by Zach Abrams
“Will you come in?”
“I'd love to but I must get back. I'll catch up with you later.”
“Thank you so much for coming, it gave me strength.” Sandra threw her arms around Alex's neck and hugged closely, rubbing her cheek against his and nuzzling his ear.
“Alex enjoyed feeling the warmth of her body close to him. He lingered in the embrace for a few seconds then affectionately pinched her buttock as he moved back. “Just hold the mood until tonight. How's about I come over after work with a nice bottle of wine to christen the flat?”
“Sounds good to me, I'm not much of a cook, but I'll put something together so we can eat in.”
“I can bring dessert as well.”
“I'm relying on it,” Sandra replied lewdly in a husky voice.
Alex shook his head as he skipped down to the car and jumped in. The suggestion of food made him realise he hadn't eaten anything yet and he foresaw a long afternoon's work stretching ahead. Sandra had never cooked for him before and he wasn't too sure what to expect. Maybe she was at gourmet level and kept it a secret and she had just been modest. On the other hand, he'd never before heard her talk about food. She may have been telling the truth and instant `Pot Noodle' with toast would have been a challenge. He decided not to take too big a chance and he called ahead to Phil.
“Are you ready? I'm on my way back and it should take only ten or fifteen minutes. If you can, will you pick me up a sandwich?”
“No problem, Boss. Just tell me your order. I could go to the new bagel place round the corner. Oh, and something new. Anne Dixon called and suggested we'd want to speak to her and Connors, they have the ME's results from the PM and other tests they've done and thought we'd want to know right away.”
“Ask Dixon if she and Connors can see us now. I'll be there in a few minutes then we can head over to see Stanley Burns. If you could get me a tuna melt, a Danish and a packet of cheese and onion crisps, I'll settle with you when I get back.”
Alex clicked off and didn't pay too much heed to the speed limit as he raced back to his office.
On arrival, his guests had arrived for his meeting, his food was sitting on a plate and next to it was Styrofoam cup half-filled with steaming coffee.
He shook hands with Connor and Dixon. “Sorry about the rush but I'm on my way out to another interview. Have you offered our guests coffees, Phil?”
“He has, but we're not desperate enough to drink stuff from that machine,” Connors replied. “After all, who'd be left to carry out the forensic tests on our remains?”
“Fair point,” Alex replied. “Please excuse me eating but I haven't much time.” He lifted a half bagel and bit through the squelchy cheese and tuna topping.
“No problem for us, although you might not feel like eating while we're discussing stomach contents,” Connor continued with a flicker of a smile. “I'll let Anne give you the details as she was managing the department while I was away.”
“Okay,” Anne started, “to begin with we've tied down time of death to between midnight and one a.m. This is confirmed by body temperature together with digestion of stomach contents based on the time we understand he had his dinner. He had expensive taste. Unless we're mistaken, he started with smoked salmon then went on to have lobster thermidor and there was some fairly undigested clootie dumpling, at least that's what I've been told it's called. It was washed down with an ample amount of white wine, a Sancerre might have gone nicely, I'd speculate.”
“All very enthralling but I don't think it takes us any further forward,” Alex replied.
“No, but you may be happier with this. Mathewson was involved in sexual activity only a short while before his death.”
Alex looked up at her, clearly now a lot more interested. “Can you tell us any more?”
“Yes, we detected a number of pubic hairs. His partner was female, white, blonde and likely to have been between the ages of eighteen and sixty.”
“Can you be any more specific?”
“Would it help if I told you she was twenty-two, her hair was bleached platinum, green eyes, five foot six in height with a mole two inches above her left nipple and that she has a bunion on her right big toe.”
Alex looked at her in amazement. “You have to be joking?”
“Yes, I have to be joking,” Anne replied. “Forensics has advanced considerably over the last few years but we're not magicians. We can test pubic hairs and tell sex, race, true hair colour and stage of development – that is child, adult or elderly but not much more, unless you have the fictional equipment you see on CSI.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Well yes, he'd been wearing a condom and the lubricant was consistent with the packets we found in his desk.”
“So he practiced safe sex. That's about the only thing we've ascertained in his favour. What about the condom?”
“Well that's the strange thing. We didn't find one.”
“That's a bit odd. Where did you look?”
“Everywhere that seemed realistic. It wasn't anywhere near the body. It wasn't left in any bins or cupboards. We checked the waste containers as well and no luck. We don't think it could have been flushed down the loo. It's not impossible but it's unlikely, we checked the plumbing and no sign of it.”
“Well, maybe he had sex before coming back to the distillery?”
“That's possible. If it did happen on site then it raises the questions who with and how did they get in? Did he bring them in? Could they have killed him and then exited the same way they entered?
“On the other hand, did he have sex before coming on site? If so, he would have had to have taken the condom with him, which is quite possible because he may have been hoping to hitch up with Holbein. If that didn't happen, he wouldn't have had much time, which raises the questions of where, when and who with? Or could the person have followed him then killed him? In any event, the partner has to be a suspect. If the sex was on site, is it likely the partner would have removed the condom and taken it away? And if so, why? Unless they carried out the killing and wanted to remove evidence that they'd been there?”
