Ice Cold Blood

by David W. Millar

  The question threw Annabel, making her sit up in her seat. ‘What, Euan kill Ellie! He loved her to distraction.’

  ‘People do strange things when they’re in love. I’ve seen it before. Believe me crimes of passion happen even in inner-city Glasgow.’

  Annabel was quiet for a minute, digesting what Tosh had said.

  ‘Euan was a very measured and gentle man, at least that’s the person I saw when we were together. It would be something totally out of character for him to do that.’

  ‘Did they quarrel much, him and Ellie?’

  ‘He tried to please her. Ellie, although she always denied it, suffered from depression and often nothing he did was right while other times he was the most wonderful man ever. It was a rollercoaster for him.’

  It made him think of his past relationship with Alison. He had tried to please her too, unexpected gifts or a surprise weekend away when they were both off duty. She liked socialising, going to clubs or parties. He preferred quiet pubs and the company of a few close friends. She had accused him of being too serious. Maybe in the end all they had in common was their jobs.

  ‘You don’t sound bitter.’

  ‘I’ve found someone now who loves me so I’m the lucky one and thanks to Euan I have a beautiful daughter.’

  ‘What!’ Tosh exclaimed spraying tea in all directions. ‘You had a child with Euan Hunter?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Didn’t DS McIntyre interview you?’

  ‘He didn’t ask me about my daughter,’ she replied mischievously. ‘I assumed he knew.’

  Tosh shook his head wearily, interviews with friends of the deceased could be emotionally charged and you had to be delicate, but not finding that out was disappointing.

  ‘It’s not a secret and everybody knows, well, apart from you, it would seem.’

  ‘Thanks for your time and the information.’

  ‘I hope you find whoever did this to Ellie,’ she declared rising from her seat.

  As she walked away Tosh saw Veronica Saunders emerge from the buffet room. She hugged Annabel before making her way to where he was seated. Tosh saw the tears in her eyes making him wonder if this was an appropriate time for them to be talking about the murder of her daughter.

  ‘Chief Inspector, thank you for being discreet but I think it is time for you to ask me the questions that you need.’

  ‘How’s your husband?’

  ‘Grief-stricken, like me. Ellie shared his passion for invention and engineering. They could idle away time in his workshop for hours.’

  ‘I believe you are an artist like your daughter?’

  ‘I paint as did Ellie and sometimes we would merge our styles on the same canvas. That was fun, but mother-daughter relationships can be fraught. I saw the side of Ellie that Alan seldom saw. Ellie was at least mildly bipolar although it became more severe. She rarely took the medicine needed to control her moods, instead trying to rely on herbal remedies.’

  Tosh could see how tired she was. Despite her earlier declaration that the grief had lifted he knew continuing the conversation would be painful for her.

  ‘If you’re here tomorrow perhaps I could meet you and your husband for a coffee?’

  She looked into his eyes, nodding in appreciation before rising to her feet.

  ‘We’re staying in this hotel so if we meet here at ten that would be good for us.’

  ‘That’s fine for me.’

  She smiled as they shook hands. ‘I was right, you are a good man.’

  Chapter 13

  Dear Euan

  Well guess who was a big hit with my mum and dad?? They thought you were wonderful: well-dressed, well-mannered and apparently handsome enough for their daughter! Although dad considers anything other than mechanical engineering to be inferior, he was impressed with your knowledge and really enjoyed discussing things with you. He has a habit of interrogating people, especially engineers, to find out their views on how the world should be and how engineers can improve it. In our father-daughter discussions we clash on a number of issues particularly on conservation where he wants more bridges, more roads, more planes and inevitably more people! I want to stop clogging up the world and give nature a chance to recover. I told him plastic was the worst ever invention for the environment since it takes hundreds of years to degrade. He just laughs and points to all the man-made fibres in my climbing gear and to try and go back to climbing with rope made out of hemp!

  But I am digressing. (Yet again!) I’m sure my mother thinks you are the perfect partner for me, meaning you’re sensible, calm, level-headed and rational. (She didn’t say boring, honest!) I know you two were probably deep in discussion when I was in Gloucester, but I won’t press you for details. She’s a good mum and a great cook. The meal was vegetarian in my honour - and delicious too! But she is often too caring and too concerned about me to the point of being stifling. Mum’s always asking about my moods, am I taking the prescribed medication, plant extracts are not clinically proven, why don’t I go to the clinic as the doctor requested - that sort of thing. Anyway enough of that, I do love her to bits.

  The fact you’re a climber has also gone down well. My mum and dad both did rock and ice climbing in their youth. They love the outdoors and still go hill-walking. It means they have something in common to do as my dad can shut himself away in his shed all day while mum gets on with her painting. It’s thanks to them that I took up climbing.

