The Elemental (Blair Dubh Trilogy #1) (7 page)

They all turned to look at Martin, who swallowed hard and nodded.
“I suppose that would fall in my remit. I’d best go first.”

The others were relieved, glad someone was willing to take control of the situation.

Tentatively Martin crossed the hallway, heart hammering in his chest as he reached out for the bathroom door. He looked back over his shoulder at the others who all nodded, encouraging him on. He swallowed again, sweat breaking out on his forehead, the sense of wrongness so strong he could almost touch it.

Gathering his courage he pushed the door and it slowly swung open. The first thing he saw was water all over the white tiled floor. His immediate view was of the sink and toilet. From his previous visits here he knew the bath and overhead shower were round the corner to the right, out of sight of the door.

“Be careful, it’s slippy,” said Martin, voice a weak croak. He stepped inside and, gritting his teeth, looked to the right. “Sweet Jesus,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“
What is it?” demanded Howard, shoving his way into the room, alarmed by Martin’s tone. “Oh my God,” he cried before running back out into the hall. The sound of vomiting followed a moment later.

Catriona lay draped forwards over the side of the bath, her entire upper body submerged in the water, dark hair streaming out around her. The water was tinged red. Most disturbingly, her hands were bound behind her back.

“Catriona,” yelled Lizzy, running to her friend’s side.

Martin joined her and pressed his fingers to her neck.
“She’s gone,” he said, voice hollow with shock, sliding to the floor beside Lizzy.

“
She’s not. Help me get her out, you can revive her. I know you can.”

“
That’s beyond any doctor, she’s been gone too long.”

“
No she’s not, you can save her.”

“
Look at the colour of her skin, feel how cold she is. It’s futile,” he said, pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his lips, hand shaking.

A sob escaped Lizzy
’s lips before she crumpled into a heap and started to cry.

“
We’d best call the Police. This is a crime scene and they don’t need us contaminating it,” said Martin, attempting to pull himself together. “Come on Lizzy Sweetheart.”

“
We can’t leave her on her own,” she wailed, her big moon face an ugly blotchy red, tears and snot running down it.

“
We must if the police are to do their jobs and catch who did this.”

“
Martin’s right,” added Brenda. “We don’t want to destroy any evidence the killer left behind.”

Quietly they filed out of the room, Martin having to take Toby by the shoulders and steer him back to the sitting room. He walked like a zombie, eyes wide with shock and if Martin hadn
’t been helping him he might have fallen over. They all skirted by the pool of vomit left by Howard, who was shivering on the floor. Brenda helped him up and he clung onto her.

“
I’ll call the Police,” said Martin, pulling out his mobile phone.

Craig’s shift started with a fight in the small town of Fairlie, nothing serious, just a couple of teenagers who almost burst into tears when he said he had to tell their parents. When that was done he was ordered to go to Blair Dubh, there’d been a suspicious death.

He drove far too fast all the way there in the torrential rain, terrified something had happened to Freya or that she
’d lost her temper and hurt someone. He was first on the scene, although back-up was on its way.

“
Craig, thank God you’re here,” said Martin the moment he opened the door of Catriona’s cottage.

“
What’s happened?” he said, scanning the room, relieved to see Freya wasn’t there.

“
It’s Catriona. She’s upstairs, drowned in the bath. She was murdered.”

“
How do you know it wasn’t an accident?”

“
Her hands are tied behind her back.”

“
Jesus.”

He regarded the five pale shaky people looking back at him, their eyes wide and scared.

“Book Club?” he asked Martin, who nodded. “I’ll take a look. I must ask you all to wait here. I’ll need to take your statements.”

They all appeared so miserable he felt sorry for them, they probably just wanted to get out of there.

Martin led the way and Craig found himself staring down at the body of a woman he’d known his entire life.

“
I’ve already ascertained that she’s dead,” explained Martin.

Craig just nodded. It wasn
’t the first dead body he’d seen, nor was it the first time he’d seen someone he knew dead. But viewing his dad in the funeral home laid out respectfully after he died of natural causes was very different to this show of violence and her death had clearly been terrifying. Objects were scattered about the room, lying in the puddles of water on the floor, a tall cabinet overturned. Her wrists were bruised from the ropes binding them, biting into the bloated skin.

“
How long would you say she’s been dead?”

“
I’m no pathologist but I’m guessing no longer than a couple of hours.”

“
I’ll call it in.”

While they waited he went downstairs to take their statements, but they all told him the same thing and he learnt nothing that could help him find who did this.

“Can we go now? I need to get out of here,” said Howard, still a little hysterical.

“
I’m sorry but you have to stay. A detective’s on their way, they’ll want to talk to you.”

“
Please, I have to get out,” he cried, racing for the door.

Craig put himself before it and Howard found himself staring up at six foot one of solid policeman.

“Sorry Howard, you’re staying.”

When Howard buried his face in his hands and started to cry Brenda wrapped an arm around him, led him to the couch and thrust a whisky into his hands. The little man took a sip of the liquid and coughed. Brenda sat down beside him and puffed on the blue inhaler clutched in her hand.

“Are you okay?” Craig asked her.

