Читать книгу Perfect Death - Helen Fields - Страница 15

A week had passed since Lily Eustis’ death and Callanach was no further forward in ascertaining who she’d spent the evening with before her fateful trip to Arthur’s Seat. She hadn’t been seen at any of her usual haunts. Friends had been contacted, CCTV had been checked, her mobile activity and social media were blank. A few of the numbers in her mobile contacts database were dead numbers that didn’t check out, but that was par for the course.

Ailsa had spoken with Lily’s parents again to explain the need to hold the body until the toxicology screening results were back in case further investigations were needed. Callanach had visited them, too, intruding on their terrible grief with more questions than answers, sensing the ghost they could all still see in their house. The chair Lily used to sit in to read, the way she always took the stairs two at a time, the way she sang incomprehensibly whilst cleaning her teeth. These were the little things Lily’s mother had told Callanach about. He had drunk tea, nodded, and let the words come. They might not help him resolve the questions over Lily’s death, but if it helped her mother to tell him then he would listen.

Lily’s sister Mina had sat listless on the couch, biting her nails and tugging at the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

‘She would never have thought of going there herself,’ Mina had said. ‘Someone was with her.’

‘We’re working on that basis,’ Callanach had told her. ‘But no one’s coming forward with any information. As the Chief Pathologist explained, there are no injuries and no evidence of any crime having been committed.’

‘So that’s it?’ Lily’s father had barked from an armchair in the corner, so shrouded in darkness with all the curtains closed that Callanach could barely see him.

‘Until there’s any further forensic evidence or witness testimony, yes. It’s possible that the Procurator Fiscal will ask for a sudden death report, but the Major Investigation Team won’t play any further role. A police liaison officer will be in touch today so you know who to contact with any questions.’

No one had said anything after that. Callanach had expected outrage, some display of frustration at the least, but the family was numb with loss. Callanach had stood up quietly, said his goodbyes and made his way out. Only Mina had followed him into the hallway as he’d put his shoes back on.

‘When will we get her things back?’ Mina had asked.

‘I’ll contact the city mortuary about that for you,’ Callanach had said. ‘Anything on her body or in her pockets will be in evidence, but if it’s of no significance we can release it to you.’

‘Thank you,’ she’d whispered, opening the door for him, and closing it again before he’d had a chance to turn around and say goodbye.

Callanach had been trying to get five minutes with Ava all day. It was hard getting used to her being so elusive. The days of wandering into her office and expecting her to be available to talk theories or Police Scotland politics had disappeared with her promotion. He’d left two messages on her voicemail then been reduced to emailing her.

Eventually, late Friday afternoon, she appeared at his office door.

‘You busy?’ she asked.

‘What’s the right answer?’ he replied, closing his laptop.

‘Dim sum,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it most of the day. I think dim sum may be the only thing that will make this crappy week feel marginally less awful.’

‘Get your coat,’ Callanach said.

‘I’m not sure that’s how you’re supposed to speak to a senior officer,’ Ava said over her shoulder as she walked away. Ten minutes later they met on the street, both electing to abandon their cars for the evening in favour of alcohol. ‘I’ve called a cab,’ Ava said, ‘and booked a table at the Cantonese restaurant in Abercromby Place.’

‘You did all that while I was putting on my coat?’ Callanach asked. The cab pulled up as they were talking.

‘I might have already booked the table before I came to find you,’ Ava said as she climbed in.

‘Almost as if you knew I’d have no plans on a Friday night,’ Callanach muttered as Ava told the driver where they were going.

‘Don’t be over-sensitive,’ she said turning back to Callanach. ‘I had a shortlist of five people I was considering inviting to dinner. I figured at least one would be free.’

‘Now I wish I’d played a bit harder to get,’ Callanach laughed.

‘Date night is it?’ the cabbie interjected. ‘Me and the missus used to do that every Friday ’til I got this job. It’s not the same trying to be romantic on a Tuesday evening. You two married?’

Ava looked at Callanach, opened her mouth to answer and ended up spluttering helpless laughter instead.

‘Actually, the lady’s my boss,’ Callanach said.

‘Pretty much the same as being married then,’ the cabbie winked. Five minutes later, he pulled the cab over and they climbed out. ‘You’d make a nice looking couple though, maybe you should think about it. You two have a nice evening,’ he said, pulling away.

