Читать книгу Perfect Death - Helen Fields - Страница 13

Ava met Callanach in the city mortuary carpark. She waited, leaning on her car, as he parked his.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Ava asked as he got out.

‘No,’ he said. ‘How did the briefing go?’

‘Everyone’s still in shock. Most of the squad worked directly with the Chief at some point. I think there’s a softly spoken consensus that retiring after his heart attack was what killed him. All those years in the thick of things and he ends up with golf club membership and on a diet he hated. Hardly a replacement for the adrenalin and single malt he was used to. Let’s go in. Ailsa has stayed late for us.’

They walked into the mortuary, the clinical, chemical smell extending just beyond its external glass doors as if issuing an olfactory ‘abandon hope’ warning. Dr Ailsa Lambert was in her office, her assistant looking tired as he drew on his coat and bade them goodnight. Ava knocked.

‘Ailsa,’ Ava said. ‘Are you ready for us?’

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘I’d offer you both a drink only I won’t allow alcohol on the premises. If ever I needed it though …’ she stopped herself, picking up a file labelled DCI George Begbie. ‘Let’s start with this. I’m entirely convinced that George’s cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning. There are no injuries or findings inconsistent with that, internal or external. The toxicology samples will be picked up from here tomorrow and sent away for analysis but I’ve done an alcohol test on his blood. He was sober. I don’t just mean below the driving limit. I mean there was no alcohol in his blood at all. When he made the decision to take his life, he did it entirely consciously.’

‘Something must have triggered it,’ Ava said. ‘You found no other signs of illness? Nothing that would cause him to lose hope sufficiently to believe suicide was the only way out?’

‘There are no tumours, his organs – even given his heart condition – are all in reasonable order. I phoned his GP. He’d had a comprehensive check-up recently, blood tests and all. Came back clear. The notes indicate that George was in good spirits, no problems with his mood, sleeping, eating, even his cholesterol was dropping. Apparently, he was planning a surprise holiday for his wife Glynis on their anniversary. The GP has been seeing them both for years. She’s as shocked as we are,’ Ailsa said.

‘So he drove to the coast, hooked a length of hose-pipe up to the back of his car and sat there dying, knowing Glynis was cooking dinner for him. He was stone cold sober, in spite of the empty whisky bottle in his car, with no known problems. For Christ’s sake, Ailsa, it makes no sense,’ Ava said.

‘I’m aware of that,’ Ailsa said. ‘There is the matter of the markings on the inside of his left wrist.’ She clicked the screen and produced a blown-up photo of the area. ‘It’s clearer in this photograph than to the naked eye because we’ve been able to filter out some of the colour. You can see here that the capital N was formed of scratches, making three separate lines. They are quite deep violations of the epidermis, consisting of multiple scratches along each line. The small c is formed of a single curve, repeated several times in the same place.’ She clicked again and the c came up magnified. ‘You can see here that at the top part of the curve, the scratch was so deep that it had begun to draw blood. It would have taken some effort to do that without a tool or implement.’

‘Without a tool?’ Callanach asked. ‘You mean he …’

‘He used his right index finger. The scratched off particles of skin were found under the nail, sufficient to see without a microscope. Obviously, we’ve sent that for DNA testing but there’s really no doubt that he did this to himself.’

‘I have no idea what the c stands for,’ Ava said. ‘I’ve seen carbon monoxide poisoning victims before, but I don’t know much about the process before death. What sort of state would he have been in, once the car started to fill with gas?’

‘He’d have become increasingly groggy, disoriented. Concentration would have been difficult and he’d have been feeling extremely nauseous,’ Ailsa said.

‘So perhaps the letter sizing was just a symptom of his confusion,’ Ava said. ‘Perhaps they were both supposed to be capitals.’

‘You think they’re initials?’ Callanach asked. Ava nodded. ‘Anyone spring to mind?’

‘Not immediately,’ Ava said. ‘I’ll put Tripp on it in the morning.’

‘Ava,’ Ailsa said quietly. ‘There’s no evidence of a crime here. What we have is a tragedy. A desperate event for his family to endure, but my report will say that there are no suspicious circumstances.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Ava said. ‘It’s totally out of character and this thing on his arm …’

‘Could have been scratched at any time in the few hours preceding his death and might be totally unrelated. Or it could be an indicator that he wasn’t in his right mind at the time. It’s not evidence of foul play.’

‘It certainly warrants investigation,’ Ava said. ‘I’m not prepared to accept that this is a non-suspicious death.’

‘I’ve been asked to copy in Detective Superintendent Overbeck,’ Ailsa said. ‘I have no choice. Subject to the tox screen results, my preliminary findings indicate that that body should be released for burial or cremation. George’s family will suffer enough. There’s no reason to keep them waiting.’

‘Ailsa, you can keep this open a while. I know you can. I’m a Detective Chief Inspector. If I can’t decide what to investigate and what not, then …’

‘Ava,’ Callanach said. ‘You can’t ask Dr Lambert to write anything other than her honest opinion. She’s right about the Chief’s wife. Glynis needs to be allowed to grieve. Turning this into something it’s not will only make it harder for her.’

