Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
While I cleaned up the body and changed the sheet and blanket we used to cover him, Ewan helped. We’d done this before, and we worked well together.
“My team is doing interviews today. We can’t talk to any of his workmates until next week. We have the corporate team coming from the rig tomorrow.”
“That sounds like lawyers are involved.”
“I’m certain there will be,” Ewan replied.
“But they have to be careful. I bet he was going to be a whistleblower. It sounds like he’s complained to his boss’s boss, at the very least. That could stir up trouble.”
“True. It’s a corporation, and they are only concerned with the bottom line,” he said it as if that explained it all, and it did.
His phone dinged. He looked at it. “That’s Henry. He has Flora with him.”
“What about the daughter?”
“I suggested she stay with Mrs. Beatty at the B&B.” He ran a hand through his hair, which meant he wasn’t looking forward to this any more than I was. This was one of the hardest parts of the job.
We moved him into room one, and Abigail made a few adjustments to the sheet covering him. She also lowered the lights a bit. It made it a more calming atmosphere. Something she’d learned in her psychology classes.
I took a deep breath and then went to open the door for them.
Abigail came out of room one. “We’re ready,” she said softly.
Henry ushered Flora inside.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.
She nodded. I handed her the box of tissues Abigail had provided. It was pretty much the same routine as before. We’d had to do this a few times, and our goal was always to make the grieving as comfortable as possible.
“If you’ll follow me.” I moved to open the door to the exam room.
“Let me know when you’re ready.” I stood next to her Duncan.
She swallowed hard. “I’m ready,” her voice was shaky.
I pulled the sheet back. Then I watched her closely.
Her face crumbled, as if she’d been holding out one last hope.
“Is this your husband?” Ewan asked her.
She bit her lip. “Yes.” The word squeaked out.
Without being told, Ewan and Henry guided her to the chair we had in the room.
“D-do you know what happened?” She stared up at me and then glanced at her husband. “He looks so peaceful.”
“We’re working on answers for you and the police,” I said. “I don’t have anything to tell you yet.”
“I don’t understand. Did he die of natural causes? Was he—drinking?”
“Like Dr. Em says, we don’t have answers yet.”
“No,” I said at the same time. “He wasn’t drinking.”
She frowned. “I was thinking the worst. I feel so guilty. None of this feels real. We’re just shop owners. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens to us. I was telling the officer that on the way here. We are boring people.”
“You’re in shock,” I said. “The police are just being thorough. They have to be,” I said. “We all do. I promise, we are all working hard to find the answers you need.”
She cleared her throat. “Thank you. Can I—can I just sit with him for a few minutes? Is that allowed?”
“Of course,” I said. “We’ll be right outside. Oh, do you need a cup of tea or anything?”
“No. I just want to sit with him.”
I closed the door softly, as we waited for her.
“We don’t have anything,” Ewan whispered.
“Other than he shares a name with the other victim. We haven’t been able to follow his movements since he left home.
He told his wife he went to estate sales, and he bought a booth space for the fête.
That checks out, the booth that is. He’d planned to sell a few things before returning home. But that’s it.
“You didn’t find a phone, right?” he asked. “It wasn’t in the evidence. We want to track his GPS.”
“No. He didn’t have anything. No identification or a phone. Just his clothes and the cheap costume mask and cape. Can’t you track it with his phone records?”
“We’ve asked for them, but it takes time. We haven’t found his vehicle or where he’d been staying.”
“In America, most estate sales are on the weekend.”
“It’s the same here,” Henry said. “My mom hits them all.”
“So what was he doing earlier in the week? She said he’d been gone since Monday.”
“If we can find his phone,” Henry said, “we could check his GPS and contacts.”
“That’s what we were just saying,” Ewan said.
“Do we think it’s a matter of mistaken identity?” I asked.
“Hard not to,” Henry said. “But which one was the target? Do you have cause of death?”
“We are still working on that,” I said.
