The cups were hooked on a mug tree by the kettle. A box of teabags was easily identifiable in the cupboard above. The flat was small enough that she could hear the conversation taking place in the lounge.
Lawrence’s tone was soft. “Could you describe what happened on the day Kathy was killed?”
There was a pause, almost as if the young man was composing himself before he finally spoke. “The morning routine was rushed, like it always is when Kathy’s based at Heathrow.”
“Where do you work, sir?”
“At a solicitor’s firm near the Barbican. I’ve been there since I was a trainee. We both take the tube in the morning, so it’s hectic. We just about managed a kiss goodbye.”
“How did Kathy seem that day?”
“Completely normal. She showered and put on her uniform and then the makeup – they have to wear a lot of slap in that job. It’s all about appearances. But Kathy didn’t mind, she liked to dress up.” His voice cracked.
“Did you have any contact with her for the remainder of the day?”
“Yes, we texted a few times during the lunchbreak. I was meant to shop for dinner on my way home, Kathy was telling me what to buy.”
“We will need to look at those messages.”
“Sure, I’m hardly likely to delete them. They’re all I’ve got now.” The young man glanced up as Dani entered with a tray of mugs.
“Help yourself to milk and sugar,” she offered.
Tom reached for one of the mugs, as if on automatic pilot. “Thanks. Tea is all I can stomach right now.”
“When did you realise something was wrong?” Nate pressed.
“I got back with the shopping at around 6pm. I was expecting Kathy by half past at the latest. By 8.30pm I was getting frantic. I couldn’t get any reply to her mobile. I’d called a couple of friends who she might possibly have stopped for a drink with on the way home, but they’d not seen her.” He gingerly sipped the tea. “That’s when you called me, DI Lawrence. You said you’d been expecting an email from Kathy that hadn’t come. I told you she wasn’t back from work yet, so you said you’d check with Lomond Airlines to see when she left. After that, I paced the flat until I got the call to say her body was found.” He stared blankly out of the window. “It’s like your entire life is turned upside down without warning.”
“And you didn’t leave this flat between receiving the call from DI Lawrence and being informed that Kathy was dead?”
He turned his head back to face the DCI. “No, of course not. I thought she could be home at any minute. I wanted to be here when she turned the key in the lock.” Tears had now escaped onto his cheeks.
“Take a few moments, Mr Birch. Drink your tea.”
He obediently took a couple more sips.
“Did Kathy enjoy working for Lomond?”
Tom blinked rapidly, seeming surprised by the question. “She loved the travel, and the passengers, most of the time. But Kathy did complain a bit about her work colleagues. I don’t think she liked the boss much, either; thought he was a bit of a spiv. He was always trying to cut costs and bypass the unions. I said that was just how it was in that industry.”
“Did she mention any colleague in particular she disliked? Someone she’d argued with, perhaps?”
He considered this. “Kathy really didn’t warm to her new supervisor – the lady who came from BA. She said she was ‘too big for her boots’, or something like that.” He shook his head sadly. “But you need to understand, that was just what Kathy was like. She enjoyed complaining about people, but it was harmless – she had a heart of gold, really.” The tears were falling once more.
Dani spied a box of tissues on a side table and offered him one. “So, you wouldn’t say Kathy had any enemies?”
Tom let out a grunt of frustration. “Why would she? Kathy was a normal young woman. We met in a bar when she was out with a group of mates and so was I. My girlfriend sometimes bitched about her work colleagues in the privacy of our own home. You find me anyone who hasn’t been guilty of that?”
Nate nodded, the man had a point. “Thank you, Tom. We’ll leave you in peace now. If I could take your mobile phone for the time being, I’d be most grateful. I promise it will be returned to you.”
He got to his feet and reached for the phone in his back pocket. “Please find the person who did this, Inspector.” His gaze was imploring.
Nate cleared his throat. “I promise I’ll do everything I can.”
