Annabel Jackson, described by Ellie’s work colleagues as her closest friend, was still clearly upset at Ellie’s death. She had answered his questions, describing her late friend as loving, kind, loyal and caring though also someone who suffered desperate mood swings that could shut her off for weeks from her friends and blighted her life. The description of her tallied with that from her work colleagues, other friends and the medicine McIntyre found at her flat. Ellie Saunders suffered from a bipolar disorder. That would surely be confirmed when they had access to her medical records.
The name Euan Hunter had popped up repeatedly during the various interviews and Tosh was keen to interview him. Like Ellie he was a keen climber and they had been an item on and off for years. A discreet call to his workplace revealed he had left three days previously and was in South Korea overseeing a construction project. He would not be back soon and Tosh doubted his seniors in the Force would approve a trip to Seoul.
Hunter did not have a Facebook account so Tosh had to rely on what he could glean from Ellie’s friends. They had described him as quiet and thoughtful but good fun when in company. They also said he had remained completely infatuated with Ellie throughout their torrid relationship. Murderers usually know their victims, so he had to be a suspect. However, short of an unreasonable request that Hunter fly back to the UK immediately, Tosh knew he would have to sit out the ten days.
McIntyre’s sudden entrance into the office at Fort William disturbed his thoughts. The detective sergeant had been to Edinburgh, charged with obtaining the medical records and bank details of Ellie Saunders.
‘Right, what did you find out?’
‘Good morning to you too. How are you this fine but chilly day in Fort William?’
‘Yes, good morning. Pray tell what you have discovered in our capital city?’
‘Right, I got the medical records and spoke to her doctor for a few minutes,’ McIntyre pulled up a chair. ‘She told me that Ellie was not a frequent patient to the practice, and it was clear she did not trust the medical profession. She did suffer from a bipolar disorder and had reluctantly agreed to a course of treatment.’
‘Reluctantly?’
‘Ellie didn’t believe in taking drugs. She preferred natural remedies from plants,’ he made inverted commas with his fingers. ‘Things had obviously deteriorated, and the doctor had used the threat of putting her into a psychiatric hospital against her will if she became a danger to herself.’
‘God, a section! That’s pretty drastic.’
‘From what the doctor said it was never at that stage. But her mood had been low, she’d had quite dark thoughts and the doctor had slipped the word into the conversation. It apparently shook Ellie a bit and she had agreed to take the medication although the doc wasn’t sure if she took the pills regularly and was concerned that there might be side effects if taken with any of her natural remedies.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Ellie had been referred by her doctor to a specialist in mental illness but had never gone. She told the doc she saw a private counsellor who was apparently brilliant.’
‘Did you get a name?’
‘Sorry boss, nothing on the medical records to indicate who he or she might be.’
‘That’s a pity. We’ll need to see if we can track this counsellor down. Was there anything interesting from the bank?’
‘She’d made a fair amount of money from the businesses and invested it well. The bank acted as her financial adviser, and the guy there reckoned she was probably worth over three hundred thousand and that didn’t include her flat in Edinburgh.’
‘Any sign of a will?’
‘I phoned her solicitor in Edinburgh before I spoke to the bank. God that was so frustrating. These guys don’t want to be talking to anyone they can’t send a bill to. The woman on the desk kept saying that Mr Crawford is busy with a client. Is it urgent? Eventually I told her it was concerning a recent murder and that she was wasting police time. I got put through to some lowly associate. It seems there is no will known to her solicitors, yet when I asked the bank manager later, she said she and an associate had signed her will as witnesses. Ellie did not deposit it with the bank either.’
‘So who drew it up for her and where is it now?’
‘You can get a template online and make them up yourself these days. Her flat’s been searched thoroughly now so I doubt it’s there. Maybe it’s at her parents’ house?’
Tosh sighed; he was not going to stir up the grief her parents would be feeling by asking them if they had her will. The pace of the investigation seemed painfully slow and there were no obvious leads apart from maybe Euan Hunter. Tosh wondered if he should ask Hunter’s work for a contact number in Seoul.
‘You mentioned a cheque for £500 that was cashed?’
‘It was made out to a homeless charity. Apparently, she had made regular donations before.’
‘We’re moving at a snail’s pace here. The papers are calling it ‘Murder on the Ben’ and these bastards will be happy if we can’t solve it and they can print that there’s a murderer with an ice axe running loose up the mountains.’
‘I could try her friends again and see if she’s ever mentioned a counsellor to them.’
‘I’ll phone this Hunter bloke when I get his mobile number.’
‘There’s been a break in at The Cruachan, one of the hotels in Fort William. I’ll need to get over there today.’
‘No one else available?’ his boss groaned although he knew the question was rhetorical. There would be other low-level cases that had to be covered.
McIntyre rose to his feet, shaking his head. ‘It’s four o’clock. I’ll spend an hour getting statements and see what the story is then I’ll head back to Edinburgh tomorrow morning.’
‘Right, thanks Ian.’
