Fatal Last Words

Five

‘Why have we caught this one?’ Detective Inspector Sammy Pye asked quietly. ‘It’s a bit off our patch.’

Neil McIlhenney nodded agreement, as the two men stood in the centre of the yurt. ‘That’s true,’ the detective superintendent conceded, ‘but Gayfield Square don’t have the staff to handle this at the moment. Some clown. .’ he said, jabbing himself in the chest with his right index finger, ‘who calls himself CID commander in Edinburgh inadvertently approved a holiday rota that left a DS in charge there for the second half of August. We’ve got a dead MSP in that plastic box on the floor; no way am I lumbering a detective sergeant with the investigation. You’re almost at full strength, apart from DC Montell, so you’ve got it. Besides, it’s the head of CID’s policy to put expertise and efficiency before territorial layout. If he was here, and not on bloody leave himself, he’d say that your diplomatic skills might be required.’ He paused. ‘Speaking of Montell, who’s he on holiday with?’

‘His sister, or so he told me; they’ve gone back to see their folks in Cape Town. Why?’

‘Oh, nothing.’ He was silent for a few seconds, as if he was weighing up whether to say more. Then he went on. ‘I’m never quite sure how things are between him and Alex Skinner, that’s all.’

‘What does the DCC say? He talks to you, doesn’t he?’

‘Not about his daughter’s love life, he doesn’t; not that he’d know anyway. He told me a while back that Alex had laid things on the line for him: he doesn’t ask her, and she doesn’t ask him. I suspect that my daughter will be taking the same line with me one of these days.’

‘What age is Lauren now?’

‘Still short of fourteen. She’s a great kid, though; she’s a big help to my wife with the baby. Wee Louis’ turning into a handful, and his mum’s finding out that having your first when you’re in your forties is a hell of a thing. Not just your first; in my case he’s number three, and it’s still quite an upheaval.’ Suddenly he smiled broadly. ‘Speaking of babies, I dropped in on Maggie Steele the other day. Her Stephanie’s a right little cracker, and Mags is looking great too. She’s finished all her chemo, she’s got the colour back in her cheeks, she’s looking fit, and her hair’s growing back in. She’s got a pageboy style; never seen her like that before.’

‘That’s great to hear,’ said Pye. ‘As for Montell and Alex, if there ever was anything, I reckon now they’re just good friends and next-door neighbours, and that’s how it’s going to stay. I thought I caught Alice Cowan giving Griff the eye a week or so back, and I didn’t see him look away.’ Pye glanced around the yurt. ‘Has the DCC gone?’ he asked.

‘Yes. He left just after I got here; and I’m off myself in a minute. I don’t see anything to keep me here. The young doctor’s adamant that Glover died of a heart attack, but the boss wants all bases covered. He’s not saying that it’s a suspicious death, but there are one or two questions that need to be asked and answered before we can wrap it up and report to the fiscal.’

‘There’ll be a post mortem, won’t there?’

‘Of course, as soon as you can dig up two pathologists to carry it out. You’d better see if Professor Hutchinson’s available, since the deceased is a public figure. . it’s sad but true, you don’t stop being a celebrity just because you’re dead. If old Joe can do it, he’ll bring in his own assistant.’

‘What about the scientific team? Should we call them?’

‘What’s your view?’ McIlhenney countered.

Pye frowned. ‘Dr Mosley?’ he called to the director, who was standing alone at the entrance to the yurt, looking harassed, and possibly impatient also. ‘Has this place been cleaned since yesterday?’

‘No,’ she replied as she stepped towards them. She glanced at her watch, which told her that it was twenty minutes before eight. ‘The contractors are due on site in about five minutes.’

‘Since the Festival began,’ the DI continued, ‘how many people have been in here?’

‘We only started yesterday, but even at that. . my staff, authors, their publicists, editors, sales people, media, caterers. . there must have been well over a hundred.’

Pye glanced at the superintendent. ‘Then it’s a forensic haystack. If we were looking for something specific, maybe, but we’re not, so it would be a waste of time and money.’

‘Then don’t bother,’ said McIlhenney. ‘Just get on with interviews. Do you have enough people? If you feel you haven’t, and you ask me nicely, I will stay and help.’

‘No, boss, I can manage. We both know this is a formality anyway.’

‘Then get it done as quickly as you can. Move the body to the morgue, and let Dr Mosley’s cleaners in so she can be ready to start the day’s programme.’ The director looked up at him gratefully. ‘Give me a call once the autopsy confirms the cause of death,’ he told Pye, a parting shot as he headed for the side exit, beyond which the black mortuary van was parked, ready for its sad cargo.