In order to access the higher levels of the monument, it was necessary to purchase admission at the entrance in the gardens and then climb the claustrophobic tight twisting stairs, slowly rising upwards right to the top. The observation level gave a panoramic view over as far as Arthur's Seat, all the way up and down the street, over the Gardens to the Castle and was always popular with anyone who visited the city.
The monument had yet to open its doors to the public this morning but there was a solitary figure standing on the deck, silhouetted against the sun. Hands stuffed deep into the pockets of a parka, breath emanating in long slow clouds of condensation from inside the fur lined hood. Facing the Mound, they appeared deep in thought, oblivious to the sounds of the waking city that had begun to emanate upwards to the observation level. On top of the Mound stood the Free Church College, offices of the courts and the court itself. The hood of the parka was fixed firmly in this direction as if expecting to see something but the buildings remained impassive as ever. The Castle sat proudly above all; older than the College and more historic than the court; and watched as the figure on the monument breathed a final sigh and was gone back through the small wooden door and into the stairway before the parting cloud of breath had even fully dissipated.
The paths and pavements that circled around Arthur's Seat were numerous and surprisingly well used. A firm favourite of joggers and dog walkers, they passed each other regularly enough to briefly raise a hand in salutation or participate in the mutual upwards head bob of recognition. Today was no different. On the uphill portion of the path, a young man in lycra had just sped past, narrowly avoiding a Yorkie puppy that had become too excited at being let off the lead. Hustling after it in vain was an older woman whose face was beetroot with exertion and embarrassment at her suddenly nuisance dog. She moved as quickly as her legs would carry her girth but knew full well that she'd only catch the dog when it became distracted by something and chose to stop. Her attempt at a breathless apology was waved off by the jogger with a smile: poor woman. Just as the puppy rounded the bend and threatened to disappear from view, it veered off hard to the left like a fur clad stinger missile, yapping shrilly the whole time. The owner rested her hands on aching knees and took a moment to try to catch her breath and collect her thoughts.
‘” Get a dog” he'd said. “Do you good to get out of the house” he'd said. “Keep you young.” he'd said.'
Right about now she felt every one of her 59 years. What hurt more than her chest and hips was the thought of losing her puppy: - despite all of her complaints she had become quite fond of little Eva. Hauling in a half lungful of air she resumed her pursuit, albeit more slowly, following the steady yaps that seemed to echo for miles around the slopes and over towards the city. Such noise from such a tiny thing. She followed the sound away from the roadside and off the path towards the shrubbery at the start of the incline. Sweat had already plastered hair to her forehead and she had no doubt that she probably looked ridiculous. It was of no concern at the moment. She gripped the lead firmer in her hand and continued her trek through the muddy grass. Another few paces brought her to the source of the ungodly noise: Eva, all 8 inches of her, was staring intently at the bush nearest them both. Scratching furiously with her tiny forelegs and burying her nose then standing straight and yelping.
'Come here you.'
She advanced on her companion with relief and scooped up the wriggling puppy into her arms. Eva stopped squirming and happily began to lick her owner's face with her rough tongue. All was clearly forgiven on both sides. The lead was attached back to the collar and the puppy lowered carefully back to the muddy ground. Her coat was already filthy; no point in carrying her to keep her clean. That ship had already sailed. Eva strained at her leash in an attempt to get herself fully under the bush. The owner was too indulgent of her little ball of energy.
'What is it then Eva?' She braced her hands on her knees again and used the positive voice she'd read about in the puppy training books. 'Show mummy what's so interesting.'
Might as well let her have a little more excitement before she had to administer the ultimate betrayal of giving her a bath at home. The scratching and digging ceased for a moment and the puppy began tugging at something underneath the undergrowth. Snarling and twisting her head, she came away with the remnants of some sort of shirt. Now the owner was aghast.
'No Eva! Put it down. God knows who wore that last or what they did with it.'
She moved to collect her up again but paused. It wasn't visible until she was almost on top of it but the soil underneath the low lying scrub was freshly turned and there looked to be more clothes semi-buried under there. Holding Eva over her shoulder and unconsciously shielding her from the view, she prodded at something solid with her trainer. Now it was her turn to yelp; a bone was sticking out from whatever chequered rag her dog had been attempting to eat. Eva's bath would have to wait. She reached for her mobile with her free hand and dialled the non-emergency number – she wasn't about to waste the police's time if it turned out to be nothing. A deep sniff seemed to compose her as the ring was answered and the puppy happily licked her face as she explained what she had seen.
