‘Necrophilia?’
‘Yes,’ McIntyre nodded, somewhat deflated that his boss had guessed the motive.
‘I thought about it at the beginning, but I think it’s a pretty wild speculation.’
‘It’s still a possibility. There was semen inside her.’
Tosh nodded, despite the lapse regarding Euan Hunter’s daughter, his colleague was thorough and logical, with the makings of a good detective. However, he hadn’t had much experience of murder cases. Tosh wanted to encourage him rather than just dismiss any of his theories out of hand.
‘We have no motive, no witnesses, no images from street cameras and a pathologist’s report that’s not definitive. So all theories are welcome. But a former boss of mine always said that being a good detective was similar to a doctor diagnosing a disorder in a patient. You always look for the most likely causes first, the ones that are statistically relevant, before you go for the weird and wonderful.’
‘Right,’ McIntyre said doubtfully.
‘My dad’s a GP in Glasgow. He was plagued with patients coming in having been on the internet and declaring they had cancer because of an increase in headaches. One was convinced he must have a bile duct tumour because his shites were floating in the toilet pan.’
‘Oh God you shouldn’t have told me that. I’ll be checking mine from now on.’
‘Loads of people get headaches without having cancer. So other things should be checked out first. Necrophilia is so incredibly rare that we should discount it almost immediately. However, some sort of bondage or fetish activity that involved tying the woman up is well worth considering. It could be sadomasochism that went wrong though going from spanking a woman to putting an ice axe through her head is a bit extreme even for a pervert. Even if it was necrophilia or some form of extreme bondage as you suggested, and she was killed outside the snow-hole and dragged back, it doesn’t move us forward.’
‘If we can establish a motive then…’
‘There are no police files we can mine for information on sadomasochists, bondage merchants or snow-hole fuckers. What we need are suspects and they’re few on the ground.’
‘We do have the suspect’s DNA from the semen. That’s pretty damning evidence.’
‘And hopefully that’s how we’ll nail the bastard. You get going and see if you can get more details about Ellie from her friends. Anything they know about this Euan Hunter would be of particular interest. I’m about to speak to her parents soon.’
As McIntyre rose to leave, Veronica Saunders appeared, nodding to him as he left the breakfast room.
‘I’m a little early and thought you might still be at your breakfast.’
Tosh stood up, offering her McIntyre’s vacated chair. ‘Please, if you are willing to talk here then I will order more coffee.’
Veronica nodded, sitting down as requested while Tosh went over to speak to the waiter.
‘He’s happy for us to sit here, with any luck we won’t be disturbed.’
The waiter brought over a clean cup and saucer, Tosh pouring out some coffee. ‘Will your husband be joining us soon?’
‘We have agreed that it might be better if you spoke to us separately.’
‘Right,’ Tosh replied hesitantly.
‘Inspector, my husband and I separated for a time. This had a negative effect on Ellie who blamed Alan for the rift and refused to speak to him for a year. I don’t think she ever really forgave him.’
Tosh nodded, allowing Veronica to continue.
‘There was another woman involved and Ellie put all the blame on Alan.’
‘Was that fair?’
Veronica shrugged her shoulders. ’Maybe, but as with all relationships it’s complicated.’
‘Did Alan move out?’
‘Yes, for about ten months. He rented a flat and lived on his own, but we still met for coffee occasionally. When he stopped seeing the woman, I asked him to come back to the house,’ she paused. ‘I missed him, and he missed me. Ellie was furious at me for allowing this and stayed away from the house for months. I said to you yesterday that Alan and Ellie used to spend a lot of time together in his workshop making all sorts of inventions and contraptions. She never forgave him and only went into his workshop when he wasn’t there.’
Tosh drank his coffee, nodding as sympathetically as he could. Experience had given him insights of the complexities that existed within families. Glasgow was awash with abusive and violent parents where children were on the ‘at risk’ register as soon as they were born. Even families which appeared normal had dark secrets that smouldered behind closed doors. Veronica Saunders’ approach to her husband’s infidelity was atypical.
‘When did you last see Ellie?’
‘About three weeks ago, I have the exact date in my diary. It was a surprise visit as far as I was concerned though I think she’d planned it a week before.’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘She knew her father was away attending a conference for inventors.’
‘How was she when you saw her?’
‘Fine, gave me a hug and we talked about everything apart from her father. I had a few artist friends coming around for coffee and Ellie spent most on the morning in the workshop hammering and banging until they left. She’d made me a little statue out of metal.’
Tosh nodded, pouring out refills of coffee for them both.
‘Can I ask you about Euan Hunter?’
‘A wonderful man! He was so thoughtful, well-mannered and very loving to Ellie. We were both devastated when they split up. Alan and Euan could talk for hours about bridges and buildings. And we had something in common, we were all climbers.’
‘Has he been in touch?’
‘He’s been on the phone a few times from abroad and was quite upset he couldn’t make the funeral. He sent flowers and a card.’
‘How long ago did they split up?’
