by Carol Wyer
‘Did she seem depressed to you at all?’
‘No! What? Are you saying she killed herself? She wouldn’t do that.’ Her voice rose in indignation.
‘She never mentioned taking her own life?’ Natalie asked again.
Rhiannon shook her head. ‘Never.’
‘Tell me what else you can about Fran.’
‘She was a great friend.’ Rhiannon’s voice cracked and her voice became thick with emotion.
‘I understand you were best friends and you’ll want to be loyal to her memory, but if she was involved in anything we should know about, please tell me.’
‘She wasn’t involved in anything. Honestly. She only wanted to get a degree and move on.’
‘What about her relationship with her housemates?’
‘She got on well with them.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘Apart from Gemma.’
‘She put up with Gemma. Gemma was full-on, if you know what I mean? Fran was actually quite introverted and backed off from people like that. She got along with Evie and Taylor and a couple of others on the same course as us, and Hattie.’
‘About Hattie, have you heard from her?’
‘No. Is she okay?’
‘We’re trying to locate her. She told Fran she was going to stay with an old schoolfriend.’
‘I don’t know anything about that. Hattie can be a bit… dreamy at times and does stuff like that. She’ll suddenly go off to join a march or protest about a windfarm. She probably has gone to visit one of her hippy friends.’
‘Do you know anything about Hattie helping a homeless charity?’
The girl snivelled again and replied miserably, ‘Yes, we all helped out for a week. Hattie was raising awareness and roped us all in: me, Fran and Gemma. She’s always supporting one good cause or another and none of us really wanted to do it but it was okay. Fran really got into it. She even considered signing up to help more often but she was already on the student social committee so it was a bit much, especially as we’re both top of the list for jobs at the students’ union bar… to earn money to rent together over the holidays.’
The girl started to cry harder. Natalie had to get her to refocus. ‘You only did the volunteer work for a week?’
Rhiannon choked back the sobs and rubbed under her eyes where her make-up was running. ‘Yes. Hattie does it regularly. Once a week, I think.’
‘What’s the name of the charity?’
‘Samford Help for Homeless.’
Natalie would pass the name on to Murray if he hadn’t already found out about it. There might be some connection between the girls and the charity, or the people they’d met while delivering food.
‘You said Fran was quite shy.’
‘She was.’
‘Did she have any serious relationships during her time at Samford?’
‘She really liked Ryan but no, there’s been no one I know about.’ She scrubbed her shaved head, grazing it with her nails. ‘Though maybe there was somebody. A couple of weeks ago, I was chilling in her room and suggested we went out together later that day. She got all cagey and said she was meeting somebody else later. It wasn’t like her to be secretive, so I messed about a bit and kept on at her and I asked, just as a joke mind you, if she was seeing a married man. Well, she totally lost it with me. I was shocked but I saw her the following day and everything was fine. She never mentioned it again and I didn’t bring it up.’
‘You have no idea who it might have been?’
‘No. I didn’t ask again. I didn’t want to fall out with her. She was my best mate.’ She stopped talking and looked miserably at Natalie.
‘Has she had any run-ins with anybody recently?’
‘I can’t think of any.’
‘She didn’t mention any problems with any other students or any unwanted attention?’
Rhiannon’s eyes had filled again and she struggled to reply. ‘No.’
Lucy left the room to get some tissues for the girl.
‘What about her housemates? Did she have disagreements with them?’ Natalie asked.
‘Nothing major, only about whose turn it was to clean the bathroom or kitchen.’
‘Did she complain about any of them?’
‘Only Gemma and only when she was annoyed with her. Fran wasn’t mean at all. It’s going to be dreadful without her. I don’t have any other friends. None like her.’
Lucy reappeared, a toilet roll in her hand. ‘I got this from the downstairs bathroom.’ She passed it to Rhiannon, who took it, pulled off several strips and blew her nose.
‘What time are you expecting the others to come home? We’d like to talk to them too.’