At the police station, they took the information to be a little more serious than the dog walker had portrayed it. Dispatching officers immediately, the operator asked the dog walker to remain where she was until the officers arrived and not to disturb the scene any more than was necessary. Once the call had ended, the operator leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. She was in her early twenties, and her blonde hair was tied back underneath her headset. It took her the best part of 30 minutes of careful application each morning to achieve her “no make-up” look. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly over pale blue eyes as she thought and her pen went from twirling absent-mindedly to being inserted carefully between her lips. The find could be nothing but she had been asked to keep him informed on anything that could be pertinent. The dilemma as always was to disclose irrelevant information and lose credibility or to not disclose information that later turned out to be key and lose all credibility entirely. Snapping out of her thoughts she realised she had been staring across the table at another operator who was holding her gaze with a confused smile. She returned the smile, carefully removed the pen and pretended to focus on the monitor in front of her. There was really no option. The mouse found the official contact list folder and meandered slowly down the list. Expanding the “other” tab, she selected “personal” and selected the only number there. The auto dialler began to do its thing as she found herself hoping and praying in a macabre fashion that it was indeed a corpse under the bush on the hill.
The patrol car had arrived and the first men on the scene had spoken to her briefly. She gave her details to the polite young officer who was all smiles and reassurances while his more severe looking colleague had gone to inspect the area. The younger officer closed his notebook and looked her over.
'Now Maureen...' The yapping from Eva caused him to pause a moment. Ignoring the shushing, he reached across and began scratching the happy puppy behind her ears. 'And Eva of course. We are happy that we have your details and can get in touch if we need anything else. Thank you for letting us know and I don't think we need to delay you any longer.'
Filled with the enthusiasm and vigour that only carried most through training and not long beyond that, the policeman was every bit the friendly face of policing with his immaculate uniform and the much practiced smile that emanated from his honest face. His eyes flicked behind her to his returning colleague and the smile briefly faltered. Regaining his composure, he continued.
'Would you like a lift home? We aren't really supposed to allow animals but I think an exception can be made.'
Maureen shuffled her furry burden to the opposite arm and returned the officer's smile.
'That won't be necessary. Although we both appreciate the offer.' The other officer was at the car and reaching for the in vehicle radio. 'We're just five minutes a
way and someone needs a bath.' She looked briefly behind her at the shirt in the earth. 'Do let me know if anything comes of this. Say goodbye Eva'
She turned to leave with a cheerful wave and Eva trotting merrily alongside. The radio on the young officer's vest squawked, relaying the transmission being made from the car.
'Yeah, it's a body. Send everyone to our position. We'll start setting up.'
The young officer's smile was totally gone now as he watched the charming Maureen saunter off towards her home. He sincerely hoped he'd succeeded in convincing her it was nothing before “Officer Tactful” had broadcast the fact that it was a body. He sighed and started back towards the car.
'Steve?' His partner flatly ignored him as he popped the boot and began to rummage. 'Steve?'
Steve straightened up and turned. If that guy had ever smiled, he was sure it was by accident. 'What?'
'You know you aren't meant to say “body” on the radio right? Especially not when your partner is still speaking to the witness who discovered it.'
The only response was a grunt and a shrug. He resumed his search and came up with two rolls of tape emblazoned with “POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS” over and over and over. He threw one across a little too hard and it bounced off the younger man's vest before he managed to juggle it under control.
'Well Dave, you keep chatting up the old biddies and petting the dugs and I'll keep on doing actual police stuff eh? How's that for a deal? Start barriering off and stop giving me grief.'
Dave clicked his heels together and stood ramrod straight, administering a sarcastic salute. 'Sir yes Sir.' Steve looked on impassive. 'No more being polite to the public Sir. I promise to kick all dogs and take sweets from all the kids and...'
He was cut off by the second roll of tape clouting him in the chest and falling to the ground. Steve still had a hold of the loose end.
'I take your point. Stop messing about and help.'’
Together they began to stretch out a cordon and wait for the cavalry.
Chapter 10
The flat buzzer broke through into a particularly pleasant dream that Luke Calvin had been enjoying and as he jerked into consciousness the details of the dream were already slipping away through his fingers as though he was trying to keep hold of a fistful of sand. The watch face on his wrist indicated it wasn't quite 8am and as he levered himself upright to put his feet on the ground and leave the security of his bed, there was a sleepy moan of protestation from the other side of the pillow. He glanced over his shoulder at the red hair fanned out over the pillowcase as the barmaid from the Bull turned over and nestled down further under the covers. Finding a pair of jogging bottoms with his bare feet, he pulled them on as he stood up and padded out into the hall bare chested. Yawning and stretching, he crossed to the receiver and looked in confusion at the screen that showed an unknown woman standing by the main entrance.
'Yes?' His voice was thick with sleep and his throat felt raw. 'Who is it?'
'My name is Claire, Mr. Calvin. We spoke on the phone several times?'
The Magistrate's secretary; the ice queen. What an unexpected surprise. He wondered what sort of bad news she was bringing him at this time in the morning. Without even bothering to tell her which flat was his, he depressed the buzzer and watched her walk in. The Magistrate had doubtless given his address to her. He'd probably posted it on every lamppost in the greater Lothian area. Great. Undoing the locks on the door and leaving the Yale off the snip, he crossed to the kitchen and busied himself with getting the coffee on. Once that was underway, he extracted a cigarette from the crumpled packet on his favourite table by the window and lit up just as a hesitant knock came at the door.
