The Eulalie Park Mysteries Box Set 1

by Fiona Snyckers

  He had just settled down to watch a lecture on blood-spatter patterns in close-range gunshot injuries when there was a knock at the door.

  Donal paused the lecture so he could watch it later. He couldn’t imagine who would be visiting him at this hour. He looked through the peephole, and his frown disappeared. He opened the door.

  “Catriona.”

  “Are you in a hugging mood?”

  “Not really, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

  His sister gave him a tight hug, angling her pregnant belly away from him.

  “Did we have an arrangement, Catriona? I don’t think I was expecting you.”

  “You weren’t, but you can’t drop a bombshell like that and not expect me to react. I presume you haven’t told Mum and Da yet?”

  Donal winced. “No.”

  “Then let’s keep it that way. What happened, love? How can we fix this?”

  “I don’t think we can.”

  As he made mugs of herbal tea for the two of them, he told his sister what had happened. She listened attentively, knowing that interruptions would only throw him off. When he had finished, she took her time thinking about what he had said.

  “Donal, is this just a case of you wanting to dot your i’s and cross your t’s, or is there something serious going on at the station?”

  “I think it’s serious, Cat. The budget for our local division has been consistently underspent every year, but there is never a surplus that gets carried across to the following year. What is happening to that extra money? I’ve also noticed some line items that don’t sound genuine. I might not be able to read a human face, but I can read a financial statement. I know when the figures don’t add up.

  Catriona accepted a cup of peppermint tea from her brother and lifted her feet onto the couch to rest her ankles. It was good to have this puzzle to take her mind off the miseries of the last weeks of pregnancy. If only Donal’s happiness and future career weren’t at stake, she would almost be enjoying herself.

  He sat at the computer. “Tell me what you think. You’re the expert.”

  “Oh, come on, Donal,” she protested. “You can’t possibly think that your password access would still work. They probably changed it before you were even out the door.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m going to try it anyway. The police station is technophobic. When they gave us usernames and passwords during our computer training, I don’t think they realized they were giving us full access to the back-end of the system. That’s how I found the irregularities in the first place.”

  He dialed up to the internet and entered the address for the website of his local division. Then he entered his username and password.

  “I’m in,” he said. “It worked.”

  Catriona’s mouth hung open. “How can they be so stupid? You’d think that would be the first thing they’d change, especially if they fired you because they’re worried that you were snooping around in their finances.”

  “I’d better hurry while I still have the chance. They could wise up and shut me out at any moment.”

  “Print out anything important you find. Then store it in your safe deposit box at the bank.”

  Donal smiled. It would never have occurred to him to ask his sister to come over for moral support, but now that she had, he was finding her presence unexpectedly soothing. He really wanted her to take a look at those statements. She was an accountant by profession, and a ruthlessly ethical one.

  He went back three financial years, which was when he had first started noticing the discrepancies. When he had the first statement up on the screen, she got up and came over to stand next to him. She swatted his hand away gently, so she could take control of the mouse.

  As she scrolled, a movement caught his eye.

  “What was that?”

  “What was what, my love?”

  “Your stomach. It just rippled.”

  Catriona laughed. “That was the baby. He’s restless this evening.”

  Donal watched in fascination as her belly, which was level with his eyes, rippled and contracted and jerked.

  “May I touch it?”

  “Of course, Donnie. That’s your nephew in there.”

  With great care and gentleness, he placed his hand against her abdomen. For a moment, it seemed as if the baby had decided to go still just when they wanted him to perform, but he quickly started up again.

  Donal felt the undulations with interest.

  “How is it possible for me to love someone who isn’t here yet?” he wondered out loud. “Someone I’ve never met?”

  “I don’t know, Donnie, but we all do. Me, Remus, Mum and Da. We all love the bump. I’m glad you do too. That means the world to me.”

  “I think my skin will recognize him. I already feel as if it does.”

  Catriona knew what he meant. Part of her brother’s syndrome was an aversion to touching people. He had taught himself to shake hands without flinching, but he never sought out physical contact. The only exceptions to this rule were Catriona and their mother. Their father too, to a certain extent. He and Donal had a difficult relationship, but she knew he loved his da.

  One of her dearest wishes was that her brother would one day meet a woman that his skin ‘recognized.’ When he did, that would be it. That would be the woman he would marry.

  “I know you will love your nephew, Donnie, but don’t take it the wrong way when I say that I hope you won’t be present at the baby shower on Sunday. I hope you will be back at work where you belong.”

  She leaned forward and focused her attention on the statements again.

  “Okay, I’m starting to see what they’ve done. It’s laughably unsophisticated. The subtotals at the end of each column don’t match the figures in the column. All it takes is for someone to do the math and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. There’s money unaccounted for. We’re talking thousands of pounds.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Print this page here … and this one … and this one too.”