‘I really don’t know. I didn’t speak to any of them today other than to say hi. I’m not especially friends with them. I talk to Libby sometimes but she’s rarely here. She’s nearly always on campus, working. That’s why I went around to see Fran as often as I did.’
‘You don’t have contact details for them?’
‘Not without my phone.’ She shook her head and sniffed again. ‘When can I have my phone back? I want to speak to my da.’
Natalie noted she hadn’t said she was going to ring her mother. ‘I’ll see if the lab has finished with it, and if they have, we’ll return it and your laptop later today.’
Katherine, who’d been silent throughout, now spoke quietly. ‘You can use my phone, Rhiannon.’ The girl nodded thanks.
Natalie was done for the moment. ‘Thank you for talking to us.’ She studied the girl’s face, which was dropping in misery. Rhiannon dabbed under her eyes with fresh pieces from the toilet roll and raised her eyes to Natalie.
‘I can’t believe this; Gemma and Fran dead, and Hattie gone. What’s happening?’
‘We’re getting to the bottom of it. I’d like you to stay here for the rest of the evening. We’ve contacted the university and Katherine will talk you through what’ll happen regarding studies and counselling services. If you think of anything at all that you think is relevant, ring this number,’ said Natalie, and she passed a business card to the girl. ‘Have you any questions you want to ask us?’
‘No.’
‘If you think of any after we’ve gone, either ask Katherine or write them down and we’ll answer them next time we come by. And one last thing, if any journalists contact you, please don’t speak to them.’
They left Rhiannon with the counsellor and headed up the road to confront Lennox and Ryan once more. As they walked along the pavement, Natalie rang Mike.
‘Has anyone had a chance to examine Fran’s mobile yet?’
‘It’s on the table as we speak.’
‘Her friend, Rhiannon, thinks Fran was seeing a man, possibly a married one. Would you let me know if there’s anything on it to suggest who he was?’
‘Certainly shall. I heard back from the officers I sent to Fran’s room a short while ago. There’s no sign of a farewell note or a letter from a secret admirer.’
‘Nothing?’
‘They checked her desk, bookcase and folders but didn’t find anything.’
‘Then we still don’t know if she intended taking her life or if she was killed. Shit! Okay, thanks. I’ll try the mobile provider for a list of contact numbers. I’ll talk to you later.’
She hadn’t intended to sound brusque but she knew Mike would understand. This was an investigation and there was no place for anything other than professionalism. She rang Ian and requested contact details from Fran’s mobile provider.
‘I’ve already asked for them. They came in five minutes ago and I’m working my way through them now. I’ve also been through her social media accounts and found nothing to hint she was considering taking her own life.’
‘Rhiannon seems to think that’s unlikely too.’
‘Reckon Fran could have been murdered then?’
‘It’s looking increasingly like a possibility. Is Murray in the office?’
‘Yes, I’ll put him o
n.’ There was a murmuring and the phone was passed across. Murray came onto the line.
‘Natalie?’
‘You might already know but we think Hattie was doing some volunteer work for Samford Help for Homeless.’
‘That’s right. I spoke to Julietta Michigan, who runs the charity. Hattie began volunteering a month ago. She started out helping every evening then cut it down to Wednesdays only, because of her studies. She delivered hot meals and clothes collected from the office at eight and then distributed them. She and Julietta worked together as a team, apart from last Wednesday. Julietta had a heavy cold and Hattie went alone. I said I’d talk to her later to get further details but she has no idea where Hattie is either, only that she’s expecting her as usual this coming Wednesday.’
‘No sightings of Hattie?’
‘Nothing.’
‘This is crazy. What about her car?’
‘Nothing.’
‘We need to step this up and involve MisPers. Sort it out for me, will you? I want her details sent to every station.’
‘I’ll arrange that. Wait a minute. Ian wants to talk to you again.’