‘I did find something else that was of real interest.’
‘What was that?’
‘She’s single, no boyfriend and might even be up for going for a drink with you?’
Tosh burst out laughing. It was welcome news, bringing some light relief from what was proving to be a frustrating case.
‘How did you find out?’
McIntyre just tapped the side of his nose with his finger. ‘I’m not at liberty to give away the names of my sources.’
Chapter 12
After about twenty minutes, and stunned by Serafini’s ‘confession’, Martin Lewis suggested a move from the Newcastle pub to a small cafe close by. Lewis had arrived by car which ruled out consumption of alcohol and the place was now getting busier and noisy.
From the start Serafini had wrung a promise of absolute confidentiality from his friend. It is standard counselling practice to assure a client that nothing discussed will be repeated – unless the client’s safety or that of others is jeopardised. He had told Lewis if that put him in an awkward position then they could talk about the weather. His friend had agreed.
‘You have no excuse for not reporting this,’ he declared with a shrug of his shoulders after their coffee arrived. ‘You weren’t on holiday in some remote island in the Pacific and missed all the TV reports. I don’t watch much telly and I saw it. You weren’t hit on the head with subsequent amnesia, and you weren’t ill in hospital with a raging fever. You climbed up this mountain and had sex with a woman who was then promptly murdered. You don’t have any option other than to go to the police immediately.’
There was alarm and anxiety in Lewis’s voice, urging Serafini to go to the police immediately and make a full statement before their enquiries inevitably led them to his door. It was the same reply Serafini would have given if the situation was reversed. He doubted he would take his friend’s advice but there was some relief at finally talking to someone about his predicament and he knew he could trust this man.
‘I’m hoping they find her killer and the case is closed w
ithout my involvement.’
‘They’ll have found your DNA and it won’t match that of the killer if or when they find him.’
‘I know that as well.’
‘Did you see anyone on the mountain that night?’
‘There was a climber who passed us in the dark on the way up. He was gone within seconds. We had our hoods up and there was no way he could have recognised either of us.’
‘What if he’s gone to the police? He’ll have given a description of someone your height and build.’
Serafini shrugged, ‘it was snowing, and we were bent over in the wind. I’m not worried - about that bit anyway.’
Lewis held his coffee cup up to the waitress as a signal for a top-up. When she had gone, he reached over and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
‘How’s Katie?’
Serafini closed his eyes, shaking his head. The reference to his wife flooded his mind with pain and regret. She was struggling with her father as the dementia scoured out the last remnants of memory leaving an empty shell of what used to be an intelligent and thoughtful human being. The revelation of Serafini’s infidelity and the subsequent media furore would surely hurt her beyond description and destroy their relationship. Their children would be unbelievably upset and might not speak to him again.
‘She’s not great,’ he replied at last. ‘Her father’s dementia has got worse and he struggles to even recognise the two of us now.’
‘That’s tough, I take it that’s part of the reason for your reluctance to go to the police?’
‘I didn’t kill Ellie, but as soon as I contact the police then I’m the prime suspect. I’m scared I’ll be charged, and they’ll stop looking for the real killer. Then my life will be over.’
‘You need to turn yourself in John and you know that. Someone somewhere will know about your connection to Ellie and when the police do come knocking on your door things will be so much worse.’
‘She always told me that no one knew about our relationship either as lovers or me as her counsellor. Even you didn’t know.’
‘Yes, that’s true. Though I’m sure there were other dalliances you had that I didn’t know about either. And you said she’d had quite a few intense relationships, so there’s no guarantee that someone doesn’t know about you and tells the police. She might also have told her parents. Look John the probability that someone knows is not negligible.’
‘I think I’m going to have to take the chance that no one knows about me. The counselling wasn’t done on an official basis and no money changed hands. There are no bank transactions that can be traced, and I only saw her a few times in my room in Edinburgh.’
‘Then why am I here if you’re going to ignore my advice?’
‘You know why you’re here. It’s just to listen without prejudice or bias.’
Lewis laughed at the standard counsellor’s mantra and there followed a welcome pause in the conversation for both men. They looked out the window, each engrossed in his own thoughts. The tension between them had been building and neither was sure how to continue.
‘You know I won’t say anything to the police. I completely believe you when you say you didn’t kill her. But maybe you could tell me what happened that night so if you do go to the police you can get your side of the story correct and they can’t catch you out with any details that don’t match up.’
Serafini nodded, he recognised the counselling practice of keeping a client on track. He played along nonetheless telling Lewis of the phone call out of the blue from Ellie, the offer to have sex in a snow-hole in the mountains of Scotland and their trek up to Coire Leis where they dug out the shelter. He spared no details regarding their sexual romp culminating in the consumption of two large glasses of a twelve-year-old Highland Park.
‘Christ it must have been freezing! Don’t know if I could perform under these conditions?’
