“Dermot joins us from the Royal and Diplomatic unit. He will be working with us until Alice returns from maternity leave.” She paused and nodded in the man’s direction. “We are very lucky to have an officer of Dermot’s experience and specialist training joining our team. He has a first-class Classics degree from Oxford to his name.”
Muir shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with his academic prowess being announced so publicly. “Thank you, Ma’am. I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”
Dani turned back to the assembled group. “There will be drinks in the boardroom at 5 o’clock this afternoon. The DCS is opening a bottle of sparkling to welcome Dermot to the department. I’ll see you all there later. For now, it’s back to work folks.”
DS Andy Calder watched his boss lead the new recruit to the desk by the window which had previously belonged to both Phil Boag and Alice Mann. He grunted, “and guess why boyo has been singled out for the red-carpet treatment by the DCS?”
DS Sharon Moffett, who sat opposite, cracked a weary smile. “Watch out Andy, that chip on your shoulder is showing again. Do you want salt and vinegar on it?”
Andy raised his hands in mock exasperation. “Come on, I’ve never known DCS Douglas to crack open the bubbly for an officer covering a maternity leave before. Of course, if that officer happens to be an Oxford graduate, well, hell, let’s lay on a finger buffet while we’re at it!”
Sharon chuckled. She knew Andy’s inverted snobbery and hostility to career police officers tended to skew his judgement on occasion, but in this instance, she felt he had a point. Her transfer from City and Borders a couple of years before hadn’t warranted anything more extravagant than a box of doughnuts from the all-night store on the corner of Pitt Street. She frowned. “Alice had better watch she doesn’t stay away too long.”
“Precisely,” Andy added with considerable feeling.
Sharon couldn’t ignore the irony. Not so long ago, it was DI Alice Mann who Andy considered to be the overly-educated cuckoo in the nest.
Dani noticed how Sharon and Andy had their heads bent together, their voices lowered in a muttered conversation. She’d known Calder long enough to recognise the danger signs. After logging Muir onto the system, she headed purposefully towards their workstation. “Andy, any progress on the unexplained deaths at the hotel in Trongate?”
Calder shifted up in his seat. “The next-of-kin have been notified, Ma’am. We are just awaiting the results of the post mortems now. We were lucky the family didn’t demand their bodies be flown home. Sharon has taken witness statements from some of their fellow guests.”
Dani turned to the DS, who had pulled her corkscrew curls back into a tight bun. “Did the witnesses say anything useful, Sharon?”
“Only that the Bauers had eaten in the hotel restaurant the evening before they died. I’ve sent the SOCOs into the kitchens to check for traces of E coli and the like.”
Dani nodded. “Dermot is going to take charge of the case. He’s getting himself up-to-speed right now. Carry on with what you’re doing for the time-being, but you’ll take your orders from him in future. Okay?”
The officers both nodded obediently, but Dani noticed the meaningful looks they flashed one another as she spun on her heels and returned to her office. She didn’t have time to deal with any nonsense now. They’d simply have to get used to the new status quo, and fast.
*
Dani completed her paperwork before flicking Rhodri Morgan’s email message onto the screen of her phone. The Carlisles had been prompt in providing the name of the officer in the Metropolitan Police who had handled their daughter’s death.
She sighed heavily before calling the switchboard to request his office number. She had it jotted down on the notebook in front of her in minutes.
It was late in the afternoon, and Dani hoped this would mean the man would be at his desk.
The line buzzed only momentarily before it was answered. “DI Lawrence,” a voice at the other end barked.
“DI Nathan Lawrence? This is DCI Dani Bevan from Police Scotland. I’ve got a couple of questions to ask, if I may.”
“Certainly, Ma’am. What can I assist you with?”
His tone sounded uncertain. She’d clearly taken him by surprise. “I’ve been contacted by the parents of Autumn Carlisle, the woman found dead in her flat in Hillingdon.” She felt this explanation was close enough to the truth to suffice. “They’ve asked me to double-check a few issues related to the investigation.”
Lawrence let out an audible sigh. “I thought they might go over my head. I could tell Mr Carlisle wasn’t satisfied with our conclusions.”
“I have no intention of treading on your toes, DI Lawrence. But it’s a difficult situation. The couple have lost their daughter and had no clue she was suicidal. They just want to be certain, that’s all.”
“Well, as you know, Ma’am, that isn’t always possible. But fire away, what are the couple concerned about specifically?”
“There were no prints found on the razor. Did your techies think it could have been wiped?”
“They said it was possible, but more likely, any prints were washed away by the water from the shower, which was running for approximately one hour after Autumn’s time of death.”
Dani made a note. “And the clothes which had been laid neatly on the bed. Our consultant psychologist suggests this behaviour was too organised for someone about to kill themselves in such a violent way.”
There was a pause on the line, before the officer replied, “I did find that odd, I must admit. But again, we consulted with the shrink on our own books. She said it would fit with Autumn being a very organised and methodical person. Cutting her wrists in the running water meant the scene would be clean for anyone finding her. It indicated a clinical, ordered approach to the suicide, matched by the clothes being so neatly presented.”