Ava stared after the car, hands on hips. ‘Do you ever go anywhere without people telling you how good looking you are?’ she asked.

‘That was directed at you, too,’ Callanach responded. ‘Can we please go and eat now?’

‘I wish I hadn’t tipped him,’ she said.

‘You really can’t just take it as a compliment?’ Callanach grinned.

‘What, someone thinking we’re married? If I didn’t need a drink before, I certainly do now. You’re buying, by the way, because I know how painful the next hour’s going to be with the waitresses flirting with you.’

‘I have a way to deal with that,’ Callanach said. ‘Come on. Let’s see if we can improve your mood with some saturated fat.’

‘I’ve been waiting for a man to say those words to me all my life,’ Ava said, striding past him into the restaurant, hanging her coat on a peg without waiting to be asked and taking the best table in the front window.

‘Excuse me madam, that table is laid for four. I wonder if you’d mind moving to the table at the back, please?’

Callanach watched Ava’s face change as she peered towards the back of the restaurant, checking out the smaller table between the kitchen door and the corridor to the toilets. Whilst Ava was usually the least pretentious woman he knew, tonight was probably not the time for anyone to mess with her. He stepped forward.

‘Do you mind?’ He smiled at the waitress.

She beamed at him, giving a small giggle for no particular reason. ‘Yes, sir. How can I help?’

‘It’s mine and my wife’s anniversary,’ he said, motioning towards Ava. ‘We really wanted this particular table. Could you accommodate us, do you think?’

‘I didn’t realise you were together.’ The waitress moved aside and pulled a chair out for him. ‘And yes, of course, as it’s a special occasion. Champagne, then?’ she asked.

‘Naturally,’ he replied, trying to ignore Ava sitting with her hands over her face. The waitress hustled away to fetch a bottle and the appropriate glasses.

‘You see? No one’s going to flirt with me now that I’m with my wife, celebrating – how many years is it?’ he asked.

‘If it wouldn’t hit the press in the morning, I’d think I’d prefer you to have said I’d hired you as an escort,’ Ava said, glaring at the menu. ‘I really don’t care what I eat. It all looks good.’ The waitress put glasses on the table and began pouring the champagne. ‘My husband will order for me,’ Ava simpered. ‘He’s wonderful at that!’

‘We’ll take a selection of the dim sum,’ Callanach said. ‘Whatever the chef recommends.’ As the waitress disappeared, he raised his glass. ‘To lost friends,’ he said gently. ‘How are you doing? You’ve been hard to find this week. I was worried about you.’

Ava tried to paint on a tough smile, lost the battle halfway through and looked down at her lap. ‘It hasn’t been great. I thought it was hard losing my mum last summer. Now the Chief has gone too and I feel like a fraud sitting at his desk, hearing his voice telling me to buck my ideas up and get on with it. I spent so much time with him over the years. I suppose we don’t always appreciate it, but the police force is like family. You don’t like everyone, wouldn’t choose half of them, but they’re always there, good or bad. Begbie was one of the good ones.’

She drained her glass of champagne and Callanach refilled it.

‘How’s his wife getting on? I know you were close to both her and the Chief. It must be hard watching her grieve,’ he said.

‘Glynis is one of a kind. Married to the police force as much as to one single policeman. She’s being remarkably stoic at the moment, but I’m worried how she’ll cope longer term. They completed each other, if that’s not too much of a cliché. The Chief was her whole world.’

‘How lucky that they found each other. There are a lot of people at the station asking about the funeral. What are the plans?’ Luc asked.

‘Full uniform honours, but it’s only open to close colleagues and friends,’ Ava said. ‘Glynis had another blow today. She’s been told their life insurance won’t pay out because it was a suicide with no suggestion of mental illness, not even depression or short-term psychological disturbance. She’ll have to move in with her daughter as she can’t afford the mortgage. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.’

‘I hadn’t even thought about the finances,’ Callanach said. ‘To have to deal with that on top of her husband’s death. Isn’t there anything we can do?’