  My brother Eamon is keen to meet you. It’s maybe another attempt at an olive branch since we have hated each other since childhood. Apparently, things are going well with Lysette, his French girlfriend. They’ve both been over to France recently and Eamon’s met her family. I think my mum’s hopeful for grandchildren! Anyway, Eamon’s apparently moving to Edinburgh to work with the Royal Bank of Scotland and going to buy a house in Morningside, so it should be easy to arrange a meal sometime. For some reason he now wants to play happy families. I call him a greedy capitalist who makes his money by fleecing the poor. But he knows I have bought my flat in Edinburgh (my parents helped with the deposit) and counters by quoting Proudhon that ‘property is theft!’ And since he knows I want to have my own company he always has easy ripostes. When I do own my company, I will be a great boss and make sure my employees are well looked after.

  It was strange to share my childhood room with you. I have never taken a boyfriend home to my parents’ house, so you are the first to have the honour of sex in my bedroom! (They call it a guest bedroom now but it’s always been my room.) I found it all incredibly exciting and struggled to keep from shouting out. When we went down for breakfast my mum had a knowing smile on her face. I once cheekily asked her if she had a lot of sexual partners before dad and she said quite a few but to keep it quiet. (Although I don’t see my dad as the jealous type and I’m sure there were a few women in his bed before he settled down!) So is it like mother like daughter? Like me mum experimented a bit then found a good man, an engineer like you. I wonder if I have now found mine.

  The journey down in the train to Gloucester was lovely, impressive scenery and wonderful company. It is my favourite way to travel especially when you surprised me by getting first class tickets which meant wine, food and endless cups of coffee. You tried to improve my chess and you are a patient teacher though I am a woeful student! I often want to play the game with panache, look for arrangements on the board that are pleasing to the eye and forget the aim is to checkmate your king! Then the next thing I am becoming over aggressive and start to lose my pieces. I know I am never going to beat you just now but that means I have a challenge and maybe in the future your pupil will become the master!!

  We have nothing planned for the next two weeks since you said you will most likely be in Egypt (lucky man) with your work and since you have made all the running with surprise climbs and walks for us both I thought I might take the init
iative this time. If you can keep the weekend after you return free, then watch this space!

  Ellie

  PS Don’t lose your passport!

  It was another letter that seemed to promise so much for their relationship yet still left him wondering about their future together. He could remember the thrill of reading that she ‘might’ have found her man, but there was no mention of love, romance or the joy of being together. The weekend activity she had told him she was planning had felt more of an obligation on her part than an ardent desire to be with him. As usual he had tried to tell himself he was over-analysing.

  Her parents had indeed been genuinely pleased to meet him, and he had been impressed with both of them. They made conversation easily and both had knowledge on a variety of topics. Unlike Ellie they expressed their views with measured caution, willing to listen to alternative opinions. If Alan Saunders cast aspersions, as Ellie had said in the letter, on certain engineering disciplines, it had certainly not come across in their discussions. He was a modest man, only talking about himself or his inventions when Euan had pushed him.

  But it was Veronica Saunders who had talked in some detail about Ellie that held his interest more than patents and inventions. Their house was in the country and several miles from Gloucester. Before dinner Ellie had driven there to see her friend and pick up plant extracts she said she could not get in Edinburgh. Euan had offered to help with the meal, and this was gratefully accepted by her mother, despite Ellie’s ‘joking’ remarks that her mum would give away all her daughter’s secrets.

  ‘How did the two of you meet?’ She asked as soon as her daughter had left.

  He had told her of the blind date set up by mutual friends and how he had gone with her to an art exhibition and a wedding.

  ‘Ah yes Annabel - an interesting girl with an interesting take on modern art. Ellie says her work is selling though I doubt she will ever make a living out of it.’

  ‘Ellie said you paint in a more traditional style and sell your paintings at exhibitions.’

  ‘Ellie and I don’t see eye to eye on many subjects and art is just one of them.’

  He just nodded, scared to probe further in case he discovered things he would prefer not to know.

  ‘Ellie also said that you and Alan are good climbers and that got her into climbing.’

  ‘A good change of tack there Euan,’ she smiled putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘And yes, it’s true we did encourage her to walk and climb thinking it would be good for her mental health.’

  There was no hiding place from these last two words. It wasn’t just him who found her moods a concern.

  ‘Is she on medication?’

  ‘I think she should be but as I’m sure you know Ellie does not have much faith in the medical profession. She’s a wonderful woman, talented, caring and thoughtful.’

  ‘And competitive too,’ he smiled, pleased that her mother had praised Ellie.

  ‘Oh yes she’s that all right.’

  ‘She knows if I’m not trying and letting her win.’

  ‘I don’t know who she takes it from since neither Alan nor I are competitive. Maybe we can blame her brother for sibling rivalry? They fought like cat and dog when they were little and still argue even now when they’re together. Something happened between them that has never been resolved.’

  ‘She’s great fun to be with.’

  Veronica smiled and nodded at him.

  ‘We all experience mood swings and usually they never last for long. You do need to be patient with her.’

  The sound of a car on the drive ending the conversation before he could make any response.

  Euan brought his thoughts back to the present, placing the letter on the table and rubbing his eyes. It was nearly three o’clock and he was emotionally exhausted and needed a break even if sleep was a long way off - the words written by the woman he had loved would besiege his brain demanding interpretation.

