‘Welcome back, Kristin!’ Cameron Smith greeted her on the threshold of the house.
Kristin winced at the unexpected voice that brought her out of her reverie.
‘Cameron, you scared me,’ Kristin uttered, tiredly.
‘Sorry, I did not want to scare you,’ said Cameron justifying his intervention.
Kristin gently hugged her husband and in a guilty voice pronounced, ‘No, dear, forgive me. I just thought…’
‘I made breakfast as you like it and decided to meet you. Two free days we will spend together. Do you think maybe after breakfast a little walk along the promenade before leaving for Edinburgh? The weather is so clear, although a bit windy, but we are not afraid,’ said Cameron, cheerfully.
‘Oh Cameron, I’m so hungry, thanks for the care. And music plays and it’s warm at home, I feel in paradise,’ said Kristin and kissed her husband on the lips.
‘Kristin, I’ll make some coffee.’
‘Okay, I will enjoy the aroma of the toast.’
‘Kristin, do you have any plans? For some reason, when I started talking about a walk, it seemed like the idea did not particularly inspire you.’
‘No, my darling. It is impossible to hide anything from you; my eyes cannot lie. Unfortunately, I have an appointment with a woman.’
‘A meeting?’
‘Yes, dear, but not for long, at eleven this morning. I know you don’t like this idea, but I’m meeting a relative of the murdered woman.’
‘Kristin, I don’t like all this. I am afraid for you.’
‘Do not worry, this is only an article and nothing more. I propose to think only about the good, about Carmen tonight.’
‘It’s not easy, but I will try, my dear. Still, I don’t like this idea.’
‘I know…’
Meeting Jennifer Davidson
Kristin was in a state of utter confusion when she saw the suffering and emaciated face of Jennifer Davidson, with its strange smile. Jennifer sat on a wooden bench, lost in thought, and expressed genuine pain and despair in her eyes.
‘Hi, Jennifer! Sorry for being late. I am alone, Martina has urgent business.’ Kristin conveyed her apologies.
‘Hi, Kristin. No need to apologize, I came ahead of time. Thank you for coming.’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine, I’m trying to be fine. I do not want my children to see me cry.’
‘Jennifer, we are all living things.’
‘It is very hard for me to see my parents suffer.’
‘I think right now you should be together. They should not feel alone in their grief.’
‘Thank you, Kristin, for coming,’ said Jennifer Davidson, weeping. ‘She is no more, it is so unbearable to think about it, I do not know how to live without her presence.’
‘Jennifer, I know how hard and unbearable it is, and how you are feeling, but you must be stronger than those who need you and love you. Therefore, if you want to cry and you feel that there is a need for this, and you understand that it will be easier for you, then weep, only a really strong person can sometimes afford this.’
Jennifer covered her face with her hands and gave free rein to tears. Kristin hugged the shoulders of a weeping Jennifer Davidson.
Having calmed down a bit, Jennifer Davidson whispered, only barely audibly, ‘Thank you, Kristin.’
‘Look around, see how delightful this world is: the sky, which soothes, inspires and fascinates us; the North Sea is an insatiable pleasure and eternal admiration, and the gulls seem to hover over the water. And then you will understand why you live on earth.’
‘Kristin, you speak like a teacher,’ said Jennifer Davidson in surprise.
‘You’re right, Jennifer. I am a teacher, it just so happened that I am not working now.’
‘Why?’
‘Bad English,’ said Kristin, sadly.
‘Your English isn’t that bad.’
‘You speak like a real Scot. You’re all very polite and try not to offend, but this is not reflective of the true position.’
‘Yes? I didn’t realize, Kristin, that we are like this.’
‘Of course, this you cannot notice, it’s your culture.’
‘Is your friend, Martina, a teacher too?’
‘No, she is an artist.’
‘Kristin, I am also a school teacher. I am so glad that we have a common profession.’
‘So, we are colleagues. And your sister was a teacher too?’
‘No, she was a pharmacist,’ said Jennifer Davidson, sadly. ‘We were so different: views, interests and characters. But we were very attached to each other. We often walked along the waterfront, sat on this bench and dreamed. And it’s so terrible that it was here that she was found murdered. I loved this place so much, but now… I do not know how to live without her, she was my rock.’