‘Short of finding a decent source of income for her for the next twenty years, not really,’ Ava said. ‘There’s her share of the Chief’s pension, but it’s not enough for both the mortgage payments and to keep Glynis comfortable for the next twenty years. She was always a wife and mother, never had a career of her own, so she has no personal money to fall back on. Food! I’m starving.’ A stack of dim sum baskets were placed in the centre of their table. ‘I don’t know if it’s just me, but grief makes me eat constantly. I’ve consumed more calories in the last … oh, Luc, I’m so sorry. I haven’t even asked. What happened with your mother? I really must be losing my mind.’

‘Yup. So far you’re making a pretty inattentive wife,’ he said, tipping a pool of soy sauce onto his plate. ‘You can stop apologising. As it happens there’s not much to say. She regrets not standing by me. Apparently, Astrid got to her as well. Acted the part of victim very convincingly. My mother couldn’t see through the false evidence, so she ran. That’s all. These prawn things are good. Are you going to drink that entire bottle of champagne on your own?’

‘Don’t do that,’ Ava said.

‘Do what? You asked me out for dinner. I’m eating.’

‘Change the subject,’ Ava said. ‘I know how hard this has been for you. She didn’t explain any more than that? Why hasn’t she responded to you since you were acquitted? All those times you tried to get in touch. She must have given some sort of explanation.’

‘Not really. She kept saying it was hard for her, that she needed more time, which is bizarre in the circumstances,’ Callanach said, refilling his own glass before motioning to the waitress for another bottle.

‘That’s it?’ Ava asked. ‘After all this time, why reappear now?’ She took the new bottle from the waitress’ hands and refilled both glasses, draining hers immediately.

‘She said she wanted to explain, then she didn’t. Not in a way that made sense. Can we change the subject now, please? I liked it better when I was annoying you,’ Callanach said.

‘No, we can’t. You should talk to her again. Get to the bottom of it. If you leave it like this it’ll haunt you,’ Ava said.

‘I’m not sure there’s anything left to say. She’s at the Radisson until tomorrow, then I guess she’s going back to Monaco. It took me a long time to get used to the fact that she’d given up on me. I’m not sure I can turn back the clock.’

‘Not sure you can or not sure you want to?’ Ava asked, piling more tiny parcels of spicy prawns onto her plate. ‘Take it from me, trying to repair years of misunderstandings when you’re about to lose someone you love is a disaster. I should know – I couldn’t have made worse decisions when my mum was dying. I’d like to stop you from making similar mistakes.’

‘I’d like to think I’m able to stay rational, even when emotions are involved,’ Callanach said. ‘And I agree, you did make some terrible misjudgements in the past.’

‘Sod off, then. I’ve tried to help. If you’re just going to be rude, I’m going to eat in silence until I burst. This is good champagne.’ Ava refilled her glass again.

‘You know you’ve drunk a bottle of champagne in less than an hour, right?’

‘Save the detective skills for solving cases. Right, all the food’s gone and the alcohol supply is diminishing. I am going to the ladies’ room while you settle the bill then we’ll move this party along.’ Ava stood up, threw her napkin onto her plate and walked off clutching her mobile.

Ten minutes later a cab pulled up outside the restaurant. Ava sighed.

‘You again?’ she asked, looking through the driver’s window.

‘Did you have a nice meal? Only it didn’t take very long,’ the cabbie said.

Ava ignored him. ‘The booking office told you where we’re headed, I take it?’

‘Aye, gave me all the details. I was surprised to be seeing you both again so soon. I thought you’d be taking your time with the meal and everything. It’s a nice place, that. Did you think about what I said?’ He grinned at Callanach.

‘I’ll tip you again but only if you agree not to talk for the remainder of the journey,’ Ava said.

‘Fair enough,’ the driver agreed. ‘It’ll only be five minutes. Traffic’s light tonight.’

* * *

The taxi pulled up where the High Street met South Bridge, while Ava and Callanach were busy talking police funding.

‘This isn’t where I live,’ Callanach said.

‘I’m aware of that. It’s where your mother’s staying,’ Ava replied.

‘Not happening,’ Callanach replied calmly but firmly. ‘But I can walk home from here, so this’ll do.’ He got out, holding the door for Ava. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s no quick solution. If the problem between my mother and me ever resolves itself, it’s going to take more than a quick chat. You can’t fix everything.’