Dani crinkled her brow. “Surely by that logic, Autumn would have never left anything out on the bed at all. She wouldn’t have wanted to leave any loose ends behind her. And there was no suicide note. It seems she was close to her parents, they spoke every week. It doesn’t make sense. A highly organised personality would surely have written a note. Did you find anything on her computer or phone?”
The DI was clearly working hard to keep the frustration out of his tone. “There were no unusual messages on her social media accounts. But there was also no sign of a break-in at the flat. No prints other than those belonging to the victim were discovered in that bedroom. The place had been fully re-furbished before she moved in and the neighbours swear there’d not been a single visitor since.”
“But this is London we’re talking about. Do people really notice the comings and goings of their neighbours?” Dani hadn’t intended to be so argumentative, but the man’s stubborn attitude was managing to wind her up. “Have her friends and work colleagues been questioned? I’d like to take a look at the transcripts of the interviews.”
“Of course, Ma’am. I’ll have them emailed over to you by first thing tomorrow morning. Now, if there’s nothing more, I’ve got work to do.”
Before Dani could respond, the line went dead. She stared at the receiver for a full minute before replacing it with some force. “What an arsehole,” she muttered to herself, before shaking the encounter from her mind and checking the clock that hung over the door. It was gone five o’clock, time to head to the boardroom before the DCS cracked open the bubbly without her.
Chapter 3
Sharon had clipped her unruly curls back from her plump, rosy face for her visit to the kitchens of the Berkley Hotel. The DS wanted to avoid being forced to wear one of those hats that resembled a shower cap. Andy would never stop ripping the piss if she did. It wouldn’t be beyond him to take a picture of her in it on his phone and plaster printouts all over the noticeboard. She couldn’t take the risk.
As it happened, the hotel manager, Mr Bartlett, steered her away from the service area to a salubriou
s ground floor office instead.
“Please take a seat, Detective Sergeant. I can have some afternoon tea brought in for us?” The man was tall and impeccably dressed in an expensive, tailored suit.
“That won’t be necessary, Sir. I just want to run through our forensic results with you.” Sharon perched her ample weight on the arm of a velvet sofa. She flipped open her tablet.
The manager paled. “Do I need to contact our lawyer?”
Sharon’s expression softened. “Let’s discuss the details first.”
He pulled up a chair and folded himself into it. “Go ahead.”
“Firstly, the results from the examination of your kitchens indicated no evidence of food poison toxins on the worktops or the leftover items in the bins. In fact, our SOCOs think you well deserve your 5-star hygiene rating. In addition to this, no other guests who ate in the dining room on the evening of the 28th have experienced any health problems.”
The manager shifted up in his seat. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
Sharon held up her hand. “But the post mortem results weren’t quite so conclusive. Both Mr and Mrs Bauer had mild heart complaints, for which they took medicine prescribed for them back in Frankfurt. It seems they both suffered congestive heart failure during the night. There was evidence of moderate alcohol consumption in both victims which would have taken place in the 12 hours before, but not enough to explain their deaths.” Sharon leant forward. “In brief, the PMs were inconclusive as to cause of death. Our pathologist says it is extremely uncommon for two people to die in their sleep within hours of one another in the same bed without some outside cause. But to be honest, Sir, at this point in time we can’t find one.”
The hotel manager’s posture slumped. “I am very sorry for Mr and Mrs Bauer and their family, but this is also terrible news for the hotel and our entire chain. If there is no explanation, people will blame the hotel. Our owner will not be pleased.”
Sharon shrugged. “We will continue our investigations, but right now, I can’t provide you with any clear answers. I’ve got to say as much to the next-of-kin, when they arrive tomorrow.”
“Yes, that will certainly be a difficult conversation.” His head lifted, and a flicker of optimism danced across his lined features. “Perhaps we could offer the family free accommodation whilst they are here? I could set aside the premier suite for their use?”
Sharon got to her feet. “I’ll pass the offer on,” she replied without enthusiasm. “But something tells me they may just decide to find a different hotel.”
*
James was filling the dishwasher when Dani returned home to their flat in Scotstounhill. He glanced up as she entered the kitchen.
“Sorry, darling. I wasn’t expecting you back so early. I’ve already eaten.”
Dani slid onto one of the chairs at the dining table. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix myself something later. I wanted to look through the evidence the Met sent me on the Autumn Carlisle case in peace.”
James moved across the room and bent down to place a kiss on her lips. “The suicide that Rhodri is connected to?”
“That’s right. I got the distinct impression the investigating officer did not appreciate my interference.”
James lifted down a couple of goblets from a cupboard, filling them from a half empty wine bottle on the counter. “Well, would you like it if a superior officer from another division started questioning your findings on a case?”
Dani grunted, before taking a gulp from her glass. “Probably not. But as a DI I would have been diplomatic enough not to show it.”
James slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Ah, the younger generation. They’ve got no manners.”
Dani laughed. “He’s not that much younger than us!”
“Speaking of which, how is your wunderkind new recruit to the department settling in?”
“Dermot? He seems very bright. I left him discussing the Berkley Hotel deaths with Sharon and Andy. I might try to hang onto him after Alice returns, we’ve been short-staffed for months.”