‘They had breaks, as young people call them, quite frequently. But always seemed to get back together again. I suppose it was a rollercoaster relationship. Then about thirteen or fourteen years or so ago he had a daughter to Annabel after he and Ellie had been parted for about a year. Ellie took it badly as Annabel was her best friend. Then once again Euan and Ellie resumed their rocky relationship.’
‘You don’t reckon that Euan Hunter could have killed her?’
‘There is no way Euan could have killed Ellie. He even came down twice to Gloucester to see us with his daughter Eilidh.’
Tosh said nothing, but he knew from experience almost anyone was capable of violence if buttons were pushed and emotional scars from the past triggered a blind rage. He remembered a woman in Glasgow who had slit the throat of her husband’s little dog before attacking him with the knife. They had been together forty years and she had been chairwoman of a children’s charity. The papers had had a field day. One prominent tabloid had wryly commented that at least she wasn’t on the board of the RSPCA.
‘I believe Ellie had seen a counsellor at various times in her life. Do you know the name of the person?’
‘She was very guarded about it. All I know is that it was a man.’
‘Did she say where she went for the sessions?’
Veronica shook her head. ‘Sorry, it was a touchy subject for some reason and Ellie seldom talked about her therapy. All she said that he was excellent, and his sessions were always helpful and more valuable than any pills.’
Tosh could see she was becoming drained emotionally, trying to hold it together so she could answer his questions.
‘Thank you, Mrs Saunders, I know this hasn’t been easy for you and I’ve just one last question. We believe Ellie made a will although there’s no copy with her solicitor and we found nothing in her flat. I wondered if she might have given you the original or even a copy.’
‘I’m sorry Inspecto
r, she has never mentioned a will to me, and I doubt she would have talked to her father about it.’ She rose to her feet. ‘If you will excuse me, I’ll ask Alan to come and speak to you.’
As she walked away Tosh felt the familiar feeling of shared grief he always experienced when talking to the parents of murder or car crash victims. It was an empathy he would rather avoid since in some cases he had been moved to tears which was not always the best outcome for a policeman. He reminded himself it was simply a caring part of his humanity that was being expressed - something to be proud of.
---oOo---
John Serafini drove back to the borders with some sense of relief that he had talked to someone about Ellie, despite there being no definite resolution of his problem. As expected, Martin Lewis had urged him repeatedly to go to the police and explain what had happened. There had been tears in his eyes when they parted. He was glad to have a friend to who cared about him so much.
Serafini had arranged to take his wife out for dinner to celebrate her birthday. It was a new restaurant near Peebles that they both loved. They would stay over in a nearby hotel. There was no way he would confess over a meal, just hoping the occasion might bring them closer and survive the storm if it broke. Their two children were coming home the following day and it would be good for them to be together as a family again.
He felt buoyed for two reasons. The first was the fact that over a week had now passed, and the police had not contacted him. Serafini had followed the progress of the investigation very closely and it was clear they had no real leads. They would have interviewed family, friends, and her doctor. Bank statements would have been checked, making it easy to track him down if he had accepted payment for the counselling. How fortuitous it was that he had never charged Ellie.
The newspapers still carried the story, but only to say there had been no progress save the standard phrase that the police were pursuing certain lines of enquiry. They were obviously hoping that there would be some sort of breakthrough that would give some juicy headlines.
The fact he had not been questioned meant either the detectives leading the investigation did not know Ellie had been counselled in the past or the counsellor’s name. If the former, then surely it was unlikely he could ever be traced. Serafini suspected it was the latter. Regardless, it was clear then that the police were having difficulty in tracking him down, making it possible that she had never mentioned his name to anyone.
If they suspected there was a counsellor involved, then the next step for the investigation would be to either visit or phone all the counsellors in the country. Could he lie directly to the police if questioned?
It was Martin Lewis’ last comment that gave him the most hope. Surely Ellie must have been expecting someone to come after he had gone home that night. Maybe they would have walked off the mountain in the morning, except for some reason that had all gone wrong and he had murdered her, maybe in a fit of rage. And Serafini had his own suspect who might have carried out the killing - Euan Hunter.
Chapter 15
Dearest Euan
It was good to see you after your return from Egypt and sorry I didn’t have much time to hear about what you thought of the country, its food and culture. At least I know you saw the pyramids if little else. We must keep that for our next meeting. The big surprise I have planned for us will have to wait another few weeks as I have to go to London now on business, but when we synchronise our diaries we will take to the air, and soon I promise. And I want to thank you once again for your generosity in allowing Annabel to play gooseberry at dinner on Saturday night. She is distraught at the break-up with that Peter fellow, no doubt thinking they would eventually settle down together. I don’t think you can ever really trust a male doctor! They are so often up their own backsides, conceited and aloof. Although I must say I thought Peter was different - then he goes and starts shagging nurses! Loyalty is so important for a woman. You were very good with her at the meal, thoughtful and understanding. She really likes you, but then who doesn’t? I have suggested Annabel expresses her feelings through her art and that made her think, so hopefully something positive might come out of the pain she is feeling right now. We have done what we can, and it is up to her how she now moves on in her life. She will be a stronger woman for it and maybe better able to explain her feelings when she embarks on future relationships. I keep telling her men are not telepathic and she must articulate her needs to them.