‘You’re right,’ Ava said. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘I’m sorry, Ailsa, I didn’t come here intending to pressure you. I just need to get this straight in my head. Luc, what was it that you needed to run through?’ she asked, looking away.

‘Lily Eustis. The young woman found dead near Arthur’s Seat. Do you have an update on her?’ Callanach asked, concealing his concern for Ava.

Ailsa Lambert was less concerned with how her behaviour was perceived, as ever, staring openly at Ava as Callanach spoke. ‘Right, Lily, poor girl. I’ve spoken to her parents this evening. They’re going to need more answers than I can supply, but essentially cause of death was major organ failure as a result of hypothermia. No surprise really. Out at night in December, on a hilltop in these temperatures the outcome was almost inevitable. I visited the scene, though. Someone had built a small fire. That should have kept her warm for a while.’

‘She was found naked,’ Callanach said. ‘It would have taken some fire to have kept her warm in those circumstances.’

‘The nakedness might have been a result of the hypothermia,’ Ailsa said. ‘It’s called paradoxical undressing. A person becomes disoriented with the increasing cold and begins discarding their clothing, thereby increasing the rapidity of heat loss.’

‘So she wasn’t dragged up there against her will?’ Callanach asked.

‘I can tell you that she was not assaulted, sexually or violently. There are no defensive injuries, no wounds. In fact she was a healthy young lady, good muscle tone, virtually no fat on her …’ Ailsa trailed off.

‘You sound hesitant,’ Callanach said. ‘What is it?’

‘Probably nothing,’ Ailsa replied, typing as she spoke. ‘But for argument’s sake, say I was experiencing moderate to severe stage hypothermia, enough to make me strip off my clothing and throw it down the hillside. What sort of state am I in?’

‘Agitated. Probably distressed. Frantic even,’ Callanach guessed.

‘Exactly,’ Ailsa replied, pointing to another photo on the screen. Lily Eustis lay on the ground as Callanach had first seen her, on her back, fully naked, shades of blue already darkening to black, arms out at her sides, as if she had just fallen asleep.

‘What’s your point, Ailsa?’ Ava asked.

‘She doesn’t look distressed or frantic here, does she?’ Ailsa asked. ‘She looks as if she’d decided she was a wee bit tired and wanted to take a nap. Her body isn’t folded up, twisted, scrabbling. Certainly there are no signs of terminal burrowing syndrome that can occur near death, during which she would have been curling up, seeking shelter, making herself as small as possible. There’s nothing unexpected beneath her fingernails. No dirt, no skin. There is only a single mark on her skin, about two centimetres long over her abdomen, which is the imprint of a zip.’

Callanach looked down at his own notes. ‘The log shows she was wearing zip-fastening jeans. We have them in the evidence vault.’

‘Exactly. It’s as if she was struggling with the zipper for a long time, perhaps in her confusion becoming clumsy and pressing the metal into her skin as she tried to get the jeans off. Other than that she’s exceptionally clean, as if she never experienced any trauma through the whole process of losing heat and passing away.’

‘You say that as if it’s a bad thing,’ Ava snapped. ‘Are we supposed to have wanted her to be traumatised?’

‘Of course we are,’ Ailsa said, ignoring Ava’s irritated tone. ‘The human instinct is to fight death, to run from danger. They also call terminal burrowing from hypothermia hide-or-die syndrome. Her body position, the very state of her, makes no sense to me.’ Ava sighed heavily. ‘Lily’s toxicology screen will go off tomorrow at the same time as George Begbie’s specimens. Before then I wouldn’t like to speculate.’

‘If you’re convinced Lily died of hypothermia, why run a tox screen?’ Callanach asked.

‘There was a slight odour to her stomach contents. Nothing I can be certain about, and it’s hard to tell with the variety of food and drink available, but I thought I smelled something odd on her skin too. It was fleeting. Gone as soon as she was out of the body bag. As I said, I won’t speculate now.’

‘All right,’ Callanach said. ‘Tox screen involving what?’

‘Hair, liver, bile, vitreous humour and the gastric contents, obviously. Blood and urine as standard. Some skeletal samples for good measure,’ Ailsa said. ‘That’s as far as I can take Lily’s case at the moment. Questions?’

They both shook their heads, Ava putting her coat on before Ailsa had even switched off her screen. Callanach said goodbye as Ava made her way into the corridor.

‘Ava,’ he called, catching up with her as she hustled out of the exit into the carpark. ‘You were a bit tough on Ailsa back there.’

‘I was assessing the cases,’ she said.

‘I know that, but Ailsa worked with the Chief longer than almost anyone in MIT. If she thought there was reason for suspicion, she’d be pursuing it.’

‘You finished?’ Ava asked. Callanach didn’t bother to respond. ‘Good. Now I’ve got work to do and you’ve had a difficult day. I suggest you go home. Follow up with Lily Eustis’ parents tomorrow morning. Leave an update on my desk.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Callanach replied. This time Ava didn’t bother to correct him as she climbed into her car and sped away.