‘Jennifer, this place is not to blame for what happened here. This place is part of your life, and you shouldn’t hate it.’
‘Kristin, I live not far from here. May I invite you to my house for a cup of tea? My boys are at home, they are probably worried.’
‘I will agree, with pleasure, I can only visit for a short while. Today, I am going to the theater with my husband.’
‘Then let’s go, we don’t have much time. Will you go to the theater in Edinburgh?’
‘Yes, to the opera, Carmen.’
‘Kristin, do you also like ballet?’
‘Jennifer, I am ashamed to admit, but I like music more. Music inspires me.’
‘I love dancing, I once danced seriously and while taking part in a competition I met James Jackson.’
‘Jennifer, this is so interesting. Did he dance too?’
‘No, he played the saxophone.’
‘Did Danielle go dancing?’
‘No, my sister did gymnastics, she always had an excellent figure, which she was proud of. Kristin, do you miss France?’
‘Oh yes, we moved to St Andrews after my mother-in-law’s death.’
‘Do you like Scotland?’
‘Scotland is my second homeland.’
‘Kristin, this small house is my home.’
‘Cute house.’
‘Yes, I love it, although it does require the odd small repair inside,’ said Jennifer Davidson, and she opened the front door. ‘Please, come in.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kristin.
‘Hi, boys! I am home, we have a guest,’ shouted Jennifer Davidson.
Happy boyish voices were heard from the next room.
‘Mom, you’re back, hooray!’
‘Kristin, let’s go to the living room and I will introduce you to my boys,’ said Jennifer Davidson, proudly. ‘Children, this is Kristin, my good friend.’
‘I’m Leo. I am the oldest,’ said the red-haired boy, thoughtfully. ‘I am already eleven years old.’
‘Hi, Leo. I am Kristin,’ greeted Kristin in return.
Jennifer Davidson approached a boy sitting in a wheelchair who had light blond hair and huge kind eyes, carefully hugged and kissed him on the forehead, and then said softly, ‘This is my youngest son, Chris, the sunniest child.’
‘Hi, Chris,’ said Kristin and hugged him. She now understood why Jenny had such anxious and sad eyes and the look of eternal fatigue on her face.
Chris looked at his mother with a smile and pleading eyes and said, ‘Phone, phone.’
‘Okay, okay, if you only play for forty minutes,’ warned Jennifer Davidson.
Chris happily nodded his head in agreement.
‘Leo, give him the tablet computer,’ said Jennifer Davidson. ‘Kristin, please sit in the chair. I will bring us tea.’
In Chris’s eyes, infinite happiness was expressed when Leo brought him the tablet.
‘This is his favorite activity. He can play for hours,’ justified Leo. ‘Kristin, do you have children?’
‘I have an adult son; he is studying at university. Leo, do you like studying?’
‘Yes, I love maths. I want to be a
doctor like James so that I can help my brother.’
‘Leo, you are a very smart boy that you care about your brother so much,’ said Kristin, quietly.
At that time, Jennifer Davidson entered the living room with a tray in her hands, on which were two small porcelain cups, a teapot, a milk jug and some pieces of cake. She carefully poured the tea into the cups and asked, ‘Kristin, would you like some milk?’
‘Thank you, I prefer tea without milk,’ answered Kristin.
‘The cake is very light and tasty,’ Jennifer Davidson said, and sat down on a small sofa in front of Kristin. Leo silently walked over to his mother, sat down next to her and gently hugged her.
Jennifer Davidson carefully hugged her son, kissed him on the head and gently asked, ‘Did you miss me, my dear?’
Leo silently nodded his head and hugged his mother even tighter.
Kristin could not help noticing the touching tenderness and care he treated her with, but what feelings of apprehension and anxiety were clearly expressed in his eyes. She wanted so much to run up to him, hug him and ask, ‘Child, what bothers you so much? What fear torments you?’ However, she looked at the boy with tenderness and said, ‘Leo, I am sure that you are the main assistant for your mom?’
