Ice Cold Blood

by David W. Millar

  Ellie appeared wearing an old threadbare dressing gown she must have found in the wardrobe. The colour was almost washed out, but she looked gloriously sexy in it. She wrapped her arms around him while he felt her bottom under the gown with his hands.

  ‘No pants then.’

  ‘I’m still sticky with sex down there.’ She reached down to rub a finger between her legs before pushing it into his mouth, the erotic gesture catching him by surprise and causing a moment of arousal.

  ‘I want a shower before putting clean knickers on, and with you around I never know when I might be called back into action,’ she laughed, kissing him on the mouth. ‘But I definitely need to refuel first.’

  Both were hungry and devoured the food. Over coffee Euan smiled at Ellie.

  ‘That was amazing.’

  ‘You are so considerate in bed. I’ve missed our lovemaking so much.’

  He wondered if she had gone elsewhere for her pleasure these two weeks but shook the thought from his head.

  ‘It is something special. We can be so good together then things just fall apart.’

  ‘It’s been hard for me too. I didn’t want all this to happen you know.’

  ‘I missed you so much,’ Hunter said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand. ‘What can we do so a rift like that doesn’t happen again?’

  He knew it was a risky strategy and any friction might blight the pleasure of their lovemaking, but he felt what had happened between them could not go unchallenged. A discussion was needed to prevent it happening again.

  ‘I need to feel supported Euan. I don’t want you to agree with everything I say. I just want my views listened to and respected.’

  ‘My mum can be opinionated; I think it comes with being a doctor and telling people what’s best for them.’

  ‘Well I don’t want my views rubbished. Being a vegan is not just for health reasons, animal welfare is important to me. People need to visit farms and abattoirs and see the suffering for themselves. Maybe then they’d think twice before eating steak or lamb.’

  He wanted to say she had overreacted to his mother’s comments, that she wasn’t criticising Ellie for caring about animals, more that a vegan diet might lack some essential nutrients. She had mentioned to him previously that diet was important in treating mental disorders and homeopathic supplements were untested and potentially harmful. But he knew that would resurrect her anger and cause another rift. So he went for the softer approach.

  ‘I want to support you and I will speak to my mum, so she knows where you’re coming from so that situation doesn’t arise again. I really like your parents. They have been so welcoming. And I want you to like mine as well. They are all good people.’

  ‘They are Euan,’ Ellie replied graciously. ‘And maybe I need to look at how I react to criticism. I have agreed, temporarily at least, to try some meds which everyone believes will have a positive effect on my wellbeing.’ She paused, squeezing his hand, ‘I do want us to be happy together.’

  Her words washed over him, gently, like warm scented water. It cleansed his soul, temporarily at least, of any lingering angst, making him feel good to be alive. She had used the word together. She had changed, was willing to move forward in life and surely wanted him to be her partner on that journey.

  ---oOo---

  ‘Was your upbringing pretty standard?’ Tosh asked McIntyre as they drove the twisting and turning roads from Fort William to the A9 which would take them eventually to Perth and then on to Edinburgh. It was a beautiful day and Tosh was glad his colleague was driving so he could take in the dramatic scenery.

  ‘Fairly normal. My parents were always there for me and encouraged me in most things I did.’

  ‘You’ve got a brother and a sister. Did you get on with them?’

  ‘Not all the time, fought a lot with my brother. We’re good pals now.’

  ‘What about your sister?’

  ‘She lives in London and has a high-powered job in the city, so we don’t see each other a lot. I’d say we were still pretty close. Any reason for asking?’

  ‘There’s something strange about Ellie Saunders’ family. Her brother was almost visceral in his hatred of his sister, even though she’d been murdered in a pretty gruesome manner.’

  ‘Family relationships can always be fraught.’

  ‘There’s also something that’s happened between Ellie and her father,’ Tosh continued, slightly irritated by his colleague trotting out the well-used platitude. ‘As a detective you’ve got to pick up on these things.’

  ‘You think her family had something to do with her murder?’

  ‘No,’ Tosh replied wearily, ‘not directly anyway. They might have had some bearing on what happened to her.’

  ‘You’ve lost me boss.’

  ‘There was no sign of a struggle in the snow-hole and she was lying naked with an axe through her head. It still seems reasonable to believe she was killed by someone who knew her. Now if this person knew her then maybe he or she knew her parents, maybe he or she knew her brother, maybe he or she knew Euan Hunter or Joe Flint. It’s sometimes about building up connections.’

  ‘I thought you were confident it’s this counsellor guy we’re going to see.’

  ‘I’m confident he’s the one who walked her up to the snow-hole and I’m confident his DNA will prove a match...’

  ‘So now you’re not so sure he’s the one who killed her. And that’s what we have two pints riding on.’

  Tosh sighed loudly. There were so many inconsistencies in the case, he was sure of nothing. A lack of definition from the post-mortem, the lack of bleeding around the wound, the lack of bruises, the lack of motive, no witnesses, her lying naked, it was all disconcerting.