‘I need to fix something,’ she said. ‘The Chief didn’t come and talk to me about whatever was going on with him. My own mother kept her symptoms from me for months, even though she was terminally ill. I keep thinking that maybe if we’d been closer, if I’d been a better daughter, she’d have confided in me. Maybe they could have treated the cancer before it was too late.’

‘You weren’t at fault, and this isn’t the same thing. Let me call you another cab. It’s too far for you to walk to your place from here.’

‘I’m cold,’ Ava said. ‘And I need a proper drink. At least let me buy you a single malt. The bar in here is warm and comfortable. It won’t kill you to walk through the door. I’m not ready to go home yet.’

Callanach wondered if that had been the plan all along, before she’d even walked into his office and invited him to dinner. Ava was rarely taken unawares, her brain usually ten steps ahead of everyone else’s. That was what made her such an impressive police officer. Even so, she was intruding on a deeply personal situation, but he wasn’t ready for the emptiness of his apartment yet either. His mother had never been one for bars, rarely drinking unless they were dining with friends. He wasn’t even sure she was still at the hotel. Chances were that she’d left town early.

‘One drink,’ he said. ‘Then I’m getting you home.’

‘Deal,’ Ava said, walking ahead of him through reception and turning right into the hotel bar.

They sat on stools. It was busy but not packed, the bulk of casual diners already finishing dessert or drinking coffee, their conversation a friendly hum in the background.

‘Two Laphroaigs please,’ Ava directed the barman. ‘No spoiling it with water or ice.’

‘You sure you wouldn’t prefer it straight from the bottle?’ Callanach asked.

‘You can lecture me about French wine when we’re in France. Never lecture a Scot about whisky. It’s apt to end up with a trip to get stitches.’

‘Luc?’ a voice said softly from behind them.

Callanach stared at Ava.

‘It’s no good looking daggers at me,’ Ava said. ‘It’s not as if you weren’t aware I never take no for an answer.’

‘You had no right.’ He leaned across to whisper in her ear.

‘I accept that,’ Ava said. ‘I also know that if you really hadn’t wanted to stand any chance of seeing your mother you wouldn’t have walked into this hotel with me. So say goodbye or hear her out, whichever suits you best. Just make a decision.’ She turned around. ‘Madame Callanach,’ she held out her hand, ‘I’m Ava Turner, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’ll leave you to it. I suspect I’ve already done more than enough.’

‘You certainly have,’ Callanach replied.

Ava smiled, picked up her glass and tossed back the Laphroaig. ‘Take it easy,’ she told Callanach. ‘Nice to have met you,’ she said to Véronique, slipping her coat back on before exiting.

‘I see. Your colleague didn’t tell you she’d phoned me,’ Véronique said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to trick you into seeing me.’

‘Well, I’m here now,’ Callanach said. ‘So if there’s something else you wanted to say, now would be the time.’

‘Shall we go up to my room? It’s quieter there. I’m not really sure this is the place …’

‘I’m leaving in a couple of minutes. You may not want to waste time travelling between floors. Here is fine. There’s a table by the window.’ He picked up his drink and walked away from the bar, silently cursing Ava’s inability to restrict her meddling. They sat down. ‘What was it you wanted to say?’

His mother stared out of the window. ‘I don’t know how to begin,’ she said. ‘I want to repair the damage I’ve done. I want my son back.’

‘Is there something you need to say that I haven’t already heard?’ Callanach asked. ‘Because I’m not here to repeat the conversation we had at my flat. You said you needed more time and I’m afraid it’s run out.’ He pushed his drink away across the table.

‘Luc, please,’ his mother said, reaching out to him. ‘I can’t stand the thought of losing you forever. There’ll be nothing left to live for.’

‘I felt like that too, when you left me. At least we have that in common. This is a waste of both of our time.’ He stood up. ‘Goodbye, Véronique. Safe journey home.’

‘Luc, no. There’s no easy way to tell you this. It was a long time ago, and I never talked about it. When Astrid accused you, her story brought it all back and I couldn’t cope.’ She paused, ran a shaking hand over her mouth, lowered her voice. ‘I was raped, a long time ago, but it never leaves you. I had no idea what Astrid told me would affect me so badly. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me, but it was all too much. I know I failed you. Whatever I have to do for you to forgive me, I will.’