‘Yes, he is my little man. Children are my elixir of life. They are my whole life,’ said Jennifer Davidson, belligerently. She brought the cup to her lips and took a slow sip of tea then continued. ‘Kristin, I did not think your son was old enough to be a student. You look so young and wonderful.’
‘Thank you, Jennifer. Yes, my son is studying at university. By the way, this is a very tasty sponge cake,’ remarked Kristin and bit off a piece.
‘Chris, can I get you a slice of cake? This is your favorite,’ said Jennifer Davidson to her son.
In response, there was silence. Chris was just so keen on his computer game that he simply did not notice the wafting voice when his mother addressed him.
‘He does not hear us; his attention is all in the game. Oh, I think someone is coming into the house,’ said Kristin, hearing the front door open.
‘This is your dad,’ cast Jennifer Davidson, dryly.
‘Daddy, is that you?’ shouted Leo.
‘Yes,’ Craig Davidson answered in a dissatisfied voice and entered the living room. He looked at Kristin with an aloof glance and said in an indifferent tone, ‘Hi, I am Craig.’
‘Kristin…’ Kristin replied with a frozen smile. Her heart beat at a frantic pace, the words “Tattooed Man with Red Hair” were spinning in her head.
‘Craig, would you like a cup of tea?’ asked Jennifer Davidson.
‘Yes, please,’ said Craig Davidson reluctantly and sat down on a chair.
Noticing Kristin’s pale face, Jennifer Davidson anxiously asked, ‘Kristin, are you all right?’
Kristin, trying to avoid looking directly at Craig Davidson, abruptly got up from her chair and with a half-smile on her lips said nervously, ‘Oh, yes, I just have to go home. Thanks for the delicious tea, bye, kids.’
‘I’ll walk you out,’ said Jennifer Davidson and got up from the couch.
She silently walked Kristin to the door, opened it, and said, weeping, ‘Thank you, Kristin. Thanks for coming. Can I ask you a favor?’
‘Yes of course. If it is in my power, I will.’
‘Kristin, tomorrow, we say goodbye to Danielle. I would very much like you to be present too, if you have no other plans.’
‘Of course, Jennifer, I will come.’
‘Tomorrow at twelve p.m. we will gather in James Jackson’s house, there will be only the closest people to Danielle. Come, please. I’m glad we met. Thanks.’
‘Thank you, Jennifer. You should get some rest, tomorrow, you will have a difficult day.’
‘Thank you, Kristin.’
‘See you soon.’
‘See you, Kristin.’
Kristin was going home at a fast pace; time had passed quickly, and it was already about one in the afternoon. She promised Cameron to be home at twelve thirty p.m., he is probably worried. However, Kristin was more preoccupied with Craig Davidson, who was a heartless and nasty man. She thoughtfully repeated, ‘Poor Jennifer Davidson, poor children, what a betrayal. Oh, mon Dieu! It is necessary to send a text to Martina.’
She pulled her mobile phone out of her bag and wrote a message, ‘Hi, Martina! I have found the tattooed man with red hair! He is Craig Davidson, the husband of Jennifer Davidson. Tomorrow at noon I am going to say goodbye to Danielle Jackson at her funeral. Hugging you. See you soon.’
The Simpson Couple
The Simpson house had a beautiful, landscaped garden and was located in the prestigious area of St Andrews opposite the golf course. Chief Inspector Steve Duke noted that the property and its location would be admired by any passerby and especially by his wife.
The Simpson family, as noted by Inspector Dave Tanner, had an impeccable sense of style, but it was very discreet and tactful. The living room with its antique look made an unusual impression on Dave Tanner. It seemed to him that he was in some kind of timeless salon or museum.
‘Mr Simpson, you and James Jackson are not just colleagues, but also good friends. Is this true?’ asked Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘Yes, we have been friends since our university days,’ answered Mark Simpson.
‘Mr Simpson, can you describe him?’ continued Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘Yes, of course. He is a professional, reliable friend and the kindest person. He is very cultured, erudite and diplomatic. He has very intelligent parents who gave him an appropriate upbringing.’
‘Mr Simpson, what can you say about his wife?’
‘I… I can only say a little. He loved her very much, but they were very different.’
‘Why do you think they were different?’
