The Trials of Sally Dunning and a Clerical Murder
Page 26
Karen blushed a dark pink and her dimples produced deep shadows. Tony was pleased she had not run out of the room threatening him but what was on her mind?
She stood up a foot or two away from him. Her arms drooped by her side.
‘Tony, will you kiss me?’
Tony smiled at her, raising his arms he stepped forward and held her close. He lowered his head and kissed both of her dimples. She closed her eyes. She pouted her lips and his met hers.
They parted, taking a step back.
‘I have to be honest. I simply had to let you go. Had you stayed on my books my professional standing was in question. I could have lost my job. Dating a patient, it’s a big no-no. But I could justify releasing you.’
‘Oh I hope not releasing me, just after we have kissed?’
‘I think we need to have time to talk. Get to know each other better. Are you free tomorrow night?’
‘Of course I am,’ she replied smiling from ear to ear.
‘But what about your music preparation on a Saturday night?’ he asked with concern etched on his brow.
‘I can cope I assure you,’ she said in a low sexy voice.
‘Let me take you to Primo Piano.’
‘The Italian restaurant?’
‘Yes, in town. I know the manager. He’ll give us some quiet discretion.’
‘Very thoughtful,’ she said.
Tony smiled relieved that his choice suited her. ‘Then I’ll pick you up from your home at 7.00pm?’
‘Just in case the neighbours pry, will you be in disguise?’ she teased.
‘Oh yes certainly. I intend to drop my professional guard.’
22
An Interrupted Meal
Tony had been on cloud nine all day. There had been a spring in his step. He polished his shoes and had a body cleansing thorough shower. He had ironed his new shirt the night before and had gone to bed wondering where this relationship might lead him. Was this to be a brief romance or something which might develop into something much more lasting? He just was not completely sure. Yet he knew he did not want to let her go. He certainly found Karen attractive. She was well educated and an expert in her musical sphere. He’d like to hear her play more. But was the keyboard a suitable suitor for the saxophone? He doubted that. The Belgian Adolphe Sax, who invented the saxophone, was generations in front of the middle aged baroque sonatas. He had not been in a relationship for some time. Was it too late for him to adjust his ways? The questions kept mounting to fill his grey matter. How much could it hold?
He wore a candy pink striped shirt and found a contrasting tie. Tie or no tie? Tie was for work; what image was he trying to create? He took off his tie and returned it to its rack. He found a lamb’s wool jersey and wore that instead. Now, a jacket or not? No, his leather jacket would get him there and then he’d discard it. That would be his smart/casual sartorial option. He hoped Karen had not dressed to the hilt.
He drove up to her driveway to find her closing her front door. There was neither need nor time for him to get out of the car. That might flummox the neighbours he thought on this first occasion although there was no doubt about Karen’s attire. She was going out on a date.
As they set off. Karen teased.
‘Do you want me to hide my face and slide down the seat?’
Tony laughed. ‘So you are in MI5?’
‘Too scary for me.’
‘Tell me; does music fill your head like words and images fill an author’s mind?’
‘Good question. I’ve not really thought about that. Do I hear music in my head? Yes, most of the time. Don’t you, after all you play music too?’
Tony thought for a moment. ‘Songs, tunes, yes a few times a day but not usually at work.’
‘So you don’t play Classic FM at lunchtime?
‘Lunchtime is Radio 4, the news,’ said Tony realising that was such a conservative response.
They spoke of music, naturally, sought out mutual friends or acquaintances and even tackled some doctrinal views before the car parked opposite Prima Piano.
‘Dr Scriven?’ inquired the head waiter.
‘Yes,’ replied Tony.
‘This way please, your table is over here, in the far corner.’
The waiter ensured they were comfortably seated and gave Tony the wine list and menu.
‘Here, have the menu. Meanwhile, can I interest you in a red, white or rosé wine?’
‘Do you drink yourself?’
‘Never when I’m driving. It means a whisky some nights and a beer with an evening meal sometimes. But you are not driving so enjoy a wine, why don’t you?’
‘Then this Beaujolais 2013 St Pierre de Vances, they do it in glasses as well as half bottles.’
‘Then a half bottle?’
‘Goodness no, that would make me sing! A glass will be more than sufficient.’
Orders were taken and Tony raised his ginger beer to her glass.
‘A toast. To a pleasant evening ....and an adventure begun.’
‘To a pleasant evening and ...what? An adventure begun?’ she laughed.
‘Yes, aren’t all new situations an adventure waiting to unravel?’ asked Tony.
Soon they had discovered Tony was her senior by three years. By the time the main course arrived they had learned each other’s backgrounds from birth to student days, first loves and what had brought them to the same town. There was only one other matter to investigate.
‘So divorce and no family?’
Tony wiped his mouth with his serviette.
‘Or why did I leave general practice to become a psychiatrist? It’s the same question for me. We had a daughter.....’
‘Had a daughter?’
