the coroner baified. Turned out to be a rare heart condition .... something that brought on bouts of heart arrythmia.* "Must have been before | took over as coroner Dr. Fegan chewed meditatively on his muffin. *You don't remember who it was?" "We tried to remember, but it was some years ago and none of us could puta name to the case." She gave a ruefuil laugh, "you must remember that most of us old birds have retired. There's only four or five of us who have been here more than ten years" "Yes, | guess we're not getting any younger," he agreed, "but I'm sure we're getting better." "If the name comes to me, I'll let you know...." Her pager beeped, "Damn, | never can get lostwith this thing on. Must run." she fled out the door, the image of instant efficiency. Before Jeremy could pour himself another coffee or the door to his office could completely close, another col- league stuck his head around the door. "Morning Jeremy. Did | see Struthers sneak in here a few minutes ago? Ah good, coffee ... but no clean cup." *l just happen to have some clean styrofoam cups in the desk drawer," Jeremy opened a side drawer and pulled out alseeve of white cups. "Someone always spots the coffee arriving here, but never brings their own cup," Jeremy said, casting a meaningful glance at his latest visitor. "Now Jeremy, do | look the sort that always carries a cup in their pocket? | ask you?" the man asked with an air of mock injury. "I hear you've got Agnes Turley in your freezer." Although the man spoke of the dead woman with a certain flipancy, Freddy Hastings, was a good general surgeon and a concerned medical practitioner. *Not in your pocket perhaps, but I'm surprised to see you without one in your hand." He poured hie friend acu of coffee and handed him the dish with the packets of sugar and containers of cream. "Yes I've got Agnes here. | noticed a surgical scar and she's missing her gaul bladder. Your work?" "Yes, from about twenty years ago. I'm much neater now." "Ever see her for anything else?" Freddy thought for a moment. "Yes, come te think of it, I did. She was referred to me about three years ago." "Do you remember why?" "Anson ... she was his patient you know .. he referred her tc me as a possible candidate for a hysterectomy. There was some vaginal bleeding that needed explaining. Turns out that brute she was married to had come home drunk. He'd raped her. Then when she had tried to get away from him he had kicked her a couple of times in the lower abdomen. There was a tear in the wall of her uterus. | watched her for a while, but it healed and except for some adhessions that developed and would cause her some problems later, perhaps, she seemed to recover fine."