“I’m sure Andy will love that. Oxbridge fast-trackers are just the kind of people he enjoys taking orders from.” James arched his eyebrows wickedly.
Dani shrugged, reaching down to massage her stockinged foot. “He’ll just have to get used to it. Dermot seems like a decent guy. If Andy wants more power over his life at Pitt Street, he should take the inspector exams himself.”
“I think he enjoys heckling from the sidelines too much.”
“Precisely. I like Sharon a great deal; I believe she’s an excellent, intuitive detective, but I’m not sure she and Andy are a good influence on each other. When I’ve got more staff, I’ll be able to mix them up; start pairing them with other officers.”
“You sound like a schoolteacher, separating the naughty ones.”
“Sometimes, managing the department feels exactly like that.” Dani drained her glass and turned her attention to the pile of papers in front of her.
*
It struck Dani that DI Lawrence’s officers had done a reasonably thorough job. Autumn Carlisle had only been working at Lomond Airlines for six months before her death. The Met officers interviewed her fellow cabin crew and immediate boss at Lomond, but also spoke with some of her previous colleagues at BA, where she had worked for most of her career.
The witness statements seemed to echo one another; Autumn was a capable, motivated individual who was always extremely business-like in the workplace. Her boss at Lomond had been shocked to hear of her death. He felt she’d settled in very well leading her new team. Autumn had managed the crew on a recent flight to Amsterdam which had gone perfectly smoothly, according to the written reports.
The only hint of dissension came from one of the stewardesses she was managing. Dani flicked back through the papers to take a note of her name. Kathy Brice. She had told the Met officer who interviewed her that Autumn had been jumpy on that flight to Amsterdam; constantly mopping beads of sweat from her face, despite the temperature-controlled environment. Her boss had been short in response to passengers’ requests. She hadn’t exuded her usual calm, patient persona.
Dani shuffled through the printed-out transcripts one more time. Autumn appeared to have had few friends outside of the workplace. Her parents gave the names of a few previous boyfriends, but none had been on the scene for at least a year.
James clicked on the main light as he entered the room. “You’ll strain your eyes reading those documents in the dark,” he admonished. “Do you want a coffee, I’m making some?”
She shook her head. “Have you ever known someone who has worked for an airline – cabin crew, I mean?”
James filled the coffee machine with beans. The kitchen was suddenly flooded with the sharp, bitter aroma. He pulled a face. “Actually, I dated an air stewardess for a while, when I was living down in London. Years ago, now.”
Dani lifted her head. “Why did the relationship end?”
“Jeanette was working on the long-haul flights from Gatwick. It was difficult to match one-another’s schedules. It just fizzled out. To be honest, she was very attractive, but we didn’t have much in common.”
“What was the appeal of the job for her, do you know?”
James ran a hand through his greying hair. “She loved the travel and meeting new people. Jeanette said she got a real buzz each time the plane took off, like anything in the world was possible. But it was a bugger if you wanted to put down roots.”
Dani nodded. “I can imagine that.” She moved across to put her arms around him. “I expect it could be a lonely life too. Autumn must have spent hundreds of nights alone in hotel rooms.”
James nuzzled her cheek. “Maybe she wasn’t alone,” he muttered in her ear.
She pulled back. “I suppose that’s true. Autumn was a very attractive woman, who laid out matching lingerie to wear under her work clothes. To imagine that she was celibate simply because there was no permanent boyfriend on the scene is probabl
y naïve.”
“But does her sex life have any bearing on whether the woman committed suicide or not?”
Dani sighed heavily. “Without more information, I really couldn’t say.”
“Then let’s call it a night.” He twisted a stray lock of her hair between his fingers.
“Sure,” she said resignedly. “I can call Rhodri in the morning.”
Chapter 4
Dermot Muir had organised his work station just as he wanted it. The cumbersome PCs which some of the desks still accommodated were not for him. He’d called down to tech support to have his terminal disconnected and removed within minutes of arrival.
Everything was on the cloud these days, including the Police Scotland databases. The DI wouldn’t need anything other than his tablet and phone to keep up-to-date. It meant he could also write his reports from home, which would hopefully keep his girlfriend Serena happy.
She’d not been impressed with the long hours he’d worked shadowing members of the diplomatic service. It was the reason he’d taken the temporary job at the SCU; he was hoping to save his relationship.
Sharon approached his desk. “The Bauers’ son has arrived in reception, boss.”
He got to his feet. “Has he identified the bodies?”
She nodded. “One of the uniforms gave him a lift here after visiting the morgue.”
“Have him sent to one of the interview rooms, please.”
“Sure thing.”
“And will you come and talk to him with me? You are the one with the greatest knowledge of the case.”
“Of course. By the way, the pathologist told me he has perfect English.”
“The Germans usually do.”
Sharon smiled. She decided the new DI might be an okay guy after all.
*
Stefan Bauer looked to be in his mid-forties. He wore brown corduroy trousers and a cotton shirt, open at the neck. Sharon thought he appeared as shaken as she would expect someone to be after just viewing the dead bodies of both their parents.
The Eye in the Dark Page 2