Tony raised his hand gently to signal he had the floor. ‘Yes, had a daughter, Carole. She was a Christmas baby. Of course she was. A smart girl who had a satisfying childhood but the teenage years got to her. Anorexic she became. And two years later, we lost her. She slipped from our life; aged fourteen on the cusp of what should have been her best years. Absolutely devastated me.
Getting into her mind became my obsession and so I retrained to understand the condition better for the sake of others suffering with this dreadful disease. And that’s why I am a psychiatrist.’
‘Tony, I am so very sorry for you losing a daughter. It must be particularly hard for a father.’
Tony felt a tear gather, forming a congregation of sorrow but the waiter arrived with the profiteroles. They breathed under a lair of melted chocolate on Karen’s plate while Tony’s Eton Mess was served in a conical glass with a long spoon. They discovered they both had a sweet tooth.
Karen spoke of boyfriends in the past but none stood up to the mark when it came to her musical interests and her love of outdoor activities. She accepted marriage would slip by until one last chance came her way.
The waiter then escorted them over to the roaring fireplace and a twin seated alcove where coffee was served.
‘I see you like your coffee black,’ said Tony.
‘Yes milk takes away the flavour of the coffee. Do you usually have hot chocolate after dinner?’
Tony dropped his left hand onto Karen’s knee and lightly rubbed it. ‘Actually I quite like Horlicks, though it is not appropriate to reveal that on this first date.’
‘Why ever not? I do want to know the real Tony,’ she said playfully. Just as Tony was raising the romantic stakes his mobile phone went off.
‘Damn, I should have had that on silent mode. Do you mind?’
‘As long as it’s not a threesome you have in mind,’ she laughed but Tony already had the mobile to his ear.
‘Yes, okay. Then I should come over tonight?’
Karen saw the gravity on Tony’s face. A client needing his expertise at the hospital or clinic, Karen thought. Wel
l, how could she complain, after all that was how they first met all those weeks ago. Tony switched off his mobile and returned it to his pocket.
‘Karen, that was a McMillan nurse. Paul has been taken into hospital. It’s looking grim. I promised I’d see him before...well...before he died. Do you mind?’
‘Oh, I knew Paul well too. Can I come with you?’
‘Of course, I’d like you to.’
On the way to the hospital, they spoke of Paul’s departure from the Salvationists. Karen recalled donating to them for Christmas gifts for deprived children. She remembered Paul holding onto his trombone as he held a bucket. ‘He’s not very old is he?’
‘I think he’s fifty nine. Cancer comes to all ages. It makes him look older too.’
‘So you think he’s near death?’
‘We cannot be sure. The will to live is strong in some but I don’t think he’ll get home again.’
‘Do you think a strong faith can make a dying patient hold out?’
‘I am sure it can. But what’s the point. We all die.’
It seemed a practical reply. She liked Tony’s clear thinking.
They made their way to the town’s general hospital at the end of the by-pass. Tony was on home territory. They made their way to the cancer unit and the control desk.
‘Dr Scriven. It is good to see you, I haven’t seen you for a while,’ said the middle-aged desk nurse. Is it a relative or patient you have come to visit?’ she asked noting Dr Scriven’s casual attire.
‘A patient, Paul Risk. Is he able to take visitors?’
‘Yes, he’s under an anaesthetic you understand. His speech may be a bit slurred.’
‘I don’t think I’ve met your wife Dr Scriven,’ she said smiling at Karen.
Tony turned round, ‘No, Dr Kane has joined me this evening.’
‘Oh I am sorry. Jumping to wrong conclusions, do forgive me,’ said the nurse blushing. ‘Please follow me and I will lead you to him.’
They walked along the dimly lit corridor to a single room where they entered and saw Paul with his eyes closed lying propped up on his back.
‘I’ll leave you with him,’ said the nurse drawing a second chair up for Dr Kane. ‘Let me know if you need anything else Doctor,’ she said looking first at Tony and then Karen with an apologetic misunderstanding look. She left closing the door behind her.
They sat together on either side of his bed in silence for a few moments then Tony stretched out his hand and held Paul’s wrist.
Paul opened his eyes a few seconds later and tried to focus.
‘Tony?’ Paul said in a whisper.
‘Yes, Paul and I’ve also brought Karen Kane.’
Paul turned his head and tried to focus on Karen.
‘Oh, I thought you’d come alone.’
Karen jolted. ‘Then perhaps I should be excused?’
‘No, Karen. I’m glad you are both here. Yes, very glad you are both here.’
‘It’s okay Paul don’t exhaust yourself,’ said Tony
Paul nodded and turned his head towards his travel clock.
‘It’s late. I’ve been sleeping a lot so I’m quite alert. How about you both?’
Karen wanted to say where they had been but thought that inappropriate. Tony was less reserved.
‘We went out for a meal, that’s when I got the message from the nurses.’
‘Sorry I spoiled your night,’ said Paul trying to raise the white sheet further up. Karen did it for him.
‘You have nothing to be sorry about, Paul.’
Paul’s eyes fell down to the bed covers. He tried to clear his throat. He coughed a few times.
