‘No, it’s the practice manager; her name’s Taylor. It’s about a girl they’ve had brought in. They think. .’
‘Let her tell me, Kath,’ he interrupted. ‘Put her through.’ He listened, until he heard a change in the background noise on the line. ‘Miss Taylor,’ he began, ‘DS Wilding, what can I do for you?’
‘It’s Mrs; Mrs Rita Taylor. We’ve got someone here, a young woman, we think she may have been assaulted in some way.’
‘What does she say?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Is she unconscious?’
‘No, but she’s in a deeply confused state. She can’t even tell us her name.’
‘You said she’s young. How young?’
‘Obviously we can’t be sure, but looking at her, I’d say she’s in her mid-teens.’
‘Who brought her in?’
‘A delivery driver. He told our receptionist that she stepped off the pavement in front of his van, just up the road from the surgery. He stopped in time, thank goodness. He said he thought she was drunk, and got out to give her a piece of his mind, but realised very quickly that wasn’t it.’
‘Is he still there?’ Wilding asked.
‘No, he had to get on with his rounds and so he left.’
‘That’s a pity. We’d have liked to talk to him.’
‘Why?’
‘Who’s to say he was telling the truth?’ He paused. ‘But that can stick to the wall for now. Let’s concentrate on the woman. You said you think she’s been assaulted. Is she cut, bruised? Has she been knocked about?’
‘No, but the doctor who took a look at her thinks she may have been sexually assaulted. He doesn’t want to conduct a detailed examination without your presence, because she isn’t in a state to give consent. He is fairly certain, though, that she’s taken a drug or possibly been given one.’
‘Date rape?’
‘That thought has occurred to us.’
‘We’ll be right along,’ said the sergeant.
‘Can you send a female officer?’ Mrs Taylor asked.
‘In a case like this, that’s automatic. We’ll attend shortly.’
As he hung up he was aware that both DCs were looking at him. Quickly, he filled them in on the half of the conversation that they had been unable to hear. ‘Get your coat, Alice,’ he told Cowan, as he stood. ‘You’re needed on this. You mind the store, Griff.’
‘If you say so, Ray.’
There was hesitation in his voice and Wilding caught it. ‘But?’
‘When I was in South Africa, I worked for a spell on a dedicated sex crimes unit. I’m actually trained in the area.’
‘How long were you on it?’
‘Two years.’
‘OK, if you want it, I’m happy to let you handle it.’
‘Who’s in charge?’ asked Cowan, with a hint of belligerence.
‘For fuck’s sake, Alice,’ the sergeant snapped. ‘I am. You’re colleagues, of the same rank; work together. Get along there, find out what this thing is all about, then report back to me.’
Nine
As he looked down at the body, Valdas Gerulaitis started to shake, so violently that dandruff began to fall from his shoulders like tiny snowflakes. Jack McGurk took him by the elbow. ‘Steady, sir,’ he said. ‘Just concentrate on the arm, and the back of the right hand; that’s all we need you to look at. Ignore the rest of it.’ He knew that he was asking the impossible; a towel had been placed over the head, but it did little to conceal the truth, that most of it was missing.
It may have been the sergeant’s words, or it may have been embarrassment over his weakness, but the Lithuanian recovered his composure. ‘Yes, yes,’ he whispered, as he stooped slightly to peer at the small, but intricate, tattoo on the dead man’s right deltoid, but only for a few seconds before straightening again. ‘That’s Tomas. I don’t need to look at the other one to tell you. I was with him when he had it done. He dared me to have one as well. I hate needles but I couldn’t lose face, so I did.’ He turned his back on the trolley, his nostrils narrowing as if to fight off the antiseptic odour. ‘Can we get out of here?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ said McGurk. He nodded to the attendant, and led the way back into the anteroom, with its curtained window, through which the viewing would have been done in circumstances that did not require a closer inspection. A little old man was waiting there; he was so small that his students in Edinburgh University’s pathology division were known to call him ‘Master Yoda’ behind his back, and occasionally plain ‘Master’ to his face.
‘Your cousin?’ Professor Joe Hutchinson asked.
Gerulaitis grimaced. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He paused, awkwardly. ‘I know that sounds inadequate, but one thing I’ve learned in a long career is that there’s no consolation for family members in this place.’ He craned his neck to look up at the skyscraper-like McGurk. ‘What do you want me to tell you, Sergeant?’ he asked.
‘Your findings will do, Professor.’
‘That’s not difficult. In shorthand, death was caused by the total destruction of the brain and cranium, the result of contact gunshot wounds. It was instantaneous.’ He glanced at Gerulaitis. ‘You couldn’t do it any quicker,’ he added, for his benefit.
‘And?’
‘You want me to spell it out, Jack? Man, this is as obvious and determined a suicide as I’ve ever seen. There are no marks on the body that offer even the faint possibility that Mr Zaliukas was restrained, or tied up, or anything else. I assume that the lab is doing residue testing on his clothing, as we’re doing on his hands.’
‘Of course.’
‘Then you’ll find without doubt that he fired the gun. I know nothing about Mr Zaliukas, about his background, his business or anything else, but the fact that CID are handling this matter and asking these questions points me in a certain direction. Well, my boy, whatever madcap theory you are pursuing, you can nip it in the bud. This is suicide, and that is what I would say under oath, absolutely and unequivocally.’ He frowned. ‘Come on, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘You weren’t expecting me to say anything else, were you?’
Mindful of Gerulaitis’s presence, McGurk fought off the urge to smile. ‘No,’ he admitted, ‘but we have to be thorough. You, of all people, must realise that.’
‘Oh yes,’ the tiny pathologist conceded. ‘I know how the Force works. . as my students will tell you.’
Ten
‘How was your dad?’ asked Pippa Clifton.
Alex Skinner threw her secretary a cool glance across her new work space. ‘My dad was fine, thank you. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. . other than the fact I’ve always thought he’s dishy. He reminds me a bit of that guy on the telly; you know the one I mean, he’s on everything. He plays a judge, and a policeman, and. .’
‘Excuse me, woman, are you looking for a smack in the mouth? The chap of whom you speak is about fifteen years older than my dad, and chubby with it, these days.’
‘They can do wonders with make-up,’ Pippa chirped on. ‘He must be really pleased, your dad, about you being made a partner. My mum was astonished when I told her.’
‘That’s comforting to know. In that case I’m sure your dear mother will be the first to appreciate that because I’m a partner my time is now even more valuable, so unless you’ve got something work-related to tell me or ask me, please bugger off back to your desk.’
‘I have, actually. There’s one of your dad’s finest in reception, asking to see you.’
Alex frowned. ‘About what?’
‘He didn’t say. He came in asking for Mr Conn; when he was told he’d retired, he asked for whoever’s taken over his clients.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Detective Constable Haddock, would you believe? Like that chap out of Tintin.’
Alex’s eyebrows rose slightly. She had heard of DC Haddock, the one with the nickname, from Maggie Steele. ‘Pippa,’ she began, ‘must all the people in your wee life relate to TV actors or cartoon characters? Go fetch him please, but tell him he’s got two minutes unless it’s something I can bill out to a client, in which case he has as long as I reckon his interest is worth.’