‘You might have dumped it somewhere or buried it under the snow.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘And you said you drove to Perth and found a hotel room. We checked that out of course and there was no listing of a John Serafini.’
‘Wilson, I use Wilson instead of Serafini when I can – in case my wife checks up on me.’
‘You really expect us to believe that? You were just trying to cover your tracks.’
‘I can give you records of hotels I’ve checked into under that name, inspector. It’s the name on my birth certificate.’
‘Why not just drive back to Edinburgh?’ McIntyre asked.
‘I was tired, and I said to Katie I wouldn’t be home till the following day.’
‘Do you think she was expecting someone else that evening after you’d left?’
Serafini hesitated, his friend had made the same suggestion and it was tempting to say yes to bolster the idea that someone had come up later that night and killed her.
‘I asked her if she had a stove to make hot drinks and she said yes very quickly. She was very keen for me to go and said she was tired. She gave me a big hug before I left. The situation was bizarre, but then Ellie was always unpredictable. She craved adventure, challenges, new experiences and was prepared to push herself to the limit of her endurance. She might have been expecting someone else but who knows, maybe spending the night alone in the snow was one of these new experiences?’
Andrea asked for a ten-minute break so she could consult with her client and Tosh was happy to agree. From his perspective the interview wasn’t going particularly well, Serafini seemed unfazed, his answers thoughtful and plausible. It was time to call a halt.
‘I think that’s enough questioning for the moment,’ Tosh declared before Serafini was led away to the cells.
‘He’s a psychiatrist,’ McIntyre said dismissively when they were alone. ‘He’ll know all about lying.’
‘You think he did it then despite betting a couple of pints on him being innocent.’
‘He’s playing a game and I hate it. He’s all nicey, nicey and wasn’t she a wonderful person and oh I was worried about the effect on my wife and family because I was screwing a client,’ he ranted, making Tosh laugh. ‘Serafini was the last person to see her alive but he waits for weeks to see if we don’t find him. Then he tries to pin the blame on Euan Hunter.’
‘Well we don’t have much else against him. I’ll get forensics to examine his car and his climbing gear for traces of blood or see if his stuff had been washed to remove anything incriminating.’
‘Is there enough evidence to prosecute?’
‘No doubt the Crown Office would prefer more evidence rather than charge him at present. While he remains a suspect, we can continue to question him. And even at the cost of a couple of pints I wouldn’t want the wrong man convicted.’
Chapter 28
‘There’s nothing settled yet,’ McIntyre protested to his boss after the interrogation of Serafini. They were both seated in the lounge of the local hotel in Fort William, having travelled back late on Thursday evening. ‘Yes, he’s admitted to being with her at Coire Leis and there’s no doubt his DNA will prove a match. But he’s not admitting to killing her. Neither of us can claim the pints until he’s either found guilty or gets eliminated from our enquiries.’
Tosh leant back in his chair contentedly. Things were going well. They now had a suspect for the murder of Ellie Saunders, and he had enjoyed phoning Colin Campbell with the news. Tosh knew he might not have enough to formally charge Serafini. More evidence might be needed to convince a jury of his guilt. At present all they had was that he had been with her that night. And Serafini maintained an outright denial that he had killed her. There were no witnesses, no prints on the ice axe and any motive for him killing her remained tenuous. Forensics might still be able to come up with something, maybe blood stains on his clothing. There was plenty of work still to be done.
Meanwhile, Shona had suggested he move in with her for the duration of the investigation, telling him it was a pragmatic arrangement that would save him time in not having to travel from Inverness. He had put up token resistance, worried that it was too soon in their relationship, but in the end he accepted. And although Shona had said she would not take any money in the way of rent, Tosh thought his boss would agree to some reimbursement and would make sure that money went to her.
Their first lovemaking on Thursday evening had been special, for him the first time since he had split with Alison. He was nervous, didn’t want to appear clumsy and rush things. Shona undressed in front of him, slipping into the bed beside him. They had kissed for ages, locking eye contact while caressing each other’s bodies, both making an unconscious decision to take things slowly. When her touch became more urgent, he had responded, feeling her breasts before sliding his hand between her legs. Things progressed quickly from there. Sleep was still a long way off, so, wrapped in each other’s arms, they had chatted for another hour about silly things, primary schools, teenage crushes and awkward dates before Tosh saw her eyes closing and he too drifted off, sleeping soundly until the alarm went off.
Both got up at 6am as Shona was on duty before eight and Tosh was off to Edinburgh to interview John Serafini. They had breakfast together, still in the afterglow from the previous night. Both were relaxed and happy, talking about Partick Thistle’s chances of avoiding relegation and St Mirren’s progress in the Cup.
‘You still don’t think he did it then, Ian,’ Tosh replied, bringing his thoughts back to the present. ‘You think he just walked back and left her hale and hearty?’
‘I suppose it seems likely he did kill her: last person to see her, someone she knew and trusted, possible motive if she threatened to tell his wife, so it ticks all the boxes statistically at least when it comes to the usual murder ‘’suspects.’’ I’ve not had anything like the experience of murder cases as you, but does the guy seem like a murderer to you?’
