by Marion Todd
‘Fill me in please, Jim.’
‘Woman, early thirties we think, found submerged in the bath.’
‘Name?’
‘Alison Reid.’
‘Any evidence of a struggle?’
Jim shook his head. ‘There’s no water splashed around the room. Mind you, we’ve no idea how long she’s been there. It could have dried up.’
‘It’s not just a drunken accident? Falling asleep in the bath.’
‘I don’t think so. You’ll see what I mean…’
Clare stepped carefully into her forensic suit and pulled on a pair of gloves. ‘Who found her?’
‘Next-door neighbour.’ Jim glanced at his notebook. ‘A Mrs Tanya Sullivan. Sara took her back round to her own house. I said you’d probably want to speak to her, yourself.’
Clare nodded at this. Sara, her young PC, could be relied on to soothe even the most frantic of witnesses. She pulled the hood over her head. ‘Any sign of SOCO?’
‘Shouldn’t be too long. I asked for Raymond but with it being a public holiday it’ll be whoever’s on duty.’
‘Have you had a look yourself, Jim?’
He shook his head. ‘Didn’t want to contaminate the site.’
‘I’ll just pop my head round the bathroom door, then,’ Clare said. ‘Have a quick look before SOCO arrive.’
‘Robbie said to take a look at her neck…’
Clare stepped carefully up the hall, her eyes roving round for anything that seemed out of place. But nothing struck her as unusual. The house was a model of order. The bathroom door stood open and she peered in, studying the room with a practised eye. It was simply decorated with a white suite and tiles, a single row of narrow Delft blue ceramic strips providing a contrast. On the floor was a small pile of clothes, presumably what the victim had been wearing before entering the bath. Other than that, the room was immaculate. As she took it all in, Clare wondered idly why the bathroom at Daisy Cottage always seemed so disorganised.
A shower cabinet to the left partly blocked the view of the bath and Clare stepped further into the room to view the victim. Alison Reid lay, partly submerged, her head to the side, facing towards Clare. The skin on her hands was shrivelled and Clare thought she must have been in the water for some time. Overnight at the very least. Her hair, which Clare guessed was shoulder length, now partly obscured her face and her abdomen had risen to the surface, causing the water level to drop, judging by a slight tidemark near the top. Clare took another step towards the body and bent to examine it more closely. She remembered Jim’s words and peered at Alison’s neck. Her hair was in the way but she was sure there were marks on the neck. Had Alison been strangled when she was taking a bath? Clare looked round. The window was closed and, from what she’d seen so far, there was no evidence of an intruder. So what had happened here?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shout from Jim.
‘That’s SOCO arrived.’
She stepped carefully back out of the room, retracing her steps and moved down the hall. Out in the street Jim and the uniformed officer who’d been guarding the door were setting up a cordon with blue and white tape. The SOCO team were unloading equipment from their van and Clare went to greet them. She was relieved to see Raymond Curtice had drawn the short straw and was donning a white forensic suit.
‘Raymond,’ she said, smiling. ‘Sorry to drag you out.’
‘Ach it’s no problem, Clare. I was starting to get cabin fever anyway. So what do we have?’
‘Woman, early thirties, dead in the bath. Possible marks on her neck. No sign of a break-in as far as I can tell but I’ve only had a peep into the bathroom.’
‘Anything particular you want us to focus on?’
Clare considered this. ‘I’m not sure. I’d like to come back in with you, once I’ve spoken to the woman next door. Have a proper look round.’
‘She the one who found her?’
‘Yep. And, if you have even a vague idea of how long she’s been there…’ Clare knew she was chancing her arm. Raymond always told her it wasn’t his job.
He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter how many times I tell you, does it?’
Clare grinned. ‘Thanks, Raymond.’
As she left him to his work she saw a red Golf GTi draw up behind the SOCO’s van. Chris West, her detective sergeant.
He jumped out of the car and ambled up the path, pulling on his jacket. Clare thought his work trousers were a bit tighter than usual. He’d obviously had a good Christmas. He rolled his eyes at Clare. ‘We very nearly made it through the holiday…’
‘And a happy new year to you too,’ Clare said, pulling off her white suit. ‘Come on – we’ve a distraught neighbour to interview.’