*
They walked back to the car in silence. Dani knew her companion was deep in thought. When they were on the road back to the station in Hammersmith, Nate finally spoke. “When I had the phone conversation with Birch at 8.30pm, he was at home in Kilburn, but there is a chance he could have killed Kathy in the toilets at Heathrow and made it home by that time, especially if she was dead by 6pm, which is the coroner’s earliest prediction.”
Dani sighed. “We would have to get a DC to make the journey, to see if there was time, but I expect it’s physically possible. What I’m not convinced about, is why Tom would want to kill his girlfriend. He clearly loved her. And how would he get into a security-controlled section of the airport?”
“Yep, I agree. We’ll need to find out when he left work that afternoon. Maybe check his debit card to see where he did the shopping for dinner, get a time from the till-roll. Then we can rule him out as a suspect.”
“Good. Because I’m feeling increasingly certain this was an inside job.”
“At Lomond Airlines?”
“Yes. Tom insisted Kathy was a normal girl; bitching about colleagues like we all do in the comfort of our own homes. But I think Kathy somehow overstepped the mark. She complained about something that someone desperately wanted kept quiet. It was most likely to do with Autumn Carlisle.”
Nate kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, now mercifully clear of traffic. “Kathy had stumbled upon an incriminating piece of information and had a reputation for gossiping. When it was noted she’d started talking to us, this reputation got her killed.”
Dani nodded sadly. She knew the DI was quite right.
Chapter 17
Trudy Gifford eagerly greeted the detectives on their return to the station. Her face was flushed from a surge of adrenaline. “I’ve been on the phone to Amsterdam, Boss. I finally got the go-ahead from the Chief Commissioner over there to question our Dutch witnesses.”
Nate gestured for his DC to take a seat at her workstation where he and Dani pulled up chairs to join her. “Go ahead, Trudy. Fill us in.”
“I spoke with Lucas and Sofie Vos at their flat in the east of the city. We got a Skype connection and I recorded the conversation.”
“This was the couple who were friends of Autumn Carlisle?” Dani leant forward with interest.
Trudy nodded. “They didn’t know of Autumn’s death until the local police got in touch with them, asking for permission for us to question them. The case hadn’t reached the news over there.”
“If they weren’t next of kin, there’s no reason why they should have been notified,” Nate added, without a hint of defensiveness.
“No, but the pair were very shocked and upset, I could see that. They met Autumn about seven years ago, when she bought a piece of artwork from them. They went out to lunch to celebrate the sale and remained firm friends. Lucas and Sofie had dinner with Autumn in the week before she died.”
“During her short-haul trip to Amsterdam?” Dani ran a hand through her hair. “How did Autumn seem to them on that occasion?”
“Sofie said they were worried about her. Autumn had seemed in lower spirits than normal. They put it down to her being single again. Sofie had suggested she try Internet dating, but Autumn had dismissed the idea out of hand, said she was too busy in her new job for a relationship. Lucas interrupted his wife to remind her that Autumn had expressed concern about her mother.”
“Betsy Carlisle?” Dani’s interest was piqued.
“Yes, Lucas said Autumn’s
mum had some long-standing mental-health issues. Mrs Carlisle was prone to bouts of extreme anxiety and insomnia. During their last dinner, Autumn had said she’d always assumed her mother’s condition was something unique to her. But now, she wondered whether it might be hereditary.”
“Mental health issues certainly can run in families,” Nate added, “I wonder why Autumn was only just considering the possibility now?”
Dani crinkled her brow. “Because this was the first time in her life that she’d ever experienced those kinds of symptoms. Her father mentioned it when I spoke with him in Glasgow. Autumn had been having bad dreams in the months leading up to her death. These visions filled her with a sense of dread. Perhaps she thought she was inheriting her mother’s mental-health condition?”
Nate frowned. “This theory lends credence to our original assumption of suicide. Did the couple tell you anything else? Had Autumn fallen out with someone here in London? Was she frightened something bad might happen to her?”