  ‘Assuming this Serafini is the person who walked up the mountain with her and it’s his sperm that was found inside her, then he’s the most likely suspect. And yes, that’s what the two pints are riding on, whether he killed her or not.’

  They said nothing for a few minutes before reaching the section of the A9 that was dual carriageway before McIntyre glanced over at his boss.

  ‘How are you and Shona getting on?’

  ‘We’re fine, just taking things slowly for the moment.’

  ‘Well not that slow. I saw you coming out the entrance to her flat early this morning.’

  ‘God are you stalking me?’

  ‘I run most mornings and that’s part of my route. You didn’t see me, and I was going to shout over to you but thought that might be a bit embarrassing.’

  Tosh felt himself blush like a teenager whose guilty secret had just been revealed, turning to look out the window to avoid his colleague’s gaze. He’d left her flat early to get to the police station so he could read over the notes from the post-mortem. For some reason it was disconcerting not to have noticed McIntyre, a dent to his powers of observation as a detective. He mumbled something about having a meal at Shona’s place before taking out his mobile and checking the screen, so he had something to focus on. Then he leant back in his seat, closing his eyes and telling his colleague he was going to doze for a few minutes.

  It had been wonderful, Shona had prepared dinner and he’d brought a big red to compliment the slow-cooked lamb. The meat was tender, moist and delicious. Then she’d surprised him with an apple crumble and homemade custard knowing it was his favourite dessert. While they ate, he asked her opinion on the Ellie Saunders’ case, keen to get a woman’s perspective, and Shona had seemed genuinely pleased to be consulted. She was sharp, asking thoughtful questions while probing for more details. Tosh was surprised, that like him, she felt there might be family history that had a bearing on the murder, although admitting that was more intuition than fact.

  Then they had loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen together before going through to the living room, their glasses rec
harged. She surprised him by playing some classical music from her sound system. For some reason it seemed the perfect choice for the evening. When they sat down, he thanked her for a wonderful meal, before leaning over and kissing her slowly. She responded by running her fingers down his face before snuggling in close to his body. There was no need to rush and both were happy to postpone sexual pleasure for a few hours yet.

  ‘I think you’re too nice to be a detective chief inspector,’ she said, making eye contact. ‘It can’t be easy for you having to play the hard bastard with the type of people you meet.’

  ‘What makes you think I have to play at it? You haven’t been there to see me in action.’

  ‘I know someone from Glasgow who said that you had to learn to use swear words to create an image of being tough.’

  ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Oh I never reveal my sources,’ she replied mischievously while tapping the side of her nose. ‘But it is a reliable one.’

  ‘So you think I’m too nice to be a cop?’

  ‘It’s much too early in our relationship for me to know about any dark side. From what I’ve seen you’re someone who maybe has to occasionally play the nasty man.’

  ‘We all have to play games. I have to appear tough to the people I deal with whether it’s a Glasgow hard man or my colleagues. And yes, your source is probably right, I don’t like swearing or acting mean. Sometimes it just goes with the territory.’

  The music had finished, and Shona rose to tap the keys on her iPad. ‘Happy to stay with classical?’ I love Morricone.’

  The living room was suddenly filled with the rich tones of an oboe.

  ‘Gabriel’s Oboe from The Mission. It’s beautiful,’ Tosh sighed contentedly.

  ‘I like other music too,’ she reeled off names of various bands, Tosh nodding in agreement.

  ‘Do you play an instrument?’

  ‘I used to play the violin and I had piano lessons when I was wee. I’ve an electronic keyboard I practise on. What about you?’

  ‘I can strum a guitar badly.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re better than that.’

  ‘It’s not great, believe me. I’d love to hear you play.’

  ‘Maybe another time, are you up for a philosophical discussion this evening?’

  ‘I’m totally relaxed and up for anything you suggest.’

  ‘It follows on from what we just discussed. Do you think we eventually become the people whose parts we play when at work or with friends? It’s something I’ve always thought about.’

  ‘Now that’s a different topic of conversation. Why do you ask?’

  ‘You did psychology, and I did an Open University course on philosophy before I joined the police. Sartre said we are beings for ourselves unlike dogs or cats say, who he says are beings in themselves.’

  ‘Well I’m intrigued if a bit lost. I must confess to thinking philosophy was a bit pretentious. Can you explain it a bit more?’

  ‘Basically, dogs just do dog things running on automatic while we invent roles for ourselves and maybe define ourselves by that role. It can be a painless way to live your life, Sartre would call that a cop out, no pun intended,’ she giggled. ‘If you play the role of policeman to the detriment of your own personality then you live in what he called bad faith. We should put meaning into the acts we do rather than finding meaning externally from what other people say or expect.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand any of that.’

  ‘My interpretation is that Sartre claims we often play games and act out roles for ourselves.’

  ‘We do?’

  ‘I think you don’t play the policeman role and that’s one of the things that attracts me to you.’

  ‘Well I couldn’t begin to list all the things that attracts me to you,’ he said softly, kissing her on the lips. And I hope you don’t mind me saying that hearing you talk about philosophy is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard a woman say.’

  ‘Time for bed then.’