‘Oh goodie.’
Chapter 4
A figure standing at the window of the house next door drew back as Clare and Chris began making their way up the garden path. The front door opened as they approached and Sara stood there in her stocking soles.
As she stood back to admit them she said, ‘Mrs Sullivan had new carpets for Christmas so she’d prefer if we took off our shoes.’
Clare glanced at the pristine cream carpet that ran up the hall and she removed her mules, avoiding Chris’s eye. She waited until he had stepped out of his shoes – without bothering to unlace them – and indicated to Sara that she could leave. ‘See if Jim needs any help.’
Sara stepped back into her shoes and escaped, closing the front door behind her. Clare turned and saw a middle-aged woman standing at what she guessed was the sitting room door. She was dressed in a pair of dark blue tracksuit bottoms and a red Christmas jumper depicting Santa in wraparound sunglasses. She was pale and there were mascara smudges below her eyes. She introduced herself as Tanya Sullivan and led them into a square sitting room, also with the new cream carpet. The room was light and airy, with dark blue leather sofas and an artificial Christmas tree in one corner. The walls were covered with photos of what Clare guessed were grandchildren, the same children photographed at every age from just a few months old up to early teens. There was a large television screen, mounted on the wall. Clare glanced at it and thought about her own new TV, a Christmas treat to herself. Too big for the room maybe but it seemed a good idea at the time. She’d considered mounting it on the wall but Geoff had said that was naff. She studied Tanya Sullivan’s TV for a few moments. Was it naff, having it up there? She couldn’t decide.
A half-drunk mug of something sat on a coffee table and Tanya lifted it. ‘I’ll just…’ she began, then she said, ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting a drink. Coffee okay?’
Clare smiled. ‘Only if you’re making it.’
Tanya nodded. ‘I’ll just put the kettle on.’
She returned a few seconds later and indicated one of the sofas. ‘Please, sit down.’ She took a seat opposite them and clutched her hands.
‘Mrs Sullivan…’ Clare began.
‘Tanya’s fine.’
Clare nodded. ‘Tanya – perhaps you could tell us what happened this morning.’
Tanya swallowed and looked from Clare to Chris. Then she seemed to gather her wits. ‘I hadn’t seen Alison, you know. Not for a few days. And we always wished each other a happy new year.’
‘Can you recall when you last saw her?’ Clare asked.
Tanya nodded. ‘Two days before new year. I knocked on her door to offer her some Christmas cake. I always have loads and, with her being on her own…’
‘She lived alone?’
‘Yes. Anyway, she thanked me for the cake, said she’d see me after the new year and that was that.’
‘And today?’ Clare prompted.
‘Well, I noticed her curtains were still drawn. So I thought I ought to check. See everything was all right, you know?’
‘You have a key?’ Clare asked.
Tanya nodded. ‘Just for emergencies.’ She glanced across at Chris. ‘I’d only go in if I thought there was a problem.’
Chris smiled. ‘Of
course.’
‘So, I put my key in the door and called out. Just hello, so she wouldn’t get a fright. But there was no answer so I went up the hall, and then I saw the tree.’
‘The Christmas tree?’ Clare asked.
‘Yes. The sitting room was in darkness, you know? But the tree lights were on. And I knew something was wrong.’
‘What made you think that?’
‘Oh, Alison was always so careful. Always turned the plugs off when she went out. She wouldn’t have gone to bed and left the tree lights on.’
Clare nodded. ‘Where did you go next, Tanya?’
Tanya was warming to her subject now. ‘I looked in the kitchen, just to make sure she wasn’t there – or out in the garden, that sort of thing. Then I went back into the hall and I noticed it felt a bit odd.’
‘In what way?’
‘Sort of damp,’ Tanya said. ‘Like when a pan’s been boiling on the cooker. I thought maybe there was a leak, or something. So I went to the bathroom…’ she broke off.
