Perfect Crime. Helen Fields

and withdrew a pack of Gauloises cigarettes. Shaking one loose, he stuck it between his lips unlit, tasting France and his youth. Actually, lighting a cigarette was a line he hadn’t crossed in years, but there were times he wished he wasn’t quite so disciplined.

      ‘I’ve got to tell you that’s not quite the reassuring response I was hoping for,’ Ava said. ‘Oh, Luc, for God’s sake, you’re going to have to tell me everything. You were the last person save for medical staff with access to that room. Bruce Jenson has a son. He’s demanding answers and is entitled to them. At the moment, there are only a handful of people who know what’s going on, but that won’t last long. You’ll have to be formally interviewed, so if this was police business you’d better write up some notes pretty damned quickly.’

      ‘It wasn’t,’ he said quietly. ‘It was personal. I didn’t want to leave my name in the visitors’ book for his family to see.’

      ‘So you lied to me about having been there and you lied to the nurse about the nature of your visit.’

      ‘I guess,’ Callanach said.

      ‘The nurse also said that you broke a vase while you were there, that you cleaned up after yourself and put it in the bin. Will your fingerprints be on it?’

      Callanach thought back. He’d put gloves on to pluck the hair from Jenson’s head, but not to clean up the broken pottery. There hadn’t been any reason to at the time.

      ‘There’ll be plenty of prints,’ he said. ‘It was an accident.’

      ‘Think very carefully about this next question. Did you touch Bruce Jenson at all? Is there any possibility that you could have left skin cells or fingerprints on any part of his body?’

      Callanach sat down, recalling the way he’d taken Jenson’s chin in his hand to direct his attention towards the photograph of his parents. He nodded affirmation at Ava.

      ‘Anywhere near his mouth?’ Ava asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.

      He nodded again.

      ‘Holy shit,’ Ava said. She tapped the desk and stared blankly at the wall. ‘Okay, it’s not that bad. No one’s going to believe you were involved in a murder. You just need to present your reasons for being there and explain the sequence of events. They don’t have any sort of motive for you to have hurt him and that’s the most compelling evidence in cases like this. It’s probably someone who has day-to-day contact with him.’

      ‘You think it was a staff member who killed him?’ Callanach asked.

      ‘That would normally be the first consideration,’ Ava said. ‘It’s hard work looking after dementia patients and carers have been known to break down, either from the stress of the job or from a desire to end the suffering quickly. We’ll be checking the family too, of course …’ Her voice trailed off.

      ‘There’s a but,’ Callanach commented.

      ‘Actually, the “but” is broken glass in the lower section of a patio door. Scenes of Crime think the glass was broken potentially to allow an intruder to reach up inside and unlock the door. It explains why no one apart from you or staff members was seen in the corridors during the evening. That’s extremely helpful to you. Why risk being identified by the staff and then breaking the door? It makes no sense. Either that or it’s genius deflection.’ She gave a small smile.

      ‘Ava …’ Callanach whispered.

      There was a knock at her door.

      ‘Come in,’ she called brusquely.

      Pax Graham entered, keys in hand. ‘Oh,’ he said, looking from Ava to Callanach. ‘Am I interrupting?’

      ‘Not at all,’ Ava replied, back to businesslike. ‘I was just asking Callanach about the nursing home. He was there visiting Mr Jenson. I’ve asked him to go home now and write up a full statement to give you as much information as possible. Once that’s done, you’ll have to speak with him on a formal witness basis, of course. Usual procedures will apply. Make sure you keep a team with no overlap to DI Callanach on this matter. You can have DS Lively and DC Monroe. Let me know what other resources you’ll require.’

      Graham looked uncomfortable.

      ‘Is something wrong, Detective Inspector?’ Ava asked.

      ‘Not that I’m unhappy about being given the case, ma’am, but should we not send this outside MIT? If there’s any question about DI Callanach’s involvement, it might be helpful for him to have it investigated and be cleared by an impartial team.’

      ‘He’s right,’ Callanach said. ‘You’re going to have to suspend me for the duration of the investigation, too.’

      ‘You’re both overreacting,’ Ava said. ‘Callanach’s a witness, nothing more. No one’s suggesting that he was involved in the commission of an offence. There’s been no complaint filed. It’s not as if you tried to conceal your presence at the nursing home. Graham, you might have the best possible witness. I suspect it’ll turn out to be extremely fortunate that a police officer was on the premises just before the murder happened. Callanach might well have noticed something that other people would have missed.’

      Graham paused. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘That sounds right. I’ll be getting on then. Luc, you’ll forgive me if I don’t chat to you very much during the investigation? I don’t want anyone suggesting there was contamination.’

      ‘I understand,’ Callanach replied. ‘Very sensible.’

      Graham left without further conversation. Ava walked to a drawer and pulled out a bottle of whisky.

      ‘We shouldn’t,’ Callanach said.

      ‘You’re damned right we shouldn’t,’ Ava said, ‘but we’re going to. I have about a thousand questions for you and this isn’t the right time or place.’ She pushed a measure of single malt into his hand. ‘Down it.’ She ordered. ‘You look like hell, so pull yourself together before you leave this room. If you’re not guilty, you’d best stop acting guilty.’

      ‘I want you to suspend me,’ Callanach said, putting the empty glass down on the desk.

      ‘You’ve been suspended before, back at Interpol. You hadn’t done anything wrong then and look what damage it did to your career. I’ve got your back, Luc, but I need the whole truth.’

      ‘It’s not that simple,’ Callanach said.

      ‘So find a version that is,’ she replied, finishing her own drink and replacing the bottle cap. ‘Now go home. I’ve got to head off this impending hurricane with Overbeck, then I’ll join you. We’re going to go through what happened second by second, until there’s no possible space for misinterpretation. None at all.’

      It was a nice idea, Callanach thought. The only problem was that the opposite was true and when Ava found out why he’d been there, even she would start to doubt his innocence. Though that wasn’t what really bothered him. He knew perfectly well he hadn’t killed Bruce Jenson. But someone had. Straight after his visit. Using a cushion he’d touched. Coming through a door he’d kicked. What he wanted to know was who and why.

       Chapter Seven

       4 March

      It was well after 6 p.m. before Ava got away from the station and Edinburgh’s traffic wasn’t letting her go anywhere in a hurry. Fortunately, Detective Superintendent Overbeck had been out of the office all afternoon engaged in a bout of brass-kissing, so Ava wrote her a brief, bland email explaining that Callanach had been at a crime scene immediately before the event and that MIT was screening off that investigation from him. It was intellectually dishonest but technically correct, and that would have to do until