‘I’ve had cases where you just wouldn’t believe the person you were talking to had killed their wife and buried her in the garden. A man kept his wife in a freezer in Glasgow for six months while one idiot in the Force just posted her on the missing person’s list. Even then the guy kept denying it and he was an elder in the Church of Scotland. Yes, I have reservations about this case, and we need to interview friends and family of John Serafini and see if we can come up with anything that might have led him to kill her.’
---oOo---
‘How are the kids taking it?’ Serafini asked Katie.
He had asked her to tell them in case it was released to the papers or they heard from someone else.
‘Complete and utter shock. They are so upset. It’s hit them really hard. In the end I sat them both down and told them what had happened, that you were up the mountain with the woman, but you didn’t kill her.’
‘What did they say?’
‘You know children, they see things in black and white. Their dad was shagging another woman. They don’t believe you killed her if that’s any consolation.’
‘Can you tell them how sorry I am for what they are going through and how much I love them?’
‘I will. I told your sister and your father. They were both really upset. I said you didn’t kill her, but that you’re still the prime suspect.’
Serafini shut his eyes, lowering his forehead onto the table. He was fighting hard to remain calm and objective while not feeling sorry for himself. Katie would not take well to any form of self-indulgence.
‘I haven’t been charged yet, so they will release me later today. They want me to voluntarily surrender my passport because of the house in Italy. I know I’ve messed up big time. It’s not fair on you, the kids or our families. I can say I’m sorry a thousand times, but I doubt it will make much difference. I can only hope they get the person who did it.’<
br />
‘Do you have any theories about who that might be?’
‘Possibly a former boyfriend - Euan Hunter. He was besotted with her. During our counselling sessions I accused Ellie of playing around with Hunter’s emotions, something she always denied. She said he even punched a guy who was hitting on her.’
‘Have you told the police this?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well let’s hope they can use that information and come up with something.’
‘There’s Joe Flint. Ellie climbed with him on expeditions and slept with him a fair bit too,’ he paused. ‘The trouble is she slept with a lot of men. She used sex as an endorphin rush to help her moods. Maybe it was one of her random lovers that she invited up to the mountain to follow on from me. She was certainly very determined that I leave.’
‘It takes a lot to kill someone,’ Katie said quietly. ‘I stick a knife in people on a regular basis and each time I wince.’
Serafini nodded, he’d thought about it for weeks now. If it was a random killing, then it was unlikely that person would be caught. No witnesses, no footprints, probably no fingerprints, and no history linking the killer to Ellie. If that was the case it was all over for him. The police would charge him, he would go on trial and a jury would surely find him guilty. The case would then be closed, and he would spend most of the rest of his life in prison.
‘I don’t know all the details of the crime,’ Serafini shrugged. ‘But on the TV coverage the police said they didn’t find her rucksack and she was found naked. Maybe the person who did it got his blood or something on the rucksack and had to remove it. Maybe on her clothes as well.’
Visiting time was nearly over and Katie rose to leave. He managed to keep back the tears until she had left the room.
---oOo---
He had a contact in New Zealand, John Dylan, someone he had climbed with in South America several years ago. They had stayed connected, meeting up a few times in Europe for some winter ice climbing. It was possible he knew Ellie from previous expeditions, but he couldn’t be sure. Flint knew he was a doctor, a cancer specialist dealing with leukaemia. Now a busy man with a young family that curtailed these time-consuming activities, it had been over a year at least since they had last spoken. Flint felt he knew him well enough to ask a favour. So he sent the text asking him to recommend a good time for Flint to call him. To his surprise Dylan called him back almost immediately.
They exchanged the usual pleasantries, Flint asked about his family and Dylan enquired how Flint’s company was doing. Then they spoke about climbing, Dylan asking when he was coming over to New Zealand so they could climb Mount Cook together. Eventually Flint steered the conversation towards Ellie Saunders.
‘Do you remember Ellie Saunders who helped out on some of my expeditions?’
‘No mate, I don’t recall the name.’
‘She was murdered recently on Ben Nevis,’ Flint prompted. ‘You might have heard about it.’
‘Jesus, I read about that. And you’re saying she used to work for you?’
‘I just paid her expenses, her fares - that sort of thing. She wasn’t officially on the payroll.’
‘Yeah. Real shame. So how can I help you?’
Flint hesitated, not really knowing where to start. It all sounded a bit hopeless now.
‘She went to New Zealand about 14 years ago. There’s a chance she might have been pregnant.’
‘Right, ok. I’m wondering where this is going. She’s pregnant and you’re involved.’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you the father?’
‘It’s possible, but it’s all speculation.’
‘So you want me to see if I can find out anything from this end?’
‘It’s a big thing to ask?’ Flint sighed, appreciating his friend cutting to the chase. ‘The whole thing’s just messing with my head. I was even thinking of coming over to see if I could find out anything.’
‘Right fill me in with all the details you have, and I’ll see what I can do.’