Clare nudged Chris. ‘Why don’t you go and make us some coffee, Chris.’
He took the hint and rose, heading for the kitchen.
Clare waited until he had left the room then said, ‘Did you enter the bathroom, Tanya?’
The woman nodded. ‘I just peeped in. I thought maybe Alison had run a bath and forgotten it. And then I saw…’
Clare waited.
Tanya hesitated then swallowed again and said, ‘I saw Alison. In the bath. But… she looked odd. I mean I’d never seen her without her clothes on, obviously, but she was… rounder, somehow. Her stomach, I mean. Bigger, you know?’
Clare nodded. ‘And did you notice anything else about the room? Anything out of place?’
Tanya shook her head. ‘No. Only…’
Clare waited.
‘Her clothes – they were on the floor, in a bit of a heap, you know? As if she’d taken them off in a hurry. And her trousers were outside in. And that wasn’t like her. Not Alison.’
Clare leaned forward. ‘Not like her how, Tanya? In what way?’
‘Oh, she was as neat as a new pin. Not a thing out of place. And there was a laundry basket in the bathroom. I don’t think she’d have left a pile of clothes on the floor.’
Clare thought of her dog-walking clothes, currently lying in a heap on her bedroom floor and she wondered if Tanya was making too much of this. If Alison had been drunk and decided to take a bath… maybe it was a drunken accident after all.
‘And that’s another thing,’ Tanya was saying.
‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘Towel. I said she didn’t have one. I think she kept her towels in the cupboard opposite but it’s too far to reach from the bath. She’d have left one handy, don’t you think? But there was only a small hand towel on a rail. You don’t take a bath without leaving a towel close by, Inspector, do you?’
You might if you’re drunk, Clare thought but didn’t say. She smiled. ‘Thanks, Tanya. That’s all really helpful. Just a few more questions, if you’re up to it.’
The sitting room door opened and Chris appeared, bearing a tray with mugs. ‘I’ve brought the cake you left out,’ he said hopefully.
Tanya beamed. ‘Everyone likes my Christmas cake, Sergeant. I made it in October, you know, and I’ve been feeding it brandy ever since.’
‘It sounds amazing,’ Chris said, setting down the tray. Tanya picked up a knife he’d brought and began cutting pieces of cake.
Clare rolled her eyes at him but he spread his hands in response. When the coffee and cake was handed out she went on. ‘How long have you known Alison?’
Tanya considered. ‘Five years, I’d say, Inspector. Since she moved here. After her divorce, you know.’
‘She was married?’
Tanya nodded. ‘She and her husband had a big house in the town.’
‘Don’t suppose you know where?’
‘Buchanan Gardens. Lovely big house it is. Near that student place – the apartments.’
‘David Russell Apartments?’ Clare said.
‘That’s the one. The ex-husband still lives there, I think.’
‘Do you happen to know the number?’
Tanya shook her head.
‘Not to worry. We’ll find it.’ Clare took another bite of cake. It was very good. ‘This is delicious,’ she said, earning herself a smile from Tanya. Then she went on. ‘I don’t suppose you know the ex-husband’s name?’
Tanya’s lips tightened. ‘Miles Sharp,’ she said. ‘Sharp by name and sharp by nature, if you ask me. Not that I’ve met him, but from what Alison said…’
‘Were they married long?’
‘I’m not sure, Inspector. But she’s been here about five years. I think she came when she and Miles separated.’
‘Was it an amicable split?’ Clare asked.
‘Depends if you mind your husband carrying on with someone else.’
‘Mr Sharp was having an affair?’
‘He certainly was! With the other partner in his office. Sharp and Lafferty,’ she added. ‘They’re accountants. Office in Hope Street.’
Clare knew the street. ‘So, Mr Sharp – he was a partner?’
‘That’s right. And Alison, well she worked there. That’s how they met. She was a junior accountant and they fell in love. Next thing she knew he’d whisked her off to New York and proposed to her in Central Park. I think they were married a few months later.’
‘But it didn’t last?’