  She directed him to print out the evidence page by page.

  “I see what you mean by some line items being wrong. Like this one here.” She pointed at the screen. “Flowers for the mayor’s wife. I thought the mayor didn’t have a wife.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  Catriona shook her head. “Clumsy.”

  As they printed, the computer pinged with an incoming email. Donal saw that it was from Sergeant Shortridge and opened it quickly.

  Dear Trainee Constable Macgregor,

  There will be a public demonstration by the Neo-Nazi group Scotland First in the ethnically diverse neighborhood near Leith. You are temporarily reinstated to help with crowd control. Be at the station tomorrow morning at nine sharp.

  Kind regards,

  Tina Shortridge (Sergeant)

  Chapter 4

  Eulalie

  “I wish he had given us the name of at least one other girl who was attacked,” said Eulalie as they left the campus security office.

  “Didn’t you see me shaking my head?” asked Fleur.

  “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I was trying to tell you that we didn’t need him to give us a name because I already know one. The second girl who was attacked is a sophomore in our dorm. Her room is on the third floor.”

  “What’s she called?”

  “It’s something like Britney. Brittany? No, wait. Whitney. That’s it. Whitney something or other. I don’t know her surname, but you can get it from the list in the common-room.”

  “Thanks, Fleur. Do you think she’ll talk to me about what happened to her?”

  “She was telling everyone who would listen about it at lunch the other day. I’m sure she’ll tell you too. Why do you want to speak to her? Do you want to compare notes?”

  “Something like that.”

  They got back to their residence to find that that tea was being served on the lawns. It was a
quaint and old-fashioned practice that probably dated back to colonial days.

  Eulalie was more of a coffee drinker, but she helped herself to a cup of tea and asked a group of girls if they had seen Whitney.

  “I think she’s up in her room,” said one. “She doesn’t normally come down for tea.”

  Eulalie thanked her and went through to the common-room to consult the list of residents. There was only one Whitney on the list. Her name was Whitney Jackman and she stayed in room 316.

  Eulalie took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. This was her last free day before classes started tomorrow. It was her chance to get something done.

  The door to room 316 was tightly closed, but she could hear music playing inside. She knocked twice and arranged her face into a non-threatening expression.

  “Yes?”

  The girl who opened the door looked exhausted. She was wearing yoga pants and a tank top. She had cuts on her arms that appeared to be healing well. One was still covered with a light bandage.

  “Hi, are you Whitney?”

  “Yes, I am. And you are?”

  “My name is Eulalie. I’m a freshman on the second floor. Last night, my friend and I were attacked by a guy with a knife. We managed to get away from him before he could hurt us. I need to talk to someone about it. One of the girls downstairs suggested you.”

  Whitney’s expression thawed.

  “Of course, come in. Would you like a hot chocolate or something?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve just had tea.”

  “Are you okay? How did you manage to get away from him?”

  “It was two in the morning. My friend and I were walking back from Obz Café. We were already nervous because we had been warned about this guy. I saw something in the bushes – like a shadow. We started to run towards campus. It was one of those situations where you don’t really think that there’s anything there, but you run anyway because you’re scared. We heard something on the path behind us and we looked back. A guy with a big knife was chasing us. He was dressed in black from head to toe and his face was covered. We were close enough to the guardhouse that we managed to get away, but I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened.”

  “I know, I can’t stop thinking about it either.” Whitney traced one of the cuts on her upper arm with her forefinger. “I’m having counselling, but I’m not sure how much it’s helping. My parents wanted to take me home with them when they left, but I’m worried that if I leave now, I might never come back. I feel like I have to get back on the horse, you know?”

  Eulalie nodded. “I don’t think any of us will feel safe until he’s been caught. And maybe not even then. I’m still shaking inside, and he didn’t do anything to me except chase me. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you.”

  “I was going for a trail run behind campus. There are some great paths there for running. Some of them will take you up the mountain, but others just meander along the base. I knew that someone had been attacked, but I thought it was just a random, one-off thing. I wasn’t feeling nervous or looking over my shoulder or anything.”

  “What time of day was it?”

  “It was very early. Just after five. It wasn’t properly light yet. I saw a couple of joggers and hikers, but otherwise it was dead quiet. I ran about three miles before I turned back. I had just reached the edge of campus when it happened. He jumped up out of nowhere and grabbed me by the arm. He had a big knife that he held to my throat. He pulled me off the trail and into the bushes. I thought… I thought he was going to rape me.”

  She paused and tried to collect herself. Her voicing was shaking, and her eyes were shining with tears.

  “But he didn’t?”

  “No, he didn’t. He didn’t seem to be interested in that. He pushed me onto the ground and kneeled next to me. He started flicking at my clothes with the point of his knife. By the time he was finished with me, my clothes looked as though they had been through a shredder. He was cutting deeper and deeper. He started nicking my skin, until I was bleeding and crying. He liked that. The deepest cut was here.”