So Flint told him about the meeting with Ellie that he’d cancelled, her subsequent trip to New Zealand and the scan he’d got from Euan Hunter. He spoke about the bizarre interview at the pregnancy clinic and the lack of any detailed information. When he had finished, Dylan asked for her date of birth, when roughly she might have travelled over and lastly if he knew which city she had flown into.
‘It’s not much to go on,’ Flint sighed when he’d answered Dylan’s questions as best he could. ‘When I asked her about New Zealand, she said she’d travelled around the South Island.’
‘If she toured the South Island then she’d have probably flown into Christchurch. I’ll see what I can find out from the hospitals there first. I take it you want to find out if she had the child here or got an abortion.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I’d like to know?’
‘And if she had the child here, what then?’
‘I’d need to reassess things then. If it is my kid, then I don’t know what I would do.’
‘Right mate, I’ll see what I can do. If you don’t mind, I’ll chat to the wife about it, she’s a senior nurse here in Auckland and might be able to help. There should be records but data protection is pretty strict here.’
‘Well anything you can find out is a real help. Happy for you to talk to your wife and I’ll see if I can come up with any more information.’
‘Actually mate, there is something you could do that might be a big help.’
‘What’s that?’
‘See if you can get a copy of her death certificate and send it as an attachment to my email. If I can show she’s dead, then they might release some information.’
‘Great idea John, I should be able to get that.’
‘One last question mate. Do the police know about this?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Ok final, final question,’ Dylan laughed. ‘Are you going to tell them?’
‘Not yet.’
Chapter 29
They went to Paris for three days. He had loved it, ordering food in cafes and sitting with her in the sun eating baguettes. They had a trip up the Eiffel Tower along with other tourist stuff followed by some heady passion in a very cramped hotel room. They walked for miles around the city holding hands and laughing. Wearing a loose-fitting dress, she behaved outrageously at times, taking his hand and forcing it upwards between her legs when they were seated on a park bench. He had wanted to ask her to marry him, to propose in Paris, the city of romance. But he had neither an engagement ring nor the courage.
The business side of the trip went well, Ellie showing a portfolio of the work her firm had done, drawing admiring comments from the Board of Directors and it seemed likely they would commission some work. Ellie had introduced him as her boyfriend and translator. Unfortunately, two of the directors of the company spoke excellent English so his services in that department were not required. He knew Ellie loved the fact he could speak the language, often asking him to woo her in bed by talking in French.
It was a short letter by Ellie’s standards, the words reflecting her present mood which was clearly buoyant. Whether it was the medication or her exercise regime, he couldn’t be sure. Looking back now he realised it was probably the former.
Dearest Euan
What can I say about our time in Gay Paris apart from Ooh La! La! The city of romance lived up to its name. Walking by day and fucking by night! Once again you were ‘magnifique dans le lit!’ I loved playing your French whore in that seedy little room. We’ve fucked in a few countries now.
The French company we had our meeting with, ‘Art International’, have been in touch already and are very interested in sub-contracting some work from America that they are struggling to cope with, and we are discussing financial terms as I write this letter. If I get this work, then I will be
able to take on another artist which is wonderful. It builds up the company and boosts our reputation. I am looking further afield for work and would consider Australia and New Zealand. You can’t stand still in my line of work and my company constantly needs to innovate.
My brother wants us to meet up again with him and Lysette. They both like you a lot and again I think Eamon wants us to play happy families again and forget the childhood angst he caused me. But once a bastard always a bastard. I know Lysette will be wanting to parler en Francais avec vous again! I’m sure you find her very sexy; I know I do! (Do you think I might be bisexual? Ha! Ha!) Anyway, if we meet in Edinburgh on a Friday you could stay over, and we could go for a cycle on Saturday and then a time trial or a race together on Sunday. We haven’t had a proper race yet and you’re pretty fit (if a little overweight to be a cyclist!) I wonder what your time would be over twenty miles. If it’s a hilly course, then I fancy my chances.
The really big news is that Annabel now has a new man! He’s called Bob and he’s an artist specialising in sculpture and from what I’ve heard he’s pretty good, makes really big statues that sell well. He’s got his own studio in Edinburgh and quite a few commissions. Anyway Annabel’s keen that we all meet for lunch, so it looks like we’ll be consuming a lot of food and alcohol soon!
My mum and dad are going off to walk for a week in the Dolomites this summer. I know they would love it if we joined them. It’s a set course and mainly paths, which would be a bit tame and I doubt I could cope with my parents for that length of time!
I know you’ve put in for promotion as a senior engineer with your company and I hope you’re successful. You’re obviously good at your job, after all none of the bridges you’ve worked on have ever fallen down! (yet!) Ha! Ha!
Your woman
Ellie
It was another nondescript letter and slowly over time he’d realised it was Ellie’s way of showing intimacy. There might be no reference to love and devotion but the very act of taking the time to write to him was her way of letting him know she cared about him. Unable to gauge her long-term commitment to the relationship, it made it difficult for him to have a serious conversation about their future.
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