  The reference to ‘property is theft’ had at least made him smile. He had always thought it was from Marx, but it was typical of Ellie that she knew the origin of the quote was a French anarchist. Euan was aware she had dabbled in philosophy after leaving university and seemed to have a prodigious memory for dredging up the work of some unknown Greek sage. It was a part of her he had found so engaging often making their discussions vibrant and uplifting. But when her mood was dark Ellie found it difficult to entertain any disagreement. He had learned to read the signs, tried to be light-hearted and not say anything controversial that might spark her anger. But if her mind was black, she would go looking for a fight.

  He was now considering a quick nap on the couch when his mobile rang; he saw the word Eilidh light up on the screen.

  ‘Hi darling. How’s my favourite daughter?’

  ---oOo---

  Joe Flint travelled back to Wales after the funeral. The sadness of the occasion was starting to fade, and he was looking forward to taking a group of climbers to Nepal for a chance at scaling Everest. It would be a first for his company to undertake such an arduous expedition. Flint knew he would not take charge of the climb, his body not able to take the punishing schedule or cope with the problems of severe headaches that altitude sickness might bring. Instead, he had hired a couple of experienced climbers to lead the ascent while he would probably remain at base camp. Despite the excitement of such an iconic expedition his mind still lingered on the woman he had shared so many good times with on mountains around the world.

  There were two women who, along with the men, had paid thousands of pounds for the chance to reach the summit of the world’s highest mountain. He had approached Ellie with a view to her coming along as an unpaid volunteer to help with the organisation of equipment and meals and provide support for the women if necessary. He had also promised her a crack at climbing Everest if she felt up to it. He remembered her being ecstatic about the expedition, organising her business so she could take a month or so off to get some serious training in. They had met up in Edinburgh so he could seek out her views on how they might prepare for such an undertaking. Having contacts through her recruitment agency Ellie had even been able to come up with some sponsorship and free equipment from companies happy to see their products taken to the top of the world.

  Then she had phoned to say she was pulling out and had cancelled her flights. There was no real reason given but her mood had sounded flat and despite protestations on his part she refused to reconsider. He had told her she could still travel to Nepal at the last minute if she changed her mind.

  He had wondered at the time if withdrawing from the expedition was her way of getting back at him for letting her down all those years ago when he hadn’t managed to meet her in Edinburgh. He received an email before she died, saying she had received some devastating news and would not have been able to concentrate on such a difficult climb. She had wished him good luck and good weather for the climb.

  He was now wondering if he should have shared that information with the police?

  Chapter 14

  ‘I’ve got a possible scenario for Ellie Saunders’ murder I want to run by you,’ McIntyre declared, sitting down beside his boss in the hotel in Edinburgh. ‘Are you happy to hear me out?’

  Tosh glanced at his watch, there was about 30 minutes before Alan and Veronica Saunders would arrive to answer questions about their daughter. McIntyre had driven over to help pursue any fresh lines of enquiry in Edinburgh. It was a better use of his time since there was nothing happening in Fort William. Still at breakfast, Tosh motioned for him to take a seat.

  ‘Happy to hear it but maybe you could tell me how you could interview a certain Annabel Jackson and not find out she had a child with Euan Hunter.’

  ‘What, she never mentioned that to me,’ McIntyre replied with a slight edge to his voice.

  ‘You never asked her?’

  ‘I checked
out her alibi for the evening Ellie was killed and asked about Hunter. It’s not something you bring up in a conversation and you’d have thought she’d have mentioned it.’

  ‘Ian, it’s something you find out by asking other people who know her. That way the questions aren’t directed at her. Annabel went out with Euan Hunter and it was no secret she had a daughter to him. I’m disappointed you didn’t find that out.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry boss,’ McIntyre hung his head. ‘I should have found that out, could have been important.’

  ‘Right, let’s hear that theory of yours.’

  ‘Ok, the pathologist’s report said there wasn’t as much blood as he would have expected from that sort of wound and there was no rucksack found or a heavy climbing fleece or jacket you would use in these conditions. I think there’s a possibility she might have been killed elsewhere on the mountain before being taken to the snow-hole.’

  Tosh nodded thoughtfully. It was something he had thought of before, so he was willing to hear McIntyre’s theory.

  ‘Ok, I’m happy to listen but let me play devil’s advocate first. So they have an argument or something further up the mountain after the sex and he loses the head and strikes her with an ice axe. And remember the angle of the blow suggests she was lying on the ground when the axe was driven home. Blood pours from the wound and he carries or drags her to the snow-hole which may or may not have been dug by then. Fresh snow covers their tracks and all the blood that had poured from her head. But why not just bury her body in the snow close to where he had killed her? Then fresh snow would cover the grave and she wouldn’t be found until it melted. And that might take days with so much snow forecast so he’s likely to be well away before the body’s discovered. Why go to all the bother of carting her body to a snow-hole?’

  ‘The pathologist’s report also said there were marks over her skin that might have been made by some form of strapping that had been pulled quite tight around her torso and there were marks on her face. The plastic fibres found on her body suggested they might have come from man-made webbing. It could mean she was strapped to something and towed to the snow-hole just to hide the body. Or it might mean something else.’