What about our lunch with my brother Eamon and Lysette? It was the first time you’d met them and I’m interested in what your opinion was of my brother, (and Lysette) since you had to get the train back to Glasgow immediately after the meal and we didn’t have time for any discussion. I’m not sure why he wanted to meet you. Perhaps he has a genuine desire to build bridges with his sister though I doubt it. And I doubt I want to build them either. All he talked about was money, money and property. Maybe it was all just to try and impress Lysette?
I know you are vaguely aware of the battles Eamon and I had when we were young. We fought repeatedly and there was one incident where I know I will never forgive him. Mum and dad had to separate us a lot and quite often we ended up being sent to our rooms for hours. At least he hated climbing, so I got to spend more time on my own with mum and dad.
You see Eamon was bossy, wanting me to do what he said even if I was older than him. But I was smarter and had my ways of getting back at him. When he started going out with girls, I was particularly horrible, often using the name of a previous girlfriend when I spoke to his current girlfriend, and then apologising by saying there had been so many girls it was difficult to keep up! He found his own ways of retaliation, like hiding a bucket of cow shit in a cupboard in my bedroom until the stink was unbearable. When I started menstruating, I know he hid my sanitary towels (he always denies it) and watched me get panic-stricken as I looked for them. There were other darker episodes in our childhood that I will keep under wraps for now.
I know Eamon is family and that does remind me of home though I know I will never be close to my brother. We have different opinions on most things. He salutes capitalism while I am a socialist. I want to see a fairer society where a wealthy country like ours can look after the poor and the needy. We should raise taxes and look after our vulnerable people.
And when did you suddenly learn to speak French?? That was an interesting tête-à-tête you had with Lysette! What a dark horse you are. I think it made Eamon quite jealous as his beginner’s French is a poor imitation compared to yours and your accent is so superior. So well done! And French is such a sexy language. I found myself getting quite turned on and would have fucked you in the toilet of the restaurant given half a chance. (I masturbated that night thinking about you, me and Lysette together in a threesome. Does the thought of that turn you on?)
I think Lysette is a good woman, maybe too good for my bourgeois brother. He is a handsome guy, I can’t deny that, but compatibility is surely more important. I caught her eye a few times when I was speaking where she often inclined her head in agreement when I expressed opinions counter to Eamon’s. They might have some interesting arguments if they settle down together!
Some breaking news I didn’t want to discuss in the restaurant. I might have a chance to buy out the company I work for. It’s really come a bit early for me as I would like more experience at running a business, then sometimes you just have to take a chance. It might also depend on another generous loan from mum and dad, so we will have to see. (They have already given me the deposit for my flat!)
That’s all for now, but I think we’re due a mid-week fuck since we were denied at the weekend and I’m away the next. Thursday evening would work for me if you can get to Edinburgh after work??
In anticipation then
Ellie
Euan replaced the letter in the envelope and sighed. Her words once again ranged from the formal to the outrageous. He remembered the reference
to a threesome with Lysette had shocked him at the time. As usual information was conveyed in business-like fashion, while the words fuck and masturbate would suddenly appear - raw and jagged. And there was no mention of love, nothing emotional or tender to indicate her feelings towards him; just that she wanted him to fuck him there and then. Her advice to Annabel had been to work out what she wanted from a man and to make sure she got it. He certainly knew what Ellie wanted in a relationship, well one thing at least - sex on a regular basis. But what did he want then? It was more than sex, more than just climbing, more than just intellectual stimulation. He wanted her, Ellie Saunders - exclusive rights to her body, mind and soul. He wanted lifelong commitment but was scared to ask.
And he had gone through on Thursday evening and fucked her as she had requested, slipping away at five in the morning to be onsite in Aberdeen for eight o’clock. Closing the bedroom door softly she had looked peaceful and happy. He remembered wanting to kiss her before he left but was scared to disturb her sleep. She said later when they broke up for the last time that he was always too eager to please and that women saw this as a weakness. If only she had told him sooner maybe he could have appeared less needy.
And he felt he had learned what worked and didn’t work: finding out quickly that flowers were not welcome as a gift and chocolates had to be ethically sourced. Opening car doors for her wasn’t allowed and neither was paying for meals or hotels unless it was a surprise. It had to be fifty-fifty or nothing. But it was one incident in a bar in Switzerland that had taught him the most important lesson.
---oOo---
The conversation with Alan Saunders had been particularly daunting. The man was distraught. He answered questions mainly with a nod or shake of the head. The fact Ellie had disowned him for some time had taken its toll and now, since there was no chance of reconciliation with his daughter, the man was broken. Tosh tried hard, talking of the times her father had spent with Ellie in his workshop to try and bring something positive to the conversation, while he just sat with his head in his hands. Eventually Tosh rose from his seat, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder and left him to his grief. There was nothing of any relevance to be obtained from prolonging the agony.
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