Natalie couldn’t make out the exchange between them but Ian’s voice had altered and sounded wary. ‘You’re not going to like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘David’s telephone number is on this call list. Fran contacted David several times over the last four weeks.’
Chapter Eighteen
Sunday, 18 November – Night
Natalie called her son from the car to warn him she would be home late but made no mention of David. Josh sounded upbeat and said in that case, he wouldn’t head back to the flat until nine, but would hopefully catch her before he went to bed. Neither Lennox nor Ryan were at home, and she and Lucy were heading back to the station, where she’d await David’s arrival for another interview. The idea he was involved in this case was preposterous, yet faced with facts, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that he was; until she could clear his name, he was a suspect.
The Sunday evening traffic had eased with most folk back in their homes, preparing for the new week, and the squad car raced through green traffic lights, past the lit supermarket car park where a group of skateboarders, in traditional skateboarding uniform, including baseball caps with peaks facing the rear, used the disabled ramp and tarmac to show off their abilities. Natalie idly watched a lad pop his board away from him, kick and flip it 180 degrees before landing squarely on it. The movement was fast and slick and had clearly been practised numerous times. Josh had never shown any interest in the activity and she’d been glad. She hadn’t wanted him to entertain anything that might result in broken bones. Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by Pinkney, who rang her mobile. She put it on speakerphone so Lucy could hear what he had to say.
‘I’ve not completed the full post-mortem yet but I think I know how Fran died,’ he said. ‘I believe she ingested a harmful substance, and my suspicions are based on three important discoveries. The first, acute oesophageal mucosal injury in the form of lesions and red spots undoubtedly caused by ingestion of an acid. The second, her stomach contains close to a litre of acid fluid which is dark in colour and contains blood clots, or what we call grume, which look like coffee grounds. Lastly, her kidneys are showing significant signs of renal failure. I can’t be positive without a toxicology report, but I’d say these all point to one substance – oxalic acid.’
‘What do you know about it?’ Natalie asked.
‘It’s a tasteless white crystalline substance that dissolves in water to create a colourless solution. Less than a teaspoon of this stuff would kill an adult. It’s also inherent in some foods such as broccoli, sprouts, spinach, peanuts, cucumbers and even potatoes and tea, although in such minor amounts as to not harm humans. It is, however, also present in slightly higher amounts in rhubarb leaves, which you may know are harmful to eat. Apparently, during the First World War, people ate the leaves as a vegetable and died of too much oxalic acid.’
‘Could Fran have done the same? Eaten too much of it?’
‘No. There was only liquid in her stomach. She hadn’t eaten anything for at least four to five hours. I’d say she drank it.’
‘Thank you, Pinkney. I’ll let Mike know.’
‘I already contacted him. They’re examining the bottles they removed from the crime scene in case they contain any leftover oxalic acid crystals.’
She thanked him again. Lucy kept her focus on the road but added her thoughts. ‘One victim dies of shock after sulphuric acid is thrown in her face and another dies through drinking oxalic acid. I’d say that wasn’t a coincidence, even if we are dealing with different types of acid. Do you think Fran deliberately drank it?’
‘There’s a chance she did but why didn’t she leave a farewell note or letter of explanation behind, and why on earth would she hide herself in an abandoned doorway under blankets? Why not stay inside her room where she wouldn’t be discovered for a while until somebody unlocked her door? I can’t help but feel somebody left her in that street.’
‘I suppose there’s an outside chance this was an accidental death and somebody panicked and moved her body.’
‘Two accidental deaths in the space of two days and two young women who shared the same house. And… both cases involved acid. I don’t buy that.’
‘No, neither do I, really. I’m trying to make sense of it.’
‘Can’t do that without evidence and facts,’ Natalie replied. She wondered how much David knew about oxalic acid.
David sat down in the same seat he’d used the last time Natalie had interviewed him, earlier that day. He was also wearing the same clothes and hadn’t shaved. His eyes were dim and his breath smelt sour.
