to tell a teacher. But do no more than that; don’t go thumping any more kids. There’s a reason for this. The wrong sort of people might use it to try to hurt Mum and me; they might tell stories to the papers, stuff like that. Understand?’
‘I think so.’
Bob ruffled his hair and lifted him down from the work surface. ‘Good lad,’ he said. ‘On you go now, you can play a game with Mark till it’s time for bed.’
As the boys trotted off together Sarah looked after them. ‘God,’ she whispered, ‘he’s so like you. But he’s still so little; he’s only five. What if this is only the start? What’s going to happen once Mark goes to Fettes? What if he’s going to be bullied?’
‘In that case,’ said Bob, with a faint grin, ‘I’d better start teaching him some restraint holds, so that he isn’t just slugging kids all the time . . . or to hit them where it doesn’t show, so that it’s deniable. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. Jazz is not the bullyable type, as he’s just shown with some effect. There’s more than that, though: I’ve lived in this village for a long time. I know the people here, I know the kids and I know that school. This incident’s as far from typical as you can get. It never happened to Alex when she was there, and it’s never happened to Mark. I’m pretty sure it won’t be repeated. Just to be on the safe side, though, I think you should go back to see the head teacher, and tell her the other side of the story. I don’t want things taken any further, but I’d like the staff to keep their eyes and their ears open, just in case.’
‘Don’t you want to come with me?’ She was frowning slightly.
‘I will if you insist, but I don’t think that would be a great idea. I am what I am; there’s no getting away from that. I don’t know Mrs Rogers all that well, and I wouldn’t want her thinking that the deputy chief constable’s come to lean on her. A quiet word from you would be better.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Sarah conceded. She watched him as he took an onion, some mushrooms and a large red pepper from the fridge, and put them in the drainer section of the sink. As cold water ran on them from the column tap, he put a frying-pan on the hob, poured in a coating of olive oil and a little balsamic vinegar, added a little salt, then turned up the temperature wheel. As the pan heated, he took the vegetables from the drainer, dried them, then began to chop them, carefully, on a thick teak board. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, intrigued.
He grinned, keeping his eyes fixed on what he was doing. ‘What’s it look like? I’m cooking. It’s Trish’s night off, and the bears were fed by the time I got home, so I thought you and I would have a quiet dinner together. If you go and put the lady Seonaid to bed, I’ll be done when you are.’
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.’
