Mrs. Pargeter's Pound of Flesh by Simon Brett Page A

there was no reply.
    She got through to Reception and announced, with considerable self-restraint, that there had been 'an accident' in the Dead Sea Mud Bath unit. The receptionist, using those perky upward inflections with which girls at reception school are trained to greet pools wins and pogroms alike, assured her that 'someone will be down as soon as possible, madam'.
    Mrs Pargeter had no thought of leaving the unit. There was mud all over her, but cleaning-up would have to wait. A series of mountingly unpleasant conjectures about the causes of Lindy Galton's death built up in her head.
    She had made one more attempt to get the corpse out of the bath, to give it a little dignity in death, but then given up. Probably better to leave things as they were, anyway, for the inevitable police enquiry.
    So, while increasingly disturbing thoughts erupted in her mind, Mrs Pargeter sat on a bench and waited to see who would be 'down as soon as possible'.
    It was Dr Potter.
    He was as dapper as ever. A double-breasted suit in Prince of Wales check over his angular frame, suede shoes whose distinctive shape proclaimed them to be handmade.
    He took in Mrs Pargeter's presence before he looked at Cubicle Three, from which mud was still inexorably advancing over the immaculate tiles.
    'What seems to be the trouble?' he asked. (Presumably doctors are so conditioned to using that question that they have difficulty in framing others.) 'Reception said there had been some kind of accident.'
    'Yes.' Mrs Pargeter pointed to the open cubicle door and the mud-spattered area beyond.
    Dr Potter looked across and his thin face pursed with annoyance. 'If there's something wrong with the sluices, that would appear to be a job for a plumber rather than a doctor.'
    'It's not just the sluices. There's a body in the mud.'
    'What?' He turned his silt-coloured eyes on her in amazement.
    'Lindy Galton. She's under that lot – drowned.'
    Dr Potter tutted, like a bureaucrat who's found a form incorrectly filled in. 'Oh really! This kind of thing happens far too often at Brotherton Hall, you know.'
    'What – people getting killed?' Mrs Pargeter asked eagerly, thinking she really was on to something this time.
    Dr Potter quickly disabused her. 'No. Staff using the facilities without permission. It happens in the gym, the swimming-pool, everywhere. And the trouble is, they do it at times when the facilities aren't properly supervised, which raises terrible problems with insurance. It's been inevitable that something like this would happen one day.' He tutted again, then added as an afterthought. 'You're sure she is dead?'
    'Well, she looked dead to me, but then I'm not an expert.'
    'No.'
    Mrs Pargeter waited in vain for him to pick up the prompt, so continued. 'Whereas you are. I'd have thought the first thing a doctor should have done would be to pull the body out and try to revive her.'
    'Don't you start telling me what I should have done, Mrs Pargeter!' But her words had had some effect. 'Yes, I suppose I'd better take a look at her,' he conceded reluctantly. After a moment's hesitation, he removed his jacket, folded it neatly on to a bench and started towards the cubicle.
    'Surely you're going to take your shoes off?' said Mrs Pargeter. 'That stuff'll ruin them.'
    'Whether I choose to ruin my shoes or not is, I would have thought, my decision, Mrs Pargeter,' he said, placing a suede-clad foot firmly into the mud, which rose to cover it.
    'Yes, yes, of course.'
    Oblivious to the splashes on his clothes, Dr Potter took hold of the rail and reached down to grab the body. With surprising strength, he dragged Lindy Galton out of the bath in one movement, then slid her along to the central area. The manhandling scraped enough mud off to show that the girl had been naked when she got into the bath.
    Dr Potter bent over the body. No pulse-listening or breath-checking. Not even the thought of resuscitation.
    Just a quick look, and he turned to the wall telephone.
    He