Stay of Execution

15

‘How was the identification?’ asked Stevie Steele. ‘Was he reasonably presentable?’

Maggie Rose grimaced. ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘he looked dead, but otherwise okay, if you get my drift. But I really do hate those things, all the more so when it’s a wife or husband who’s doing it. I wish to God Mrs Whetstone had asked her brother-in-law, as I suggested.’

‘Bad, was she?’

‘Not till the end. That was the worst of it in a way. She was so bloody stoic at first. She took a deep breath, and nodded for the attendant to turn back the sheet. Then she took another breath, and looked closely at the face. She must have gazed at it for about two minutes, quite impassively, until finally she nodded again and said, “Yes.” She almost made it out of the room, but not quite. We were just short of the door when she collapsed; just sort of turned and leaned on me, as if she was giving in, and burst into tears. She’d me going as well, I don’t mind telling you. Afterwards, when she’d got hold of herself again, she was embarrassed. I don’t think I coped with that any better.’ She looked away from him. ‘I’m just not one of nature’s comforters, I’m afraid, Stevie.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he concurred. ‘You’re a police officer, not a social worker. You were there because it was your job. . although you could just as well have sent me, or young Tarvil for that matter. So stop beating yourself up, for Christ’s sake, and choose a starter.’

She looked at the menu. ‘You choose. I’ve made enough decisions for the day.’

‘Clispy duck, then?’

Maggie grinned. ‘Fine.’

‘Sweet and sour pork?’

‘Fine.’

‘Chicken and black bean sauce?’

‘Fine.’

‘House white?’

‘Hell no! Chablis.’

‘See, you can’t get away from giving orders. That’s why. .’

‘That’s why my marriage broke up?’ she shot at him, before he could finish, taking him by surprise.

‘I didn’t mean that at all. What I was going to say was it’s no wonder you’re a workaholic.’

‘Who says I am?’

‘I do. So does everyone else in the force. I’ll bet that the next thing you were going to ask me was work-related.’

When her cheeks reddened slightly, he was taken aback for the second time inside a minute. ‘Actually, you’re right,’ she confessed. ‘I was going to ask you about Whetstone’s coat.’

‘We recovered it. I’ve sent it off to Arthur Dorward at the Howdenhall lab.’

‘How about the step-ladder? Have we recovered that yet?’

‘No, and the chances are slim that we will.’

‘It puts suicide back in the frame, though. It existed, that’s for sure. There was no reason for Glazier to make that up.’

‘It may be back in the frame,’ said Steele, ‘but I’m still not certain that I buy it.’

‘Why not? He could have taken it from his office.’

‘There’s something else; I only heard about this late on, so this is the first chance I’ve had to tell you. He was hanged with a leather belt.’

‘Yes.’

‘When they got him back to the morgue, they undressed him and sent all his effects out to the lab. The man was wearing braces. Not just that. Ivor Whetstone had a thirty-six-inch waist. The belt that hanged him was a size forty-six; long enough to tie securely to the tree and still leave enough to put a noose through the buckle.’

‘He could have bought the belt for the purpose.’

‘I’m sure somebody did; it was expensive, very strong leather and it looked new. I’m nearly as sure. . well, let’s say I think there’s a chance. . that when we track down the purchase, whoever bought it won’t fit Whetstone’s description.’

‘We’ll see. That aside, and going back to the coat, someone from Howdenhall will need to see Mrs Whetstone.’

‘For hair samples for elimination purposes? Yes. And the dog too. They’ll need to clip some of its fur.’

‘Maybe not elimination?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, as you reminded me at her place, if you’re right, then for all her performance she still hasn’t been ruled out as a suspect.’

‘Oh, yes, she has,’ Steele countered. ‘While you went off with her to the morgue, and while George and Tarvil were at the Wee Black Dug, I went to see her neighbour. . the one with the Tolkien video. She confirmed that they had supper together, then watched the movie, all three hours and whatever of it.’

She frowned across the table. ‘I never told you to do that.’

‘It’s called initiative, ma’am. It had to be done, and quickly too. Don’t worry, Maggie: I told Mrs Dallas it was purely routine and that there was no need to mention it to Mrs Whetstone, if she thought it would upset her.’

‘Do you think she will?’

‘No, I don’t. She had a hell of a shock too when I told her what had happened, but she understood what I was saying. I told her that we were releasing the name after the identification anyway, and that it would be public by tonight.’

‘Did you ask her anything else while you were there?’

‘Of course I did. I asked her how well she knew Whetstone. She told me that he and her husband were pally, and that they played golf together. I asked her about his demeanour recently. She said that he’d been on top of the world, and really chuffed with himself over the way his job was going. She said that he was a workaholic as well, by the way, but that at least he found time for his golf.’

‘But not for his wife?’

‘She didn’t say that, but now you mention it that may have been implied.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve got a niggle yourself?’ he asked.

‘No, not really. It’s just. . I’ll be happier when there’s a clear line of inquiry. I’ll be happier when we have Dorward’s crime-scene report, and I’ll be happier when we’ve got the post-mortem report. With those together we should be able to say whether we have a suicide, or something else.’

‘If we do, I’m pretty clear where we go after that,’ said Steele. ‘Straight back to the bank. We should talk to his golf pals, just in case he had any worries that he mentioned to them, but I’m sure our best way forward lies in looking at his client relationships. Nobody loves their bank manager; maybe one of Mr Whetstone’s customers was in trouble and had good reason to hate him.’ He chuckled. ‘We could always charge wee Moash, of course, but even the rawest advocate would get him acquitted if we did. He didn’t nick the bike till this morning, and he didn’t make the phone call till then, but the man died last night.’

‘Agreed,’ Rose murmured, ‘but what if. . We know Glazier didn’t kill him, but what if it was just a random mugging that went wrong? What if the hanging was an attempt to cover it up?’

‘The autopsy should tell us that. When’s that happening, by the way? And who’s doing it?’

‘Sarah Grace is handling it, but she can’t do it before tomorrow morning. It’s longer than I’d have liked, but it’s acceptable. Rigor mortis will have passed off by then. I want you to go along, incidentally: nine a.m. tomorrow, at the new Royal Inf irmary.’

A corner of his mouth twisted in a smile. ‘You’ve made my night,’ he muttered.

‘Don’t think about it and it won’t put you off your food,’ she said, as the waiter approached.