The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural (4 page)

‘You never know, we might get lucky,' said Sukey.

‘Always the optimist,' said Vicky. ‘Right,' she continued, pointing, ‘as I recall, the victim was lying on his back about there when we arrived, about four feet from the edge of the water and parallel to it. The paramedics had withdrawn to about here,' she moved a short distance to her left, ‘and the doctor was squatting down examining the body with his back to us. Several woodies were standing a short distance away with flashlights focused on the scene of operations. Does that sound right to you?'

Sukey nodded. ‘Yes, I think so.'

‘Anything you want to add?'

‘From where we're standing I believe he was lying with his head to the left,' Sukey said after a moment's thought. ‘Not that it makes much difference that I can think of at the moment.'

‘We have to record every little detail,' said Vicky. ‘As there wasn't any suggestion of a suspicious death at that stage there weren't any CSIs here to search for clues or take pictures.' She ducked under the tape with Sukey behind her. ‘Now, as Sergeant Drury said, the surrounding area has been pretty churned up but we'd better go over it with a toothcomb. I think we agreed he was lying about here,' she indicated with a gesture, ‘so we'll start at the water's edge and search backwards. I'll take the side where his head was and you take his feet.'

They put on plastic gloves, squatted down and began a minute search of every square inch of ground, poking gently with their fingers among trampled blades of wet grass. After a few minutes Sukey gave a little exclamation. ‘Found something?' said Vicky.

‘A cigarette butt, only half smoked.' She picked it up and held it out on her outstretched palm. The two of them peered at it for a moment.

‘No lipstick, so it was probably smoked by a man,' said Vicky. ‘I wonder why it wasn't finished. Maybe it was Rainbird, strolling down towards the water with a lighted cigarette in one hand. Perhaps he stumbled and fell, hitting his head on one of those and suffering concussion.' She indicated a row of rocks of varying sizes lining the edge of the lake. ‘Remember what we were thinking yesterday?'

‘The wound was on the back of his head,' Sukey pointed out. She put the cigarette butt in an evidence bag, labelled and sealed it. ‘If he'd tripped while he was strolling down towards the water, which seems the most likely, wouldn't he have hit his forehead?'

‘Unless he sort of spun round after tripping and fell backwards,' said Vicky. ‘No,' she went on before Sukey had a chance to speak, ‘that doesn't sound very likely.'

‘Let's assume someone else was the smoker,' said Sukey. ‘Perhaps he was already there waiting for Rainbird. He lit a cigarette, took a few puffs, Rainbird arrived and they had a conversation.'

‘Which turned into an argument,' said Vicky, taking up the theme. ‘Rainbird said something which infuriated the smoker, who lost his temper, threw down his cigarette and felled Rainbird with a lump of rock. That would mean Rainbird turned away, perhaps intending to go back to the house, in which case the smoker could have attacked him from behind.'

‘And then chucked his body into the lake,' said Sukey. ‘It sounds feasible – except those rocks look quite firmly set in the earth.'

‘Let's see if we can shift any of them.' Vicky went to the water's edge, took hold of the nearest rock and attempted to lift it. ‘Can't move that one,' she said. ‘I'll try another. Ah, this one's loose … but I can't lift it. You're the fitness freak; you have a go.'

Sukey bent down, grasped the rock and managed to raise it a few inches. ‘It's loose all right, but it's too heavy for me to pick up,' she said after a moment's effort. ‘It'd take a really strong person, probably a man, and he'd have to be tall enough to strike a heavy blow to the head unless the victim was quite a bit shorter than himself – or bending down. Was Rainbird about average height, would you say?'

Vicky shrugged. ‘As far as I can remember, but that's the sort of information we'll need from the doctor. And of course this is all conjecture – the rock might have come loose for an entirely different reason. Just the same …' She took an evidence bag from her pocket. ‘Could you roll it on to one side so I can get a sample of whatever's clinging to the underside? With luck it might match something in the wound on his head.'

‘I'll have a go.' Sukey bent down again and managed to turn the rock sufficiently for Vicky to take her sample. ‘Despite what Freeman said,' she went on when she had recovered her breath, ‘it's possible that it happened as we suggested: Rainbird fell into the water unaided because he was a secret drinker and was a bit unsteady on his feet. So it could be accidental death after all.'