“So it's a major priority to discover who he slept with?” Alex asked.
“Or didn't `sleep' with to be more to the point,” Phil added.
Ignoring the quip, Alex continued, “So that's given us something to go on. Is there anything else?”
“The usual routine tests and checks,” Anne replied. “It'll all be in the formal report and you'll get that tomorrow. We thought you needed the information about the sex and the condom sooner rather than later.”
“You're right, thank you very much. I can see why my good friend Connor, here, was so quick to hire you.”
“Yeah, but I'm not so sure now it was a good decision. She said she wanted the job to learn from me. She's only been here for a few weeks and already she's close to overtaking me. I think she's going to be after my job next,” Connor interjected.
“You've got no worries. It'll be a long time before that happens,” Anne replied.
Chapter 14
Phil called ahead to let Stanley Burns know they were on their way and then Alex and Phil made for his car. He'd left it parked on a yellow lined space on Pitt Street outside Glasgow High School, thinking he'd only be a couple of minutes. In any event, their session had lasted a bit longer, and as Alex approached his vehicle he could see a green coloured piece of paper in a plastic wrapper pinned under his windscreen wiper.
“Bastard,” he uttered, condemning his own laziness and stupidity in not taking time to park properly, rather than addressing anyone in particular. Phil looked over, a little bit concerned thinking he had done something to invoke Alex's wrath and fearful he may, for some reason, be made to take the brunt of his anger.
“It's okay,” Alex uttered. “My own stupid fault.” He couldn't help wondering if it was the same warden he had encountered the previous day and then again this morning, who'd finally been able to exact his revenge. He was annoyed to have t
o write off the sixty pounds fine for the sake of saving a few minutes. Even though he had been on police business, he knew he couldn't recharge the cost as the police could not be seen to condone his misdemeanour, even if it was incurred for their benefit. Alex lifted the plastic envelope and stuffed it in his pocket.
A short while later they arrived at Stanley's house in Newton Mearns. It was similar in age, size and shape to Alex's family home in Clarkston, only three or four miles away.
They made their way up the driveway and Alex pressed the bell. The door was answered by an Adonis-like creature. Only slightly smaller than Alex, he was broad shouldered with deeply bronzed skin. He had tightly-cropped, spiky blonde hair and a face which wouldn't have been out of place in an advert for razor blades or gents' toiletries. His muscles rippled as he moved and his tight fitting vest did nothing to hide his six pack physique.
“We've an appointment to see Stanley Burns,” Alex offered, not certain who he was speaking to.
“Come in and grab a seat in there,” came the reply, while pointing to an open door to their right.
Alex and Phil followed the direction then looked around at the minimalist and fastidiously clean room. The walls were even and cream coloured, complimenting the beech laminate flooring and the furniture was a simple red coloured, three-piece suite surrounding a low, beech coffee table. The only decoration was a large crystal vase sitting on the table, overflowing with dozens of daffodils which were all in full bloom. The heating was set at high and the room felt airless and claustrophobic.
They heard a voice from outside, “Stanley love, that's your guests arrived,” then in an undertone loud enough for them to clearly hear, he added, “and they both look very dishy, even if they're not in uniform, especially the tall one.” Returning back to a normal volume he continued, “Do you want me to hang around in case I'm needed, or should I head off for the gym?”
Alex didn't hear the response but the same voice went on, “Okay then, just so long as you're sure. I'll take the Harley and then you can drive down and join me when you're free.” The door slammed and they heard footsteps outside the window and then the distinctive tone of a motor bike being started and revved before the engine noise faded into the distance.
No sooner had the last echo disappeared than a new figure appeared in the doorway.
“I'm Stanley Burns, I'm so sorry to have kept you, but I was getting changed so I was ready for the gym. I've sent Barry on ahead so we'll be free to talk, but can you tell me how long this will take because I've told him I'll meet him at Parkview as soon as we're finished.” Stanley had the same initial appearance as his brother and the other male members of the Burns family, sharing the same facial shape and pronounced ears. However, that's where the resemblance stopped as his figure was wiry and muscular, no doubt maintained by his regular gym training sessions. He was also very camp and was dressed in loose fitting, turquoise-coloured track suit-shaped clothing. The fabric was shiny but didn't appear to be a cheap synthetic. It had a Chinese look about it with colourful embroidery around the cuffs and neck and it could possibly have been silk. “I have my gym gear underneath so I can change quickly,” he explained. He raised his arm in greeting and his handshake was soft and moist, barely making contact.
Alex and Phil strained to stop themselves staring at his flamboyance as he sleekly glided across the room to approach a chair opposite them.
“Can I get you some fruit juice? I have some freshly squeezed orange if you'd like or there're other choices from a carton. I can't offer you any tea or coffee because I don't keep it in the house. I just can't stand caffeine, I think it's evil.”
“And what do you think of whisky?” Alex enquired.
“I can't speak against it, it provides me with my standard of living, but I never touch it myself, I'm more into gin when I drink spirits.”
“Thanks, but we're okay, besides we don't want to hold you back any more than we have to.” Without waiting for Phil to react, Alex answered for them both.
