Perfect Death: The gripping new crime book you won’t be able to put down!. Helen Fields
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She handed Jeremy a form requiring basic details – address, National Insurance number, telephone contact, next of kin for emergency purposes – and a pen, then she disappeared out to rattle cups and teaspoons around in a sink. He filled the form in quickly then glanced around Cordelia Muir’s office. A family photo took pride of place on her desk. She was with her children. An older girl and a boy, taken a little while ago judging by the changes in Cordelia. Research had told Jeremy that her daughter was away at university while her son was attending sixth form college in Edinburgh. He wondered if she would mind him picking the photograph up, watching her through the glass partition as she opened the fridge door to put a carton of milk away.
‘You have beautiful children,’ Jeremy said as she walked back in holding two mugs.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, putting the steaming liquid down in front of him, showing no concern about him holding the precious image. ‘My husband passed away a couple of years ago. He was terminally ill when we had that photo taken. My daughter has coped better than my son. Randall is only seventeen. I think boys need a man around to help them through those transitional years.’ She smiled.
‘My father died when I w-was two,’ Jeremy said, putting the photo back down on the desk. ‘He and my mother were in a coach crash. My foster parents tried their hardest but teenage years are tough. I w-wasn’t very forgiving.’
‘I’m sure you were no worse than any other teenage boy, and it must have been harder for you than most. Your parents would have been proud of you now.’ She smiled. ‘You’ve filled in the form already? Wonderful. How about you come in Monday morning? I’m starting a new project and I’d appreciate some help with it. Nothing very glamorous I’m afraid, but I’d love to have you here.’
Jeremy beamed, taking a sip of coffee with shaking hands.
‘That w-would be great,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Mrs Muir.’
‘Cordelia. First name terms only in here,’ she said. ‘I feel as if fate brought you to us, Jeremy. I’m a great believer in fate. Welcome to the team.’
* * *
DI Callanach was waiting in Ava Turner’s office at the police station. He stood as she entered.
‘Luc,’ she said. ‘What’s the news on the body at Arthur’s Seat?’
‘Nothing much yet, ma’am,’ Callanach said, sitting once she’d waved him back into his chair.
‘Could you please not call me ma’am? I mean, yes in front of other people, but not when it’s just us. You know I’m uncomfortable with it.’
‘I’m uncomfortable without it,’ he replied. ‘I heard about the Chief. I wanted to see how you’re doing and check if there’s anything I can help with.’
‘You want to get falling down drunk with me later, make sure I get home safely, hold my hair while I throw up then sit next to me all night to make sure I don’t choke?’ Ava put her head on the desk in front of her. ‘God, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Does everyone know?’
‘Sergeant Lively knows,’ Luc said. ‘So it might as well have been publicly broadcast. And I will, if that’s what you need me to do.’ Ava looked confused. ‘Hold your hair and make sure you don’t choke.’
‘I’m sure you have better things to do with your evening,’ Ava said, guessing he probably didn’t. Callanach had model looks that never failed to turn heads in public, but a false rape allegation made by a coworker during his time as an Interpol agent had made him reclusive in his private life. ‘I have work to do anyway. Tell me about the girl at Arthur’s Seat.’
‘Her name’s Lily Eustis. Nineteen years of age. In a gap year before university mainly because she was working to save money for her tuition fees. She was due to begin studying medicine next September at St Andrews. Her family has been notified. Mum, dad, one sister. I responded to the call but it’s not looking like a matter for the Major Investigation Team. Initial findings are that cause of death was hypothermia.’
‘How did she get all the way up there?’ Ava asked.
‘We don’t have the answer to that yet. She doesn’t own a car, lives with her parents. Apparently, she went out last night to meet a friend at a pub, and didn’t come home. That’s unusual but not completely unknown, although the parents say that normally she’d have phoned to let them know where she was staying.’
‘Have you spoken to the friend?’ Ava asked, scribbling notes.
‘No one knows who it was. Parents suspect it was a male but they’re not certain. Her sister has been calling Lily’s friends but none of them have any further information.’
‘Let’s keep it with MIT for now. Ailsa should be doing Lily’s autopsy as a priority. Keep me updated.’
Callanach stood up. ‘Why don’t you let me drop you home later?’ he said. ‘You can leave your car here. I’ll pick you up and bring you back in tomorrow.’
‘You think I’m incapable of driving now? I’m sad, Luc, not drunk,’ Ava said. She sighed. ‘God, I’m sorry. I’m not handling this very well. It was good of you to offer but I’ll be fine, really. I have to update the squad about the Chief’s death. They’ll want what details I’ve got. Can you organise everyone into the briefing room for 3pm?’
‘I can,’ Callanach said. ‘The drone footage from Lily Eustis’ death will be available by then. I’ll organise a copy for you to see after the briefing.’
‘Good, then we can visit Ailsa at the mortuary together.’ Ava’s phone rang. Callanach made his way out. ‘Hold on, Luc,’ she called after him. ‘You’re sure?’ she asked the person at the end of the phone. ‘You checked her identification? No, don’t show her up yet. I need to talk to him first. He’s in my office. Give me five minutes. I’ll call you back.’
Luc stood with his back against Ava’s door, hands in his pockets, head to one side.
‘Is it Astrid?’ he asked. ‘I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone forever but walking in here, after what she did …’
‘It’s not her,’ Ava said. She knew how hard it would have been for Luc to have faced Astrid – the woman who had set him up on a false rape charge. In many ways, seeing the woman waiting for him downstairs was going to be even worse. ‘Luc, I don’t know what’s happened. She hasn’t offered any explanation for why she’s here, but your mother is downstairs.’
Luc ran a hand through his hair, looking for words but finding none.
‘I don’t want to see her,’ he said finally, as Ava made her way around her desk to stand nearer to him.
‘I understand,’ Ava said. ‘You’ve every right to feel like that. She abandoned you when you needed her …’
‘It wasn’t just abandonment. You couldn’t possibly understand. I was accused of a rape I didn’t commit. It was devastating. I wasn’t even sure I had the strength to make it through to the trial. My mother was the one person who should have known, without question, that I didn’t