‘Well, the death will have been reported to the coroner, who will almost certainly order a PM,' said Vicky. ‘We can't do much more here until we have the results. Now we'd better start talking to some of the people on Freeman's list.'

They returned to the hotel and spoke to the manager. ‘Do you know how Mr Rainbird met his death?' he asked anxiously.

‘We've made several observations, sir,' said Vicky, ‘but I'm afraid there will have to be a post-mortem, which we hope will yield enough information for us to establish the exact cause of death. That could take up to a week, possibly longer. You may be able to help us on one point; have you noticed any of Mr Freeman's group smoking?'

Chapman shook his head. ‘We operate a complete no smoking policy throughout the hotel,' he said. ‘A person wishing to smoke is at liberty to do so anywhere in the grounds, but they are requested to dispose of their cigarette stubs in receptacles provided outside the entrance before returning indoors.'

‘Thank you,' said Vicky. She turned to Sukey. ‘Let's have a look at this list; who shall we speak to first?'

‘What time do they have their coffee break?' asked Sukey.

Vicky consulted the programme. ‘Ten forty-five.'

‘Why don't we make a start then, rather than interrupt the first session?'

‘That's not for nearly half an hour. What do you suggest we do meantime?'

‘We've been assuming Rainbird fell into the water at the point where he was fished out, but aren't we told never to assume anything without confirmation?'

‘You aren't suggesting he was attacked somewhere else and then carried down to the water before being chucked in?' Vicky's tone was incredulous. ‘Why on earth would the killer do that? If, as seems probable, this was an unpremeditated murder, surely he'd want to get the job done and get the hell out of it as quickly as possible. There was always a chance of being spotted.'

‘I know it sounds far fetched,' Sukey admitted. ‘I just have a hunch that we've been taking too much for granted.'

‘You and your famous hunches!' Vicky sighed. ‘Oh well, it'll help to pass the time, I suppose.'

‘It's quite a big lake and there are plenty of trees around,' said Sukey as they walked back. ‘Parts of it may not be visible from the hotel. Suppose he was chucked in a short distance from where he was found? No, that wouldn't work, there's no current so he's unlikely to have drifted. You're probably right; we'd be wasting our time. Shall we go back indoors?'

‘No, let's press on. I know I make fun of your hunches, but more often than not you come up with the goods.'

They began a slow, anticlockwise walk along the water's edge, carefully scanning the ground for possible clues. A small flotilla of ducks swam to meet them, obviously hoping for food. Presently they came to a tall golden cypress a few metres away to their right; the foliage reached almost to the ground, but part had been cut away to make a small space where a seat had been placed, facing the water.

‘That's a nice sheltered spot to sit and have a smoke and watch the ducks,' said Vicky. ‘And the swans,' she added as a couple went gliding past.

‘Or to meet someone …' Sukey added.

‘Or lie in wait for someone …'

‘Let's take a closer look.'

They spent several minutes searching the ground. Using pocket magnifiers and flashlights they went over every inch of the wooden seat in the hope of finding traces of hair or fabric that might suggest someone had sat there recently, but they drew a blank. ‘Not a sausage,' said Vicky. ‘No dog-end or ash either, so the smoker didn't sit and light up here.' She glanced at her watch. ‘Let's give ourselves another five minutes and then go back. I could use a coffee.'

A short distance further along they came to a large pile of recently hewn timber. ‘That came from a pretty hefty tree,' Vicky commented. ‘One of those chunks of wood would make a lethal weapon in the wrong hands. Let's take a closer look.'

‘It's plain to see how they got here.' Sukey pointed to traces of tractor wheels. ‘They dumped their load and then the driver and probably his mate went round checking that there was still plenty of space between the pile of logs and the edge of the water.'

Vicky nodded. ‘To leave plenty of room for walkers, I guess. It's a huge lake; it'd take quite a while to walk right round. Hence the strategically placed seats – there's another one over there. Anyway, let's go back; it's coffee time for the music lovers.'

The group was just leaving the Orchard Room and heading across the entrance hall to the library, where a waiter was pouring coffee and tea and offering a choice of biscuits. Freeman spotted them and beckoned; when they had been served they sat down in a window seat beside him. ‘Have you had a good morning?' asked Vicky.

