Death's Door

Three

‘Most times it’s obvious, isn’t it?’ said Detective Sergeant Ray Wilding. His face was pale in the neon light of Edinburgh city mortuary’s observation gallery.

‘What?’

‘Cause of death.’

‘So?’ Stevie Steele challenged.

‘So it doesn’t make any difference. They still go through the whole rigmarole, and it still takes a hell of a long time. I had a victim once; he was brought in here with a knife stuck in his chest, wedged right in his sternum like the sword in the fucking stone, and yet it was four hours before they were done with him. Look at this poor lass. .’

‘The pathologist’s name wasn’t Arthur, was it? Arthur King?’

Wilding stared at the inspector. ‘No, it was Sarah Grace, the DCC’s ex-wife. There isn’t one called Arthur King, is. .’ He broke off, as the point struck home. ‘Very funny. Anyway, as I was saying, look at this lass. She’s got a bullet hole in her head, but you can bet they’ll open her up, take all her bits out. .’

‘Enough, for Christ’s sake!’ Steele protested. ‘I don’t need a commentary. However clear-cut it looks, it’s all necessary. What if they go in there and find the bullet lodged in bone? What if it didn’t kill her, and she died of something else? I read of a politician in Ireland, years ago, who was shot five times in the head and survived.’

‘His brain must have been so small they couldn’t hit it,’ the sergeant growled. ‘What odds are you offering against this girl having died of a gunshot wound?’

‘That’s not the point. The autopsy report goes beyond immediate cause of death because that’s how the procurator fiscal wants it. The Crown has to build a complete case: by the time the thing comes to court there just can’t be any questions that it can’t answer. Look at it another way: it’s an important part of our own investigation; a full examination can throw up all sorts of things that might help us.’

‘Like what? She had sand under her fingernails?’

‘A hell of a lot more than that, Ray, and you know it. Okay, her clothing was undisturbed and there was no sign of sexual assault when she was found, but the likelihood is her killer was known to her; that’s true of most homicides. Maybe they had consensual sex, and maybe he left his DNA inside her.’

‘I hope he did.’ Wilding sighed. ‘We’ve got no clue to her identity so far. She doesn’t match any missing-persons’ reports, and there’ve been no alarms raised in and around Gullane since the news broke.’

‘Early days yet, Sergeant. What’s got into you, anyway? It’s not like you to be so bloody negative.’

‘Don’t mind me, gaffer. Autopsies always get to me.’

On the other side of the glass screen a door opened. Dr Aidan Brown and a similarly gowned colleague stepped into the examination room, where the body of Mario McGuire’s angel lay naked on a steel table.

Steele felt his forehead tighten. ‘And me, Ray. And me.’