‘If you ask me, Inspector, his kind can’t keep it in their trousers. They were only married a few years when he started sniffing round Cheryl Lafferty.’ Tanya held out the plate of cake and Chris took a second piece. She offered it to Clare who waved it away. ‘Next thing Alison knew, he wants a divorce and Cheryl’s sporting a huge diamond ring.’
Clare sipped her coffee then said, ‘That must have been difficult for Alison.’
‘I’ll say.’ Tanya cradled her mug. ‘Poor Alison moved out of that lovely house and he’d moved that Cheryl in before Alison had got to the end of the street!’
Clare noticed Tanya’s lips tighten again and she wondered if that Cheryl was as black as she was being painted.
‘I think that’s why she changed jobs,’ Tanya went on.
‘Where did she move to?’
‘A smaller office in Market Street. Crossford Financial.’
‘And was she still there?’
Tanya nodded. ‘I think she liked it. Not as fancy as Sharp and Lafferty but friendly. Nice people, she said.’ Tanya lifted the coffee mug to her lips then put it down again. ‘I wonder if she never got over it – Miles, I mean. Do you think that’s why…’
‘Did Alison have anyone else in her life?’ Clare said quickly, before Tanya could speculate any further. ‘Another boyfriend – partner – that sort of thing?’
‘Not that I saw,’ Tanya said. ‘She lived very quietly, poor thing.’
Clare thought it was no wonder Alison kept to herself with a neighbour like Tanya. ‘What about family? Did she have anyone to stay for Christmas?’
‘No. The dad’s dead, you know. And the mother’s in a care home.’ She moved closer to Clare and mouthed ‘Early onset dementia,’ as though this was something to be talked of only in hushed tones.
Clare was growing weary of this gossipy neighbour. ‘Do you know which care home?’
Tanya frowned.
At last, Clare thought. Something she doesn’t know.
‘I think… possibly Pitlethie,’ Tanya said after a short pause. ‘It’s in Leuchars. About quarter of an hour from here. Out past the primary school. A new build. Only been open a few years.’ She nodded as if to confirm this. ‘Yes, Pitlethie.’
Clare noted this down then said, ‘Just one more question, Tanya. Have you seen anyone hanging around the street, recently? Anyone unusual or unfamiliar?’
Tanya’s eyes widened. ‘You think someone did that to her? That it wasn’t suicide?’
> ‘It’s just routine,’ Clare said, keeping her tone light. ‘We always have to ask these things. So… can you recall anything?’
Tanya sat back in her chair and appeared to consider this. Then she said, ‘Nothing comes to mind, Inspector. But I’ll have a think. I mean, if it was murder…’
Clare decided she’d had quite enough of Tanya Sullivan and she rose from the sofa. ‘I’ll leave you my card, Mrs Sullivan. If you do remember anything else…’
‘Oh, I’ll be sure to let you know, Inspector. Don’t worry about that.’ She picked up the cake knife again. ‘I’ll just give you some cake to take away. I know how hard you police officers work.’
Chris’s face lit up and Clare dragged him to the door to retrieve their shoes.
Chapter 5
They walked back down the path, picking their steps as the snow gradually turned to slush.
‘You want to head over to the care home?’ Chris said.
Clare considered this. ‘I’m not sure. If the mother isn’t capable of understanding what’s happened…’
‘Maybe worth speaking to the matron, or whatever they’re called these days.’
Clare nodded. ‘Can you call the home, please? Find out if it’s worth us sending someone over.’
‘Yeah, sure. What about the ex-husband? Want to call in on him?’
Clare frowned. ‘I’m not sure. If it’s five years since they divorced, would he know anything?’
‘If the mother’s not able to tell us anything it might be worth speaking to him.’
‘Fair point. Can you get onto the control room then? See if they can find the number in Buchanan Gardens. Remember he’s a partner in Sharp and Lafferty. Might help track him down.’ She glanced back at Alison’s front door. ‘I just want a quick word with Raymond.’
Clare went through the tedious but necessary process of suiting up again then she stepped back into Alison Reid’s house. Raymond was standing just outside the bathroom door directing the police photographer while his team were waiting to take swabs from around the bath.