‘Very good indeed,' he said. ‘I think everyone enjoyed it.'

‘It sounds like it,' said Sukey, who had been listening to the enthusiastic comments from the participants as they enjoyed their refreshments.

‘Thank you for not interrupting us,' Freeman added. ‘They were all a bit jumpy at first and took a while to settle, so that was really appreciated. Have you made any progress?'

‘We've made certain observations, which we shall of course pass on to DI Rathbone,' said Vicky. ‘Perhaps now would be a good time to start interviewing the people in your group. You specifically mentioned a few who you thought might have had more to do with Rainbird than the others, but declined to give any details as to why you had picked them out. We might as well start with them.' She took her copy of the list from her pocket. ‘Eric Bowen. Would you mind pointing him out to us?'

‘He's over there, chatting to Millie.'

‘Charlotte's carer?'

‘That's right.'

‘So where's Charlotte?'

‘She's probably in the disabled toilet which is just through there, round the corner.' Freeman indicated a door on the far side of the room. ‘She doesn't like Millie standing outside while she's in there – I don't know why, maybe she suspects she'll have her ear to the door, she does tend to be a bit paranoid in some ways – so Millie has to leave her chair outside to indicate that it's occupied and she sends her a text when she's ready. Eccentric, but that's Charlotte for you.'

‘So Millie enjoys a few moments' freedom once in a while,' Vicky said drily. ‘I hope she makes the most of them.'

Watching them, Sukey suspected that Millie would have preferred to drink her coffee in peace instead of listening to Eric's non-stop critique of the morning's choice of music, interspersed with additional comments. ‘He seems to have a lot to say for himself,' she remarked. ‘Is he always that talkative?'

Freeman laughed. ‘He isn't known as Eric the Loquacious for nothing,' he said. ‘Let me introduce you.'

‘There's no need for that, we can introduce ourselves thank you.'

Eric Bowen and Millie Chandler were seated at a small table close to the door. As Vicky and Sukey approached he was declaiming the superiority of Alfred Brendel's interpretation of Schubert's piano music over that of the pianist whose performance of the piano sonata in D they had just heard. He appeared not to notice that Millie – who, Sukey thought, appeared totally bemused by this display of erudition – had risen from her seat in response to a message on her mobile and was already going out of the room by the time they reached the table.

‘This table is well tucked away so we might as well talk here rather than waste time finding one of the rooms Chapman has set aside for us,' said Vicky. She reached for an extra chair and she and Sukey sat down facing Bowen.

‘
Do
sit down,' he said. He had a slightly high-pitched voice and his tone had a sarcastic edge. ‘I suppose you want to ask a lot of routine questions. Justin said you want to speak to everyone about Lance Rainbird's death. I can't imagine why; surely it was an accident.'

‘Until we know exactly how he came to be in the water,' said Vicky, ‘his death is being treated as unexplained.'

‘Is “unexplained” a euphemism for “suspicious”?'

‘Perhaps you'd allow us to ask the questions.'

The sharpness of her tone had a somewhat deflating effect on Bowen, who shrugged and said, ‘Of course. Fire away.'

‘Most of the windows in the Orchard Room face south over the lake,' Vicky began. ‘Before the start of the evening session, did you happen to look out of any of them?'

‘Of course not; the curtains were drawn. It was dark out there.'

‘You might have lifted one of the curtains to take a quick look outside for some reason.'

‘Well, I didn't.'

‘All right. Now, Mr Bowen, how well did you know Mr Rainbird?'

‘Not well at all and I didn't particularly want to. You had to respect his knowledge of music of course; he really knew his stuff – and never missed a chance to show it off.'

‘Do we take it you didn't like him very much?'

For the first time, Bowen's plump features creased in a faint smile. ‘Let's just say he wasn't the sort of person I could warm to,' he said, adding hastily, ‘but I didn't have a particular grudge against him and as far as I know nobody else did either. He just didn't – how can I put it – encourage or inspire familiarity. He was a regular visitor to Justin's events and always took an active part in discussions – too active for some people – but if he had enemies I don't recall seeing anything to suggest it.'