  Chapter 26

  He saw the police car parked at the front entrance. It was not that uncommon to see them; the police were often called to deal with various disturbances. This time Serafini knew they had come to see him. Someone had informed the police that they had seen him with Ellie Saunders. It might have been the registrar from the hospital or maybe a nurse or someone from admin who had seen Ellie turn up for a consultation. It didn’t matter.

  He thought of turning and going back home, but by now they would know where he lived and there was nothing to gain from running away. For reassurance he checked he still had his solicitor’s number on his mobile. Then he sent Katie a text saying it was likely he would be arrested that day. Making his way from the car park to the main entrance he felt remarkably calm. At least the pretence was over.

  As the automatic door slid open Serafini saw the receptionist glance over at him before nodding in the direction of two men seated nearby. They both rose and approached him.

  ‘Dr John Serafini?’ the older of the two asked. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Tosh and this is my colleague Detective Sergeant McIntyre from Fort William. ‘We would like a word with you regarding the murder of Ellie Saunders on Ben Nevis.’

  Serafini nodded, ‘if you follow me, my office is on the third floor.’

  Once inside the room Serafini switched on the kettle beside the sink before asking the two men if they would like a coffee. Both refused, Tosh showing his irritation at the delay. Serafini calmly made himself a coffee before sitting down opposite the two men and the interrogation began.

  ‘Was Ellie Saunders a client of yours?’

  Serafini looked at the two detectives. There was no point in denial, the only decision to be made was whether to call Andrea immediately.

  ‘I was in Fort William that night. I walked up with Ellie Saunders to Coire Leis where we dug out a snow-hole.’

  ‘I am detaining you as a suspect in the murder of Ellie Saunders. You don’t have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court.’

  ‘I didn’t kill her Chief Inspector. We had sex and then she asked me to leave. I walked back down to my car. Ellie was alive when I left.’

  Tosh took out a pair of handcuffs.

  ‘I don’t think these are necessary. I saw your car in the car park when I arrived and if I’d wanted to do a runner you would still be sitting downstairs. I’m still innocent until proven guilty.’

  ‘I make the decisions Dr Serafini.’

  ‘Am I able to call my secretary and have my patients’ appointments cancelled for the near future?’

  ‘Make the call and then we’re driving you to a police station for further questioning.’

  ---oOo---

  Joe Flint and Annabel went for coffee after the meeting at the clinic. He would drive to Wales later that day and although exhausted by the proceedings was willing to discuss things before leaving.

  ‘What do you make of it all?’ Annabel asked. ‘Ellie was pregnant before she left for New Zealand. We don’t know what happened between her time there and when she got back. All we know is that she was certainly not pregnant when she returned.’

  Flint looked up at her wearily. ‘I don’t know what to make of it and it’s messing with my head. She might have paid for an abortion in New Zealand, so no one knew she was pregnant. Then she comes home and resumes her life. When we met up again, there was no mention of it. We resumed working together and occasionally sleeping together.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like Ellie. I sincerely doubt she could have terminated her pregnancy.’

  ‘Well no one would know since she was in New Zealand and she wouldn’t be judged. That’s the most logical explanation.’

  ‘You knew Ellie, did she worry about what other people thought?’

>   ‘No.’

  ‘So for me that leaves only two possibilities. She either miscarried here, and then went to New Zealand to cope with her pain or she went through with the pregnancy and the baby was adopted in New Zealand.’

  ‘Is that likely or even possible, go to another country when you’re pregnant and then give your baby to someone else?’

  ‘It makes some sense bearing in mind the Ellie we know. A decision is made in her head that means she doesn’t have the baby here so no-one, her parents or her friends, can influence her or try to talk her out of it. The baby is adopted in a country as far away as possible meaning it’s final and that chapter of her life is closed. She can then move on.’

  ‘I might be the father of a child who’s living in New Zealand?’

  ‘Joe, it’s a possibility. There was more than a hint of a suggestion at the clinic that Ellie might have been suffering from a mental breakdown. Remember that Mary Simpson at the clinic said she saw her twice, maybe the second time was after the scan, and she picked up that Ellie was depressed.’

  ‘Why would Ellie not have told me she was pregnant, and I was the father,’ Flint groaned. ‘I get some sort of fucking test to see if I’m a suitable father, don’t turn up, fail miserably, so she goes off to New Zealand and gives our baby away to complete strangers.’

  Annabel reached out, touching his hand. ‘She was struggling mentally Joe; it wasn’t your fault. Maybe deep down she felt she wouldn’t be a great mother, It wasn’t rational. When Ellie gets something into her head it becomes difficult to shift, regardless of logic.’

  ‘And somehow Euan bloody Hunter gets a copy of the scan that might be my son. What’s that all about?’

  ‘We need to talk to him, have a meeting. I’ll see if I can set it up. He’s a good man whatever you think of him, loving Ellie to distraction was really difficult for him.’

  ‘I’m really busy with work. I’m not about to cancel expeditions.’

  ‘I’ll see what pressure I can exert. He’s coming over this evening to take Eilidh out for an early birthday treat.’