As he spoke, Alex noticed movement near the floor and, as he looked down, he saw a beautiful, Siamese cat strolling arrogantly towards him. It was elegant, slim and stylish with a well muscled body and triangular head. Its colouration was seal point, its eyes almond-shaped and light blue, and it had large wide-based ears positioned more towards the side of its head. Alex was familiar with the expression of dogs frequently looking like their owners; in this case, he thought it could also apply to cats. Maybe, he pondered, it was more a case of pet owners choosing a breed with similar characteristics to themselves.
The cat stopped a few inches away, appraising the visitors encroaching on its territory and then, seeming to grant approval, it sidled first against the couch and then rubbed its side against Alex's leg.
Although fond of animals, Alex had never formed any close attachments to felines. He felt cats were too independent and were never truly domesticated. Dismissing having a cat as a pet, Alex felt that it was the cat which fostered its human associates and not the other way around. The human was trained to attend and care for the cat, but any returned show of affection was rare and could never be relied upon. A dog, by contrast, might not be as intelligent but was considerably more likely to be loyal and loving.
Phil lifted a tissue from his pocket and dabbed at his eyes which were watering profusely. “I'm sorry, Mr Burns, but I'm allergic to cats, could you possibly ask it to leave.”
Burns looked at Phil as if he'd just stepped from another planet but then relented and picked up his beloved pet. “Come on, Sheba, I'll take you next door,” he said while stroking its back and placing tiny kisses to the rear of its head.
Alex resumed the conversation, “I take it you'll already have heard about your brother-in-law?”
“Well, sort of. I heard he was found dead in the distillery, but that's as much as I know. Georgina called to tell me.”
“We don't know too much more ourselves, yet. We're still trying to piece together who's who and what might have happened. I'd like you to help us by telling us what you know.”
“I'm happy to give you any help that I can.”
“Well, let's start by asking when you last saw Hector?”
“I'm not sure, it must be over a week now. Yes, that's right, it was at a board meeting last Wednesday.”
“Where was that?”
“It was in the board room, in Benlochy. The meeting lasted until about one in the afternoon, then we had lunch, then I went home.”
“Where did you go for lunch?”
“We didn't go anywhere. It was served in the board room. We bring in outside caterers. They're very good. I can give you their number if you'd like, I can even tell you their menu.”
“Thank you, but I don't think that will be necessary. Have you seen any other members of the family since the meeting?”
Stanley paused for a moment's thought. “No I haven't. Georgina came to a gallery I was exhibiting at, but that was the previous Sunday.”
“So do you keep in close contact?”
“With Georgina? I suppose so. I was the baby of the family. Georgie's six years older and Quentin eight. Georgie always looked out for me.”
“What about your parents?”
“I was very close to my mother but she first took ill when I was still in my teens. She had a chronic heart condition and it eventually killed her about ten years ago.” Stanley's eyes looked sad and watery. “My father, by contrast, was unemotional and uncompromising. It was always his way or no way. Mother protected me when I was young, but after she became ill, it took all her strength to look after herself. Georgie helped a bit.”
“And what about Quentin?”
Stanley's face went stiff. “Quentin and I don't get along.”
“What do you mean?”
“Quentin was always cruel, even worse than father. It started when I was young. I think he knew I was gay even before I did. He teased me mercilessly and he made a fool of me at every opportunity. He belittled me
in front of Mother and Father and Father let him get away with it, he even encouraged him.”
“Does he still bully you?”
“He doesn't get a chance any more. Mostly I stay out of his way, but added to that, he's afraid of Barry. Barry and I have been together for a few years now. When we first met, he was a Tae Kwon Do champion and it scared the shit out of Quentin. He doesn't keep it up now as he injured his knee but Quentin still keeps a distance.”
“Is it because of Quentin that you don't take an active part in the business?”
“It's the main reason, I don't even like being in his company. He still taunts me. I'm an adult but he still has a way of making me feel small and inadequate.”
“But you attend the board meetings?”
“Yes, I'm fairly good at understanding what's going on and I do participate in decisions. I've a right to be there as I'm a shareholder and a trustee for the family trust. What's more, I like to be there because I know it annoys Quentin. He can't stand the fact that his faggot baby brother has a vote that carries the same weight as his.”
“I can see how that might work. How did you get along with Hector?”
“We tolerated each other. I never liked the way he treated Georgie and I told him so on more than one occasion, but other than that he was okay with me. He made sure I received my salary and dividends.”
“Can you tell me where you were on Wednesday night through until Thursday morning?”
“Barry and I went out for a meal and then onto the theatre in Glasgow. After that we went home and stayed in. We got back about eleven o'clock, maybe a little bit later.”
“Where did you go to eat?” Alex enquired, wondering if his path could have crossed Hector and Chuck.
“We went to the Barolo Grill in Mitchell Lane. Why?”
“Did you know Hector was in town? He was dining at the Rogano. It's in Exchange Place; it can't be more than a hundred yards from the Barola.”
“No, I didn't know. Does it make a difference?”
“It might, he was dining with Chuck Holbein.”
“What? Holbein from Hanser? Why?”