Trudy crossed her arms over her chest. “You can watch the recording in full, Boss. Lucas and Sophie only talk about Autumn’s state of mind. They didn’t get the impression there was anyone significant in the woman’s life outside of work and family. But they got the distinct impression she wasn’t happy.”
Dani leant back in her chair and allowed her gaze to slide up to the tiled ceiling, noticing a couple of brownish stains by the light-fitting. “If she didn’t confide in her closest friends, maybe there was nothing to tell? Perhaps Autumn was simply spiralling into a suicidal depression inherited from her mother?”
Nate shook his head violently. “I know I thought that way at first, but things have changed now. Kathy Brice’s murder spins that theory on its head.”
The certainty in the DI’s tone brought Dani up short. “Okay, let’s accept there’s something deeper going on here. I still think we need to find out more about Betsy Carlisle’s condition. She kept that very quiet when she first approached my friend, Professor Morgan.”
“I’m not surprised,” Nate scoffed. “Autumn’s parents were trying to persuade your mate that their daughter’s death wasn’t due to suicide, despite all the physical evidence at the time, suggesting this was the case. They were hardly going to openly supply the information that her mother suffered from a serious mental health condition that could well be hereditary.”
“I suppose not. I’ll need to make a few calls to Scotland.” Dani was lost in her thoughts.
“You can use my office for a bit of privacy,” Nate added.
Trudy was tapping information into her laptop. “There’s something else, too.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Autumn’s ex-boyfriend, Noel Colbert, informed me of an incident from her past. He said there would be a police record of it.” She finished tapping and slid the device round so the screen faced her colleagues.
Dani scanned the text, as Trudy provided a précis. “In the Summer of 2011, when Autumn was a young stewardess, straight out of college, she was a member of the flight crew on a BA passenger jet to Sharm El Sheikh in Egypt. A lone male passenger was on the flight. His name was Austin Johnson, 28 years old at the time. According to a statement Autumn made to police on her return to England, Johnson paid her a great deal of attention during the flight. He was very talkative and ordered a lot of drinks, a number of his comments were suggestive and inappropriate. When they arrived in Egypt, Autumn and the rest of the crew were staying at a hotel near the airport. Ms Carlisle claimed that Johnson must have followed her off the flight and found out where she was staying.”
“A stalker?” Nate added.
“Seems like it. Then, on her second night in Egypt, Autumn reported that a man, who she identified as Austin Johnson, followed her during an evening walk from her hotel to an area of bars and restaurants where she was planning to eat an evening meal. He accosted her on a quiet street, pushing her into undergrowth nearby and sexually assaulting her.”
Dani read the details of the attack. “Autumn was groped and man-handled, it seems Johnson was attempting a rape, but she managed to scream and attract the attention of passers-by. Johnson ran off.”
Trudy continued. “Autumn claimed she was so shocked by the incident, she didn’t report it until she returned to the UK. She crewed a return flight the next day, trying to force the attack from her mind.”
“What happened to Johnson?” Nate’s forehead was furrowed with concern.
“He denied the charges, claimed he was in a resort in Sharm El Sheikh when the attack occurred. A couple of waitresses backed-up his story, said they’d served him dinner that night. The police had to drop the charge of attempted rape. But there were plenty of witnesses willing to make statements about Johnson’s harassing behaviour on the flight. So, he was cautioned for being drunk and disorderly and banned from travelling on BA planes for two years.”
Dani shook her head. “It doesn’t seem like much of a punishment.”
Nate shrugged. “It sounds like there wasn’t enough evidence for the UK police to take the assault charge further. It must have shaken Autumn up badly though, she was very young when it happened.”
Dani nodded her agreement. “Is it not odd for a young, single man to take a package holiday on his own?”
Trudy grimaced. “I’d say so, but there’s no law against it.”
“No, there isn’t, but I’d certainly like to know what this Austin Johnson fellow is up to now,” Nate added in a steely tone.