  She pointed to the dressing on her right shoulder.

  “That one needed stitches.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “A few words. He grunted them at me. Come on. Stop that. Shut up. That kind of thing. We didn’t exactly have a conversation.”

  “Can you remember anything about his voice? Or his face?”

  “Now you sound like the police and the campus security officers. It was an educated voice with a South African accent. I couldn’t see his face – he was wearing a balaclava.”

  “Close your eyes,” said Eulalie.

  Whitney looked dubious. “Why?”

  “Just try it. It will help you remember.”

  “Jeez… okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Answer with the first thing that pops into your mind. It doesn’t matter if it’s wrong or right. Was he white or black?”

  “White.”

  “Old or young?”

  “Young.”

  “Which side did he come from?”

  “Uh … I had the campus on my right and the mountain on my left. He came from the left.”

  Her eyes popped open and she looked surprised.

  “You’re right, I remember more than I thought. I don’t know why I’m so sure that he was young and white when I didn’t actually see him. It’s just an impression I got.”

  “I got the same impression,” said Eulalie. “I’m not sure why either. Did someone come along and interrupt him, or did he just stop after a while?”

  “I think he heard something, because his head kind of turned. Then he jumped to his feet and ran off. Those trails attract more hikers and runners as the sun comes up. I keep having dreams about what he would have done to me if he’d had all the time in the world. He hurt the third girl a lot worse than me. I feel so sorry for her.”

  “Do you know her name?”

  “No. I know the first girl is a graduate student in the philosophy department, but I don’t know who the third girl was. I’ve heard she’s still in the hospital and might not be coming back at all. Sometimes I wonder what I’m still doing here.”

  “Would it make you feel better if they caught him?” asked Eulalie.

  Whitney didn’t hesitate. “Yes, it would.”

  “Okay.” Eulalie stood up. “Thanks for talking to me.”

  It wouldn’t take much to find out who the first victim was, she thought as she walked back to her room. The philosophy department was small and wouldn’t have many graduate students. But that wasn’t the point.

  This man could be getting ready to strike again tonight. He would probably be feeling frustrated at having lost Fleur and Eulalie the night before. He would want to go out and hunt as soon as possible.

  She couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to find his lair now.

  Donal

  Trainee Constable Donal Macgregor reported for duty the next morning at his local division police station.

  An elite riot squad was being put together in response to the Scotland First march that was due to start at eleven.

  The neighborhood that the neo-Nazis were planning to march on was near Leith, but less gentrified. It consisted of a narrow road the length of two city blocks. It had become popular with locals and tourists alike because of the ethnically diverse shops and restaurants that lined both sides of the street. Kosher delis rubbed shoulders with Ethiopian restaurants and Italian bakeries. They offered authentic delicacies from all over the world.

  Most of the owners lived in apartments upstairs, which made them even more vulnerable to aggression from the neo-fascists. Their lives and livelihoods were at stake.

  Several attempts had been made to stop the march. The residents and business owners of the little street had drawn up a petition. They had even applied to court for an urgent interdict against the marchers. All these attempts had failed. Scotland’s free spe
ech laws were strong. The organization had insisted that its demonstration would be peaceful, which made it difficult to justify a ban.

  All the police could do was make sure they were well prepared for any trouble.

  Donal chose to interpret the temporary lifting of his suspension as a good sign.

  “They wouldn’t trust me with this job if they really thought I had done something wrong,” he told his sister the night before. Catriona agreed, but with reservations. She suspected that her brother’s superiors were quite capable of using him to fill out the numbers in a riot squad and then put him back on suspension the next day.

  Catriona had been shocked by what she had seen in the financial statements she had examined that night. This was more than just carelessness or a little white-collar skimming. Someone was systematically defrauding the department of thousands of pounds each month. What lengths would that person go to in order to protect themselves from discovery? When she left her brother’s flat that evening, she had been seriously worried.

  The trainee constables of Donal’s year had received anti-riot training, but none of them had put it into practice. There were scenarios that could be simulated in training, but a riot wasn’t one of them. The station had several fully qualified officers with several years’ experience who had never experienced a riot at first hand before.

  Scotland First boasted on its website that several thousand people were planning to join the march. The police were operating on the assumption that this was accurate.

  It was clear from the demeanor of Donal’s fellow trainees that news of his suspension had reached their ears. They avoided his gaze and greeted him stiffly. It was so noticeable that even Donal with his limited ability to read people’s faces picked up on it.

  Constable Burns looked particularly surprised to see him.

  “Are you sure you’re meant to be here, Macgregor? I think there must be a mistake. You’re still on suspension, my lad.”