‘They had different interests, views on life. I think that she was a prudent woman.’
‘Mrs Simpson, what do you think about the Jackson family?’ said Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘About James Jackson, I can confirm what my husband said. He is our colleague, and everyone in the clinic respects and values him. He is a very decent person. We are also members of the same golf club. We met his wife only on special family occasions. We did not have such close contact with her. I think James was not happy with her in their marriage, although I think he loved her.’
‘Tell me, please, what can you say about that last family dinner at the Jackson house? Maybe you noticed something unusual?’ asked Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘I noticed James’s happy face. Everyone had fun and drank wine, except Craig Davidson. Surprisingly, he modestly sat on the couch and drank beer, although he was a fan of making some noise. We talked about sports and politics,’ said Mark Simpson in an excited voice.
‘Yes, and Danielle Jackson was a bit unnatural, she smiled all the time and said something stupid that I can’t even remember. James was so happy that evening, elegantly courting guests,’ added Lisa Simpson.
‘What time did you leave the Jackson house?’ asked Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘At about 9.20 p.m.,’ responded Mark Simpson.
‘And where did you go after the Jackson anniversary dinner, Mr Simpson?’ asked Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘We went home, the children had to be put to bed,’ answered Mark Simpson, abruptly.
‘Mr and Mrs Simpson, where were you on the evening of the seventeenth of September between eleven thirty and eleven forty-five?’
‘We were at home,’ said Mark Simpson, who looked excitedly at his wife.
The sudden ringing of a mobile phone silenced the chatters. Inspector Dave Tanner apologized, took his notes and went out into the garden.
Chief Inspector Steve Duke deliberately coughed, apologized, and after a few seconds he asked. ‘So, you were present during the family conflict?’
‘It is exaggerating to say that it was a conflict. I remember only that James shouted furiously, “Yo
u are a liar?” Am I right, my dear?’ said Mark Simpson turning towards his wife.
‘Yes, my dear, you’re right,’ confirmed Lisa Simpson.
‘However, others present claimed that he declared, “I will kill you; you are worthy of death!”’ stated Chief Inspector Steve Duke.
‘I cannot exactly confirm these words, because I’m not sure. I would also like to note that to declare this does not mean that you would actually want to kill someone. I have known James for many years, believe me, he is not capable of hurting anyone or anything,’ said Mark Simpson, anxiously.
‘Well, Mr and Mrs Simpson, thank you for your contribution. If any other questions arise for you during our investigation, we will invite you to the police station for further discussions,’ declared Chief Inspector Steve Duke. ‘See you in due course.’
‘Thanks. See you,’ responded Mr Simpson.
When Steve Duke got into his car, Inspector Dave Tanner said, ‘That was a call from the forensics department. James Jackson’s fingerprints were found on the broken umbrella and the blood on it was confirmed as that of Danielle Jackson. In addition, the suspect does not have an alibi for the time of the murder. We now have an arrest warrant ready for James Jackson.’
‘Good. So, tomorrow, Danielle Jackson’s funeral will go ahead without the attendance of her husband,’ said Steve Duke, calmly. ‘Still, it’s all very strange.’
‘Why do you feel that it’s strange?’
‘Dave, the murder weapon was lying, openly in a rubbish bin in such a prominent place. Believe me, nothing happens this easily.’
‘But, chief, the fingerprints belong to him.’
‘Yes, that is a fact. By the way, did you notice that Mark Simpson was constantly twitching during our conversation. I’m sure that something is bothering him and probably keeps him awake at night.’
Thinking Over a Cup of Coffee
At eleven in the morning, Kristin sat alone in her kitchen-dining room over a cup of coffee and enjoyed an aria from Carmen, the opera by Bizet. It seemed that Danielle represented the gypsy, Carmen, filled with the spirit of freedom and denial of laws. Carmen enjoys the attention of men, not thinking about their feelings, where the unfortunate James Jackson was like Jose, Carmen’s unfortunate lover, who suffers because of his adoration. Poor Jennifer Davidson is like the deserted Michaela from the opera, while Craig Davidson is the equivalent of Escamillo, who is the famous toreador satisfied with his life.
Trap for a Goose Page 8