Perfect Crime. Helen Fields

Maybe she was tomming.’

      ‘Okay, get asking the neighbours if there were men – or women, for that matter – coming to the flat at odd hours, or if Mrs Hawksmith was coming and going at unusual times. Does she have any previous convictions?’

      ‘Still checking. We don’t have a confirmed date of birth yet. She doesn’t have a passport or driving licence here that we’ve found.’

      ‘Do we know what the cut was made with?’ Ava looked around the tiny bathroom.

      ‘We haven’t found a blade or a weapon,’ Tripp said.

      ‘Really?’ Ava asked. ‘Is there blood anywhere else in the property?’ She tried to peer through the plastic sheeting beneath her feet. ‘Blood on the bathroom floor, even?’

      ‘None,’ Ailsa said, appearing behind Tripp. ‘Excuse me, young man.’

      Tripp moved out of her way to let her stand over the body with a thermometer.

      ‘Decomposition is advanced. Thank goodness it’s not warm enough for the insects to be out in force yet, or this would be an even worse situation. As it is, my estimate of death won’t be terribly precise. I don’t know how long she spent in the water after passing, but I can tell you that her death would not have been immediate. There was little clotting around the wounds, so the water was warm and that kept the blood flowing.’

      ‘How long would she have suffered?’ Ava asked.

      ‘Difficult to say, but this isn’t the deepest of cuts. Keeping the ankles up above the buttocks would have kept the bleed more constant and her heart would have continued beating for possibly four hours, maybe longer. Eventually, her heart would have stopped. She might have gone into shock and died faster. I won’t be able to give you exact figures.’

      ‘Four hours? God Almighty!’ Ava said. ‘She’d have been screaming for help. I can’t believe no one heard her.’

      ‘The window was shut, the walls are thick – the property’s got to be a hundred years old – and there’s every chance people had music on or TVs playing. Or perhaps they were used to the sound of screams coming from this flat,’ Callanach suggested.

      ‘Could she have done this to herself, Ailsa?’ Ava asked.

      ‘She could easily have put the cable ties around her ankle and the taps, then run the bath. Logically, after that, she’d have had to have closed the cuffs around her left hand, made the two incisions on her inner arm, then got her right hand into the cuffs and snapped them shut.’

      ‘Which leaves the question – where’s the blade? Even if she’d thrown it out of the bath, it would still be somewhere in the bathroom,’ Callanach said, looking around. He shifted his body forwards to give himself the flexibility to turn, then opened the toilet lid. ‘One mystery solved. No blade, but the key to the handcuffs is at the bottom of the bowl.’

      ‘Don’t touch the water,’ Ailsa instructed. ‘If someone else was here recently, we might just get some cells from the seat or beneath the rim, possibly information about sexual diseases from any urine left in the bowl.’

      Ava climbed past Ailsa to stare down into the toilet next to Callanach.

      ‘Looks like the right key to me. Small round barrel, ornate bow at the top. It’s obviously not meant for a door.’

      ‘Everyone out of here, please,’ Ailsa ordered. ‘I’ll need to get my team in to retrieve that and take samples.’

      They left one by one, regrouping in the small lounge, where photos of cats and the late Mrs Hawksmith hung on the walls.

      ‘Ailsa,’ Ava said when the pathologist had finished giving instructions to her crew, ‘is there anything she could have done to stop the bleeding? You said the victim probably had hours rather than minutes.’

      ‘If she’d had her legs free, she could have pulled the plug chain with her toes and the bleeding would have stopped sooner, if she’d thought of that. The problem is that using her stomach muscles to sit up and fiddle with the taps and chain would have made her heart pump faster and the bleed rate would have increased. She would also have been scared, panicky, not made good decisions. It’s possible she thought her screams would be heard, or perhaps she was expecting a visitor who might have helped. Tripp, how was the flat secured when police first attended?’

      ‘Locked, but the chain wasn’t across. Didn’t require much effort to bash it open, ma’am. It’s an old door.’

      ‘Right, we’ll let you get on, Ailsa,’ Ava said. ‘Looks like we’ll be seeing you again in the morning. Could you have a preliminary assessment by 11 a.m.?’

      ‘Certainly,’ Ailsa said, stripping off her gloves and stepping forwards to press gentle fingers into Ava’s forehead around the lump. ‘What happened?’

      ‘Tripp,’ Ava said. ‘I want officers canvassing the neighbourhood tonight, not tomorrow. And I want every bit of information on Mrs Hawksmith we can get. Focus on next of kin. It looks like she lived here alone, but there must be someone who’ll want to be notified. I want a briefing ready for the squad by 1 p.m. tomorrow. You can go.’

      Tripp disappeared out of the flat, looking happy to be away from Ailsa’s disapproving glare.

      ‘Are you going to answer me or should I guess?’

      ‘Slipped at Tantallon, bumped myself. No big deal. I’m still standing,’ Ava said, taking off her gloves and unzipping her overalls.

      ‘You’re limping more than standing. If you fell and bumped your head, how did you hurt your leg?’

      ‘The leg is actually hurting a bit.’

      Ava tried a brief grin. Ailsa didn’t return it.

      ‘Let me see,’ Ailsa ordered. ‘Come on, in the bedroom.’

      ‘Ailsa, this is a crime scene, I can’t just …’

      ‘Bedroom, now,’ Ailsa snapped. ‘I’ve got better things to do than to argue with a stubborn girl who takes too many risks. Now move.’

      Ava did as she was told, in part because Ailsa was an old friend of her mother’s and generational correctness was an involuntary response, but also because her leg really was hurting and having someone qualified take a look at it felt like a good call. It was clear from Ailsa’s sharp intake of breath that Ava’s self-diagnosis was right.

      ‘Is your tetanus shot up to date?’ Ailsa asked.

      ‘Ummm, should be. I’m sure I’d have been notified if it needed updating,’ Ava murmured.

      ‘You need antibiotics, straight away, strong ones.’

      ‘I don’t suppose you can …’

      ‘I’m a pathologist, Ava. We’ve had this discussion before. I might have stitched you up in the past, but there’s no reason for me to carry a prescription pad. And forget making an appointment with your doctor for next week sometime. You’ll have to go to accident and emergency.’

      ‘I’ve actually got quite a lot going on. Is there another option?’

      ‘There is!’ Ailsa replied brightly. ‘You can decide not to do as I say, and get an infection that at best will result in you needing time off work and at worst will require surgical intervention.’ She waited until Ava had done her jeans up again then called Callanach in. ‘Luc, she’s to go directly to the hospital. A & E. Prescription for antibiotics that you’ll have to collect immediately thereafter. Do not let her drive, or change her mind, or fail to take the antibiotics. Who put the Steri-Strips on?’

      ‘Callanach,’ Ava told him. ‘Don’t be too hard on him. I thought he did a great job.’

      ‘He did his best with a wound that should have been treated by a doctor immediately. You could have come to me when it happened as an alternative.