‘I didn’t attack Gemma,’ he said as soon as he sat down. The duty lawyer who had been asked to sit in with him cautioned him to say nothing and to wait to be questioned.
‘I’d like to talk to you about another student. Do you know this young woman?’
She slid Fran’s picture across the table. David released a low moan.
‘Do you know her?’
‘Yes. Listen, Natalie—’
She held up her hand and said quietly, ‘DI Ward.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ David pressed his hands to his face, covering it while he struggled for self-control. ‘Could I have a glass of water?’ he asked.
‘Certainly.’
Murray headed outside and no sooner had he left than David leant across the table. ‘Natalie, for the love of our children, will you please let this drop? I’m not guilty of anything. This is a fucking nightmare that I’ve somehow become entangled in, and I can’t cope with it, especially on top of everything else – you, Leigh, Josh!’ The stench of alcohol hit her full on. His mention of their children incensed her. How dare he bring them into this!
‘Would you please advise your client he is to address me correctly and that we require his full cooperation.’
Her cold manner brought him back to his senses and he sat back. Murray entered with a plastic tumbler of water that David took with thanks and downed like a man parched in the desert.
‘I repeat, do you know this young woman?’
‘Yes.’
‘How do you know her?’
‘I stuck a card up on the university noticeboard offering help and extra tuition. I needed to earn some money and I thought if I could attract a few students to help them out with assignments or whatever, it would at least be something. Fran saw the card and got in touch with me. She wanted assistance with some work she had to hand in and we arranged to meet in a coffee shop in town. I met her twice. That’s all – twice.’
‘What was the name of this coffee shop?’
‘It’s the Costa on the high street.’
‘When did you meet her?’
‘I don’t know for sure.’
Natalie said nothing but passed across the call list taken from Fran’s phone with his number highlighted in blue
.
‘You made five calls to her last week. None of them lasted longer than thirty seconds. Why was that?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘She didn’t want to talk to me and eventually she blocked my number.’
‘Why didn’t she want to talk to you?’
‘She was being unreasonable.’ He hung his head.
‘Unreasonable? How was she being unreasonable?’
‘It doesn’t matter. She just was.’
Murray looked up and said, quietly, ‘Maybe she didn’t like you pestering her, like you pestered Sasha?’ He hit his mark.
‘Shit, no! It wasn’t like that at all.’
‘Explain why she didn’t want you to ring her then,’ said Natalie.
‘This is all pretty embarrassing for me.’
‘Fran was found dead earlier today,’ said Natalie and let the news sink in.
David shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. ‘This is nuts. I had nothing whatsoever to do with her death.’ He opened his eyes with a weary sigh. ‘She owed me money. I chased her up for it but she refused to pay me. That’s why I said she was unreasonable. She contacted me to help her with a tricky translation. She wanted to do well in the assignment and I coached her with it. Afterwards, when I asked for my fee, she simply wouldn’t cough up the money.’
‘You were doing students’ work for them? You were helping them cheat.’ Natalie kept the scorn out of her voice.
‘No, I wasn’t! I haven’t fallen that low. I pointed her in the right direction.’
‘But her tutor could have done that, or one of her friends on the same course.’
‘Apparently, according to Fran, university staff are hard pressed to spend extra time with students, so much of the workload falls on the individuals themselves. Fran had had some guidance but she’d failed her last translation assignment, and if she’d failed again, she’d have been forced to retake that part of the course. I tackled the task in a different way, using techniques I’ve picked up over the years. There’s a knack to translating that extends beyond a foreign language dictionary.’
Natalie accepted his explanation. David had an ability to think in three languages and speak them all fluently even though he’d been unable to use this talent in recent months. Work had simply dried up. Even her attempts to find him employment in courts or at the police station, acting as a translator, had come to nought. Although that part of his account was credible, there was still something troubling her. ‘How come she gave you her phone number? If she intended ripping you off, I’d have thought she’d have been more careful about handing it over to you.’