She nodded, releasing a wheezy breath.
“The asthma gets worse when I’m under stress. I’ll be fine, much better than Catriona,” she replied, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Craig was relieved when he saw the lights of the emergency vehicles cutting through the gathering darkness, watching the convoy approach from the door of Catriona
’s cottage. The storm was really starting to kick up, belching in cold air through the open doorway but that was preferable to waiting in the house with the body and five overwrought witnesses, all of whom wanted to leave. He saw Freya standing at the door of her cottage anxiously looking out so he jogged over to her.

“
What’s going on?” she said.

“
There’s been a death,” he replied.

“
Who?”

“
Catriona.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening with shock.
“What happened?”

“
We’re not sure yet.” He thought it best to lie to her for now. If she knew the truth she’d think it was happening again and he’d no proof of that. This was how the murders started last time, with a drowning in a bath tub. “Just stay inside and I’ll be back to update you.”

Her eyes swept to the cars and vans pulling up outside Catriona
’s cottage, numerous fluorescent jackets leaping out of the vehicles and she was so nervous he could see the pulse jump in her throat. “Okay, thanks,” she said before hastily closing the door.

It was almost midnight by the time Catriona’s body was taken away. Normally CSI wouldn’t have been in such a rush but the road was becoming impassable and they wanted to get her out while they still could.

“
Sergeant Donaldson, I want you and two PC’s to stay in the village. I don’t want it cut off without a police presence with a murderer on the loose,” said the Procurator Fiscal, a tall almost skeletal man with fuzzy gray hair. “DI Armstrong is following up on a case in West Kilbride and will come straight here as soon as she gets done.”

Craig felt better knowing a detective was going to take over responsibility, however DI Armstrong was a bitch of the first order. If anything went wrong she
’d be sure to pin the blame squarely on him, it was how she operated. “Yes Sir. McKay, Reid congratulations, you’ve drawn the short straws. You’re spending the night here.”

Neither of the young PC
’s appeared thrilled at the prospect but McKay was highly intelligent with a talent for getting people to open up to him while Reid was as hard as nails. Just the sort of officers you wanted with a killer on the loose.

“
Sir, are you aware of what happened here fifteen years ago?” Craig asked the Fiscal.

“
The Elemental Murders? Isn’t everybody? I believe the daughter of the fourth victim has just returned to the village?”

“
Yes Sir, Freya Macalister.”

“
And she has an extensive criminal record.”

“
Nothing in this league.”

The Fiscal frowned at the defensiveness in his tone.
“Sergeant, I trust in your ability to remain neutral and detached. I want you to prove you deserve your reputation.”

“
Yes Sir,” he icily replied.

“
Fine. Now I’m out of here before I get trapped in this Godforsaken place,” he said, seemingly forgetting it was Craig’s home.

“
So, what first?” said PC Reid, a strapping six footer with a shaved head and deep set blue eyes. “Want me to interview Miss Macalister?”

“
Now why would I want you to do that?” replied Craig.

“
Just a hope. I saw her standing at her door. I love Goth birds. Very tasty.”

Both PC
’s were surprised when Craig’s expression hardened.

“
What have I said?” pouted Reid.

“
We’re here to find whoever held a woman’s head underwater until she drowned. We are not here to have fun. If neither of you can grasp that fact then you can fuck off right now.”

“
Sorry Sarge,” said Reid, hanging his head.

Even though he hadn
’t done anything wrong Craig glared at McKay too for good measure, who likewise bowed his head.

“
PC McKay, you speak to everyone in the surrounding cottages, see if they saw anything.” The tall lanky man with brown hair and the baby face nodded.

“PC Reid, you have the honour of guarding the crime scene. All night.”

“
Sarge,” he muttered.

“
I’ll
go and interview Miss Macalister. The privilege of rank, eh Boys?” he called over his shoulder as he wandered outside and down the road to Freya’s cottage.

Not surprisingly, she was still wide awake when he arrived.

“Come on in,” she said. “You look freezing.”

Craig was pleased she
’d let him in. After what he’d been told about PC Docherty he’d assumed she’d make him stand on the doorstep.

“
Do you want a hot drink?”

“
I’d love a coffee thanks,” he said, removing his coat as he recalled what his friend had told him and hanging it up in the porch. Then he followed her into the kitchen in just his black trousers and jumper.

Her hand shook as she spooned out the coffee into the mugs. Craig knew if she was ever to trust him properly then they had to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I heard about PC Docherty.”

The spoon clattered from her hand.
“Who told you?” she said, clinging onto the worktop, keeping her back turned to him.

“
I have a couple of friends in Glasgow. Apparently you know one of them, Sergeant Williams. He got talking about you.”

“
So you didn’t call him to ask about me?”

If he told her the truth then he
’d alienate her for good and probably drop the poor lovelorn Dr Pierce right in it. He had no choice but to lie. “No. We keep in touch regularly. When he called I mentioned my old friend had come back to Blair Dubh and he said he knew you. He’s pleased you got clean, he said to pass on his best.” She didn’t reply, just continued to cling onto the worktop, head bowed. “Animals like Docherty are rare Freya. The majority of us are good people.”

“
I know but when I see the uniform, especially the fluorescent jackets, I get scared, I can’t help it. He always wore his jacket when he attacked me and when I see one now I just want to run.”

“
Did he attack you a lot?”

She nodded.
“Sometimes I’d fight back but that only made him angrier. A couple of times I managed to outrun him, but somehow he always found me and the beatings were even worse. I made sure I was constantly drunk so when he did find me I couldn’t feel it. But he’s in prison now and will be for a very long time.”