‘There’s been another murder. It took place in the home of the victim, a girl aged twenty-five called Flora Erskine. She lived in a house in Dean Mews, own front door. Throat cut, again. A piece of paper was, as usual, left. This time the word’s “untrustworthy”, and we’re back to lined paper and green ink. It had been placed by her head. The graphologists have confirmed that it’s the same hand again. She was found dead this afternoon at about one o’clock by a pal, Maria Russell. Miss Russell spoke to the dead girl last night at about seven pm and, so far, it seems that no one saw or spoke to her after that. The same fingerprints have been found at the Mews as were found at Bankes Crescent and Granton Medway. A tall dark-haired man was seen by one of the girl’s neighbours, George Hurst, leaving the Mews at about nine pm. Uniforms are still doing door-to-doors in the area and further information may be forthcoming soon. We’ve got the dog squad searching for a weapon, or anything else, as I speak.
Importantly, a connection between this victim and the last appears to exist. DCs Rice and Watt have discovered that Flora Erskine and David Pearson were engaged in an affair. Information to this effect came from the witness, Maria Russell, and seems to be confirmed by remarks made by Alan Duncan, Pearson’s friend. Photographs of David Pearson were found by Flora’s bed and their contents would be consistent with such a relationship. We already knew that Pearson and Elizabeth Clarke had, approximately five years ago, an affair. No connection, as yet, has been made between Flora Erskine and Sammy McBryde or either of the two of them and the doctor and the QC.
Ian Melville was under surveillance last night and this morning, and all his movements are accounted for. I’ve just put a watch on Pearson’s widow. She may have an alibi for the McBryde killing, but she’s got nothing covering the crucial times for her husband, Dr Clarke or Flora. So far, as you know, McBryde’s the real mystery here in amongst all these New Town types. Laura Pearson’s now got a lawyer acting on her behalf and I don’t want anyone, and I mean anyone…’, she looked sternly around the room, ‘…to talk to her from now onwards without my specific permission to do so. The press will go mad once news of the Erskine killing leaks out, and it will, judging by past experience. No one is to say anything to any journalist, whatever favours they have received in the past from any of the dangerous beggars. A press conference with the Chief Constable has been fixed for first thing tomorrow morning. In the meanwhile, I want DS Travers and Carter to attend Flora Erskine’s post mortem. It’s been fixed, provisionally, for five pm this afternoon. The body’s already been ID’d. A full statement will be needed from Maria Russell, DC Littlewood…’
The briefing went on and on, but Alice’s attention was elsewhere. In her mind she wandered through Flora Erskine’s house in Dean Mews trying to catch a glimpse of the girl’s character, her personality. The rooms had all been tidy, well-ordered, everything seemed to have a place and everything was in its place. Her desk had neat piles of paper on it and a number of different coloured pens were to hand; evidence of their use could be seen on some of the documents. She seemed to have been fond of sport-a tennis racket and hockey stick were in the hall-and also to be a keen cook. Her kitchen displayed a professional-looking array of gleaming knives and pans, and her bookcase was overfilled with recipe books. Alice’s recreation of the young advocate’s home ended when her shoulder was tapped by DC Littlewood. She was wanted in DCI Bell’s office again. Her heart sank. Let her wait, she thought, she wanted to see whether Ant’s fax had come through. On her desk was a sheaf of fax paper with a covering note on Faculty of Advocates’ headed notepaper.
‘Hi sweetheart, sorry not to be able to speak to you on the phone. I was in court attempting, unsuccessfully, needless to say, to interdict a woman from cutting down a leylandii hedge. I fed Elizabeth Clarke, David Pearson, Flora Erskine and Tommy MacBride into the SLT database and guess what came out? The “Mair case” you mentioned, its official citation is “Mair v Lothian Health Board”. I assume that this is the one you were looking for? No hits for Tommy MacBride, I’m afraid. Let me know if you need anything else. Ant.’
Alice cursed herself for not spelling out ‘Sammy McBryde’ to the air-headed receptionist.
As she entered the Chief Inspector’s domain, Elaine Bell still had her briefing notes under one arm and was sitting on the edge of her desk examining the wallet of photographs of David Pearson. She gestured, mutely, for Alice to take a seat and continued to study the prints. The phone rang but she ignored it until, eventually, it silenced itself and she spoke.
‘What do you think, Alice?’
‘About what exactly, Ma’am?’ she replied cautiously.
‘Laura Pearson. You and Alastair have seen more of her than the rest of us put together. Could she have done it?’
‘No.’
‘Well, don’t be coy. Explain, please’
Alice sighed. ‘No, I don’t think she could have done it. I don’t think she even had a motive. I’d bet my life, well maybe Alistair’s life, that she had no idea who Flora Erskine was, that the girl was dead or that her husband was screwing around with her. When we broke the news it shattered her, or gave every appearance of doing so. If she didn’t know about Flora Erskine she’d have no reason to kill her, and I don’t think she’d have touched Elizabeth Clarke either. She seems to be a very rational character, controlled, not some kind of hot-head…’.
‘She’s all we’ve got,’ Elaine Bell said desperately.
‘Maybe, but it’s a bit thin. Even if she did have a motive, what else is there? She’s small and two full-grown men were overpowered. One of them was a labourer, she couldn’t have managed that. The prints in Bankes Crescent, the Medway and the Mews are not hers, whoever else’s they may be. Her accomplice? Not a shred of evidence about that, if so. On the other hand she is clever, she knew where all our questions were going and she gives the impression of something, someone, forged by fire, capable of taking much more than most without buckling or breaking.’
Sensing her boss’s dejection, she continued. ‘One interesting thing has turned up though, Ma’am. Before I came to see you I checked my desk. I’ve been sent a fax by an advocate friend of mine. It’s a case report involving in some way or other Dr Clarke, Pearson and Flora Erskine. It may be nothing, a mirage, but it seems worth following up. I’ll get a copy to you.’
‘Yes, you do that Alice,’ the Inspector said wearily. ‘I haven’t time to read it now. Body will be coming in the next few minutes together with the Chief Constable, as somehow the press are going to have to be contained, and the conference tomorrow will be our best opportunity to prevent them from whipping up further hysteria. I’ll be shut up with the pair of them dealing with the draft release for the next hour or so, but if the report’s helpful in any way please let me know. We need every bit of good news that we can get at the moment. I don’t envy the Chief Constable his role tomorrow at the press conference.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Alice began to move towards the door.
‘And by the way, Alice’, she smiled almost sheepishly, ‘I’m sorry…’ She stopped herself, rephrased her thought and began again. ‘I may, earlier, have been a bit sharp with you. Mrs Winter rattled the cages of the great apes who hold all our careers in their grimy palms. We could do without Wilkinson’s early involvement too… but the stuff you got from Laura Pearson has been useful, very useful.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
The report of the judgement in the Mair case was long, over twenty sides, but Alice settled herself in her chair eager to make a start. Before she had read the first few lines she was interrupted.
‘Well, are you ready for action?’ Inspector Manson said, standing in front of her.