‘Paul....and Karen, I have a lot to be sorry about.’
‘Don’t you worry. You must not talk like this.
Just relax. Don’t get bothered,’ said Karen.
‘But I must be honest with you. I...killed Farook.’
The atmosphere froze.
‘What?’ said Tony who raised his voice as Karen’s lips said the same silently.
‘Yes, if you go down to my back garden and look under the green hut, you will find the Islamic Kindjal.It’s a traditional Afghan warrior’s knife. It will be there. I put it there after I killed Farook.’
‘You Paul, killed Farook? But why?’
Paul tried to sit up. Tony helped him.
‘You did not know Farook completely, did you? I mean, you knew he was gay?’
Tony had no knowledge of what he was saying.
‘Yes the Mosque knew he wanted to modernise their worship and be more multicultural but they got rid of him because they found out he was gay. That depressed him and so he tried to take his life, but that I am sure you knew.’
‘Okay,’ said Tony realising he had missed a very important side to Farook. ‘But what’s that got to do with you?’
‘You have my file. You know I had difficulty dealing with my sexuality. A paedophile no less. But that was a long time ago. My identity remained in question. But I got to know Farook and wondered if we could live together. I went to his house and tried to have sex with him. He was not as keen as I was and I was too forceful, I know I was. That’s when Farook took the decorative Kindjal from the wall. I knew he wanted to kill me. I saw it in his eyes, so I fought with him and managed to get it from him. I should have stopped there.’ Paul’s eyes were watering. They were not crocodile tears.
‘You mean you stabbed him to death?’
Paul nodded. ‘Yes, Tony. God knows how many times I did it but once I started I knew I had to go through with it.
If only it hadn’t been that way. If he had not displayed that knife on the wall, it would not have ended as it did.’
The ward fell silent for a moment as the reality sank in. Before them was the man who murdered Frank. God how the trail led to him no one could have imagined.
Then Tony remembered what Superintendent Graham had said about catch one and he’d solve the other offence.
‘Paul, did you have anything to do with the explosion at the cemetery?’ asked Tony.
Paul nodded for a while before informing them.
‘The murder focussed on the Muslim community because Farook had been exiled from them but I felt it would not find an accused there, no matter how long they tried. After his funeral service there would be a cremation. I knew Muslims did not cremate and so that would strengthen the conclusion that a Muslim had been behind the explosion. With both incidents leaning towards the Muslim community, I felt I would not be found out.’
‘But Paul, why are you telling us this now?’ asked Karen.
‘You might not believe me, but I wanted to meet my Maker with guilt yes, but also with the knowledge that no one else can be sought for these offences. Does that make sense?’
‘Yes Paul. But having told us, we must relay this evidence to the police.’
‘Yes, I accept that. I accept that.’
The nurse came in at that point and checked his blood pressure. ‘Dr Scriven, I think Mr Risk has had a long enough chat. You may wish to come tomorrow.’
‘Yes, I think that would be in order. Sleep well Paul,’ said Tony.
‘Paul, thank you. You did the right thing,’ said Karen.
23
You Are My Sunshine
Tony asked for an appointment with the Chief Superintendent at the front desk. The secretary phoned and the C/Supt placed the phone back on the cradle.
‘He does not wish to see you,’ she said lowering her glasses to peer over them
Tony huffed. ‘Perhaps you can inform him that I know the name of the murderer and who planted the bomb at the crematorium.’
The secretary relayed the additional information with a smile at Tony.
Three minutes later Chief Superintendent Rae arrived downstairs to meet Tony.
Tony did not fall for his antics. He remained serious. ‘Indeed I have. You may wish to know that I also know where the Kindjal is.’
‘Kindjal? Dr Scriven.’
‘Yes, a Kindjal, an Afghan knife, the murder weapon.’
Later that morning the Kindjal was in police possession as a production. The police then went to the hospital and took a fingerprint and three hours later they returned with a duty solicitor to the ward for Paul Risk to be charged with the murder of Farook Elahi aka Frank Armour and the attempted murder of mourners at the crematorium. The police report was then sent to the Procurator Fiscal who noted the accused was not in custody.
Paul’s condition deteriorated overnight. The effort exerted by him in revealing the truth had weakened him. A higher doze of morphine was delivered.
Fiscal Fiona Harvie came to visit Mr Paul Risk in hospital to ascertain his state of mind and psyche. She could not waken him from his deep slumber but she left his statement for him to sign if he was able. She returned to her desk knowing that as he was not in custody, she did not have to expedite the case.
Two days later Paul died. The same day the weekly Standard blazed on its front page:
MAN ACCUSED OF FAROOK ELAHI’s
MURDER AND ATTEMPTED MASS MURDER
AT THE CREMATORIUM.
Full story on pages 1, 3 and 4.
Tony had a copy of the paper when he called at Karen’s home an hour earlier than his usual closing time.
When he entered her house, she turned round after closing the door and smiled. They stood like guilty children for a moment then Tony took a step forward and Karen raised herself up on her tiptoes. They kissed.