'It's open.' The smoke pooled in his lungs briefly before he blew a jet towards the ceiling and returned to the coffee, 'Come on in. I'm in the kitchen.'
The door opened and he heard the Yale lock being clicked back in place. In the kitchen, he took two mugs out and sat them ready. Pouring his own first, he filled it up and replaced the pot. Without turning around, he was aware of her presence behind him in the doorway.
'Good morning Mr. Calvin.' She sounded almost apologetic. 'I hope you don't mind the early visit.'
Her question was flatly ignored. 'How do you take your coffee?'
She paused for a moment before replying. 'Black as you can get it.'
Pouring out the second mug, he nodded towards the living room and heard her footfall quieten as she went through ahead of him. Entering with the two mugs held carefully he saw her for the first time, perched on the very edge of the sofa. Her hair was dark and worn loose, reaching well below her shoulders. She was wearing some sort of Lycra leggings and bright white trainers with a hoody that seemed to swamp her torso. As he placed the mug within easy reach of her on the table, she met his eyes for the first time and they were every bit as dark and fierce as she was. Luke was suddenly very aware that he was half dressed. Leaving her coffee on the table between them, he retrieved his burning cigarette from the ashtray in the kitchen and sat down opposite her with his mug cradled in one hand. She took a sip of her steaming mug and smiled at him.
'Good coffee.' Placing it back on the table, she gestured towards her legs. 'Excuse the get up, I was on my way to the gym.'
Luke's response was to glimpse briefly at his own exposed torso and smile back. 'I can safely say this isn't my usual attire for business meetings either.' He took a long drag and exhaled slowly. As usual, it was making him feel slightly more human. 'I'm assuming that's what this is.'
She had the mug in both hands drinking and seemed to nod her whole upper body in confirmation. There was something strangely innocent about her that she clearly worked very hard to cover up. Her eyes met his through the steam.
'What?'
Putting his mug down on the table, he leaned forward and pointed his right hand towards her. Making a circular motion that traced her outline in smoke, he looked confused.
'You don't look anything like I thought you would.' The cigarette jabbed in an accusatory manner before returning to his lip as he leaned back. 'You sounded very severe. Very imposing.'
She laughed and helped herself to a smoke from the packet. Extracting the lighter from beside it, she placed it between her lips and paused before sparking it and looking at him with a glint in her eye.
'You should see me in my glasses and skirt suit.'
Luke was sure he probably should. He waited for her to get her smoke going before he carried on. 'As enjoyable as this is, is there a particular reason you're dropping in on me first thing in the morning or were you just hoping for a free breakfast?'
'Magistrate Reid called me.' She let a thin trail of smoke trickle from her lips. Apparently someone found some remains on Arthur's Seat this morning.' Luke found a notebook and pen and motioned for her to continue. 'Some old dear walking her puppy this morning about seven. Not many details yet but he thought you should check it out before it turns into a circus.' She took another pull and washed it down with a swig of coffee. 'Might be nothing but he is understandably concerned.'
Luke wrote only a couple of lines before he set the book down. Crushing his cigarette out in the ashtray, he tucked his legs underneath him and reached for his cup.
'How is your boss finding out things like this so quickly?'
She shrugged again and continued drinking with one hand and smoking with the other. Luke assumed a man of Geoffrey's standing had plenty of unofficial contacts through the police force and beyond. Men like that always knew before the rest of the public, but this was truly an early notice. The reach of the Magistrate evidently extended further than he had initially given it credit for. The direct lines to the higher ups sort of came with the territory but he must have people in at the ground level to get this sort of access. His questioning continued:
'And why are you being dragged out of your personal time to pay a visit to some random investigator with this news?' His gaze shifted to the window and he stretched again, trying to see the
outline of the castle. 'It must drive your boyfriend mad.'
Claire reached up and pulled a stray strand of hair from her fringe out in front of her face and studied it closely. Her hands had no ring.
'I don't have a boyfriend at the moment as it goes. Not much free time with Mr. Reid.'
Her brown eyes took in the sparse decoration in the living room and the awkwardly tall frame of the man who sat in nothing but joggers on the chair opposite. His hair was hugely untidy, piled up in bunches here and there from sleep and his lean torso had several prominent scars; one that exploded out in a star shape from a circle on the right hand side of his ribcage and the other a straight slash diagonally down across the abdomen. The light blue eyes that were fixed on nothing out the window were still slightly sticky from waking up and a couple of days’ growth were visible on his chin. She safely assumed there was no feminine hand permanently on the tiller here. He turned his head from the window to address her again.
'I don't imagine either of our jobs keep normal office hours then.' Draining the dregs from the mug, he placed it on the table. 'Another thing we have in common.'
Her nose twitched slightly and she crushed her stub on the edge of the ashtray. She scanned the table in a futile search for a coaster before putting her mug down anyway. 'What else do we have in common then?'
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