‘It was so different and exciting the only problem was of a premature nature,’ Serafini laughed. ‘She was quite particular that her needs in that department were met.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘She then told me to go since she wanted to do some solo climbing and wanted to spend the night alone. I protested, but she insisted and got angry when I said we should walk back together to the car. She said she’d hitch back to Fort William later in the morning so in the end I had to give in. I walked back to my car and drove to Perth where I managed to get a room in a hotel.’
‘Whoa there,’ Lewis shouted making his friend jump. ‘She didn’t have her own car to get back?’
‘No.’
‘Did she have climbing gear, ropes and stuff? Did she have food with her?’
‘I don’t think so. I had a flask of tea and a few sandwiches. It didn’t look like she had much. She took some stuff out of her rucksack and I didn’t see food or a stove.’
‘What about the climbing gear?’
‘There was an ice axe which might have been the one...’ his voice trailed off momentarily. ‘If there were ropes or crampons, I couldn’t see them.’
‘Then you must realise what that means!’ Lewis exclaimed, attracting attention from the others in the cafe.
‘What?’ Serafini replied, making calming motions with his hands, concerned that people might overhear their conversation.
‘She was expecting someone else.’
---oOo---
The funeral was held in Edinburgh, a simple service at Warriston Crematorium followed by refreshments at a local hotel. It was well attended; Tosh recognising faces he and McIntyre had interviewed in connection with the murder.
Her parents clung to each other for support while Annabel read a short eulogy describing her friend as a wonderful and caring person who totally embraced life whilst rising to the challenges it had brought her. Tosh knew she was referring to her bipolar disorder. A colleague who had formerly been homeless spoke of the chance she had given him to get off the streets and into work. Thanks to Ellie Saunders, he now had a home and a family.
As they filed out after the service Veronica Saunders approached Tosh to shake his hand, thanking him for attending. She then asked if he would come for the food that was laid on. Tosh hesitated; it was sometimes difficult at the funeral of a murder victim to balance the need for information from those present with respect for the occasion.
‘Thank you but I am not sure you would want a police officer asking questions at this time.’
‘Inspector, I have said goodbye to my daughter today and while some of the grief has lifted I know there will be much more to come. Hearing how much her friends cared about Ellie has helped,’ she paused. ‘Though I have spoken to you and your sergeant only briefly, I feel you are both good men.’
‘Thank you,’ Tosh acknowledged with a lump in his throat. ‘In that case I will come, and I promise to be discreet.’
‘I know there are questions you will want to ask Alan and I, and we want to answer them before we return to Gloucester.’
The walk to the hotel took only a few minutes; Joe Flint suddenly drew alongside Tosh who noticed his face was lined with tears.
‘Any news inspector or are you not at liberty to divulge information?’ he asked cheekily although his voice was breaking.
‘It’s a work in progress,’ Tosh replied, deciding to humour him. ‘You remembered anything else about Ellie you want to tell me?’
‘No, just got memories of a lovely woman who made my life so much richer,’ Flint croaked, prompting Tosh to put an arm on his shoulder as they entered the hotel.
They were directed to a room where a buffet was laid out. Tosh watched the people milling around, catching up with acquaintances only ever seen at weddings or funerals. There were smiles now, even some gentle laughter as the pain and angst receded. Time might have appeared to stop momentarily during the service to remember Ellie Saunders, but
life was already moving on. For some their emotions would still be raw but there was no escaping life’s relentless grind and thoughts would eventually return to work, shopping, children, partners and lovers.
Tosh grabbed some food and took his plate into the foyer of the hotel so his presence would not remind the mourners that he was a policeman and that Ellie Saunders had been murdered. He could speak to her parents when the people had gone.
After about ten minutes Ellie’s friend Annabel Jackson appeared with two cups of tea and sat down next to him.
‘I’m Annabel and since it’s well known that all police officers drink tea, I’ve brought you some,’ she said, handing him a cup. ‘I’ve made a guess of milk but no sugar.’
‘Spot on and thank you Annabel.’
‘Lots of her friends came. Ellie would have appreciated that.’
‘You were her best friend.’
‘Have you spoken to Euan yet? He loved Ellie.’
‘He’s in Seoul, back in a couple of days.’
A couple of women appeared clutching cigarette packets, clearly en-route for a smoke. Annabel rose and spoke to them for a few seconds before sitting back down.
‘It was the only time I fell out with Ellie. And it was a big fall out. I went out with Euan for a couple of months when they split up one time. But he talked about her most of the time we were together.’
Tosh nodded but said nothing. She clearly wanted to talk about Ellie, and he was keen not to interrupt her flow of thought.
‘It was a mistake. I fell in love with him, but he didn’t fall in love with me. How could he when he loved Ellie? It was months before Ellie spoke to me again even when she and Euan were back together yet again.’
‘Relationships are always full of surprises and not necessarily the nice type.’
Annabel threw him a look, trying to gauge the meaning of his statement.
‘You need to speak to Euan. He knows Ellie better than anyone, better than me or any of her other friends, better than her parents.’
‘Do you think he could have killed her?’
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