Felix’s death had been caused by drowning; there were contusions on the body consistent with a fall from the cliffs, including a bruise on the back of the head. He had had a good deal to drink before death: ouzo, it seemed. The assumption was that, under the influence of excess alcohol he had lost his footing and fallen into the sea. He had been dead about four days. ‘In this heat, Mr Grant, you understand me, the body would rise to the surface quickly,’ said Manolakis. He sat at the manager’s desk, his clever eyes watching Patrick’s response. Patrick nodded. He was satisfied that Felix had drowned; he had noticed a little froth issuing from the dead man’s nostrils before he was bundled into his blanket, after that dreadful moment of recognition. ‘He is to be sent home for burial,’ added the policeman with evident relief. ‘It is the wish of the widow.’ She would stage a tragic funeral. Well, at least Patrick need not attend. ‘Was he staying on the island?’ he asked.