“I’ll get onto it straightaway, Boss,” Trudy replied, turning her laptop back round the right way and determinedly punching the keys.
Chapter 18
The afternoon sun was hot as Rhodri approached the entrance to the Pitt Street Station. The professor wondered how warm it must be down in London if it was so sultry here in Glasgow. He imagined Dani probably wasn’t having much of an opportunity to enjoy it, anyway. He felt a pang of guilt at this, knowing her involvement in the London murders were ultimately his responsibility.
A helpful PC at the reception desk led Rhodri to one of the interview rooms on the ground floor. He didn’t usually have to pass through so many formalities when making a visit to the Serious Crime Division.
He sat patiently, a cup of weak tea placed on the worn table in front of him. Finally, the door opened. A man with a slick of dark hair and a neat suit entered the room.
“Good afternoon, Professor Morgan. My name is DI Dermot Muir.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Inspector. DCI Bevan instructed me to get in touch with you.”
He nodded. “Yes, I spoke with her yesterday. She has updated me on the Carlisles’ connection to the case she is investigating in London.”
Rhodri assessed the young man seated before him. “I thought I might be able to liaise with DS Calder? Is he not available today?”
Dermot gave a thin, tolerant smile. “DS Calder is involved in another investigation right now. I’m the acting senior officer in the division. It’s appropriate for you to work with me on this.”
“Oh, of course, I wasn’t suggesting you weren’t of sufficient rank to assist me, it’s just I’m used to working with DCI Bevan, DS Calder and DI Mann. We have an established professional rapport.”
Dermot had to resist making a sarcastic comment. “Well, Alice is on maternity leave and I am her replacement, so I will have to do for now.” He took a breath and flicked on his tablet computer. “So, what can you tell me about Betsy Carlisle?”
Rhodri brought a tatty, bulging file out of his briefcase. “I’ve never been Betsy’s practitioner, you understand. I was only told about her mental health issues a few days ago. I always knew she could be ‘nervy’, but that’s a long way from being a clinical case.”
Dermot nodded, hoping the man with the wayward snowy hair opposite him would eventually get to the point.
“I rang Mike Carlisle yesterday. He agreed to supply me with the notes that various psychiatrists have made on Betsy over the years. I drove to Cumbernauld t
his morning to pick it up.”
Dermot laid his hand on the file. “Will a layman be able to understand the information in here?”
Rhodri nodded enthusiastically. “I spent about an hour scanning through the information before I got here. It’s pretty straightforward stuff. Betsy has undergone courses of CBT and has been on mood stabilising medication for about a decade. Until the death of her daughter she was entirely stable.”
“Cognitive Behavioural Therapy?” Dermot asked tentatively.
“That’s right!” Rhodri beamed, as if praising a star pupil. “You see, it’s perfectly possible for a non-practitioner to follow the notes. The man on the street is much more clued-up on issues of mental health than they would have been a decade ago.”
“In the case of Betsy Carlisle, are we talking about a serious psychological condition? Is she suffering from some kind of psychosis? Might she have had hallucinations, or suicidal thoughts?”
Rhodri considered this carefully. “I’d need more time to analysis these notes fully, but I’d say her case displays fairly typical evidence of a moderate nervous condition, at times exacerbated by stress. There is no suggestion here of psychosis. I certainly never detected such symptoms in Autumn.”
“But you’d not seen as much of your friends’ daughter in recent years?”
Rhodri sighed. “No, that is correct.”
Dermot nodded with resolution. “I’ll get a copy made of the file and bike it over to you. Then we can both read through it and see what we think?”
Rhodri narrowed his bright blue eyes. “I thought I knew Betsy and Mike well. We’d been friends for years. But when we last met, they mentioned some aspects of their life I’d never known about.”
“Such as?” Dermot enquired.
“Well, Betsy’s illness for a start. You’d have thought they’d have shared it with me earlier – I am a highly regarded practitioner in the field after all.”
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