“Do you have any ideas about what may have happened?” Ewan questioned. “I know you would tell me if you did. I’m open to all ideas.”
“I told you. He had an enlarged heart and too much adrenaline in his body.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Henry said.
“Could he have been scared to death?” Ewan asked. “I read about a case like that in London during a concert, but the victims had taken drugs.”
“We’re still testing stomach contents, along with everything else. I promise as soon as I have some inkling, I’ll let you know.”
But he wasn’t far off. What I couldn’t figure out was what might have scared him so much that he died.
The door behind me creaked open. “I want to go home,” Flora said. “I mean, back to the B&B. I need my daughter.”
“I’ll take you,” Henry said. He put her arm through the crook of his. He was an incredibly kind man. There was a reason he was so good for Abigail and Tommy.
“Wait, I have two questions,” I said.
She turned to face me. “I—OK.”
“It will only take a minute. Did you know he had diabetes.”
Her head snapped back with surprise. “What?”
“So you didn’t know.”
She shook her head. “I know he sweated a great deal especially at night, and he was always thirsty. But we never thought anything of it. He always said he was a human heater. No offense, but he wasn’t a fan of doctors.
I don’t ever remember him seeing one while we were married.
He was always so healthy, not even a cold. ”
He may have been sicker than they both knew for some time.
“Is that what killed him?” she asked. “The diabetes?”
“Like I said, we’re still testing.”
“Is that all?”
“While he was out at the estate sales, did he come across anything—interesting? Maybe he sent a picture or told you about one of his finds? And do you have any idea where he might have been staying?”
“He sent a few pictures of things he found. He did that whenever he wanted me to check provenance or value.”
“Can you send those to me?”
“Yes, of course. And as to your other question, no. If I had known where he stayed, I wouldn’t have been running around this town trying to find him.
But he was cheap when he was traveling. He sometimes slept in his car or at a caravan park.
He liked his creature comforts, but he also didn’t like spending money on hotel rooms. So, he may have rented a caravan or something.
Can I go now? I really need to hug my daughter. ”
“Yes,” Ewan said. “But we may have some follow-up questions later.”
She nodded.
They left.
As they did, Abigail came from the back where she’d been running labs. “I think I have something,” she said. “It’s trace but it might explain how he ended up here.” She pointed to the line.
“You tested for hemlock?”
“I tested for everything,” she said. “I always do when things aren’t definitive. But if he absorbed it through his skin, it might have caused hallucinations.”
“You’re right.”
“Anyone with a bit of sense would know not to have anything to do with it,” Ewan said.
“It may not have been in a recognizable form,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“You said he hunted for antiques and treasures. It could be he picked something up that had the dried version in there. I wish we could find his things. I have a feeling our answers are in there.”
“It’s a priority,” Ewan said. “It’s an older vehicle, so no GPS to trace, but we’re hoping his phone can help us when we find it.”
“We need to find it,” I said. “Or, maybe that’s what this is about. Someone might have been looking for something he picked up. Maybe they stole his car and did something that scared him so bad he died. Before you say anything, I know it’s a reach.”
“But it’s something.” Ewan said. “You’re right. Maybe his things will give us the evidence we need.”
“He could be staying at one of those places with the yurts and cabins,” Abigail said. “Seems like every farm around here has them now. Good way to make money off the holiday tourists.”
“That’s a good point. I’ll get the team on it,” Ewan said. “And good work, both of you.”
“How about one of the bothies? It would be free,” I said.
“Most of them are a fair trek into the Highlands,” Ewan said. “But we’ll do a search.”
Tommy came in. “Done,” he said. “Washed my hands and put my tools away.”
We all smiled.
“Great,” Abigail said. “Good on you.”
“Chippies?” he asked.
That was his favorite place to eat.
“Sure,” she said. She handed me the stack of labs. “It’s also on your handheld, but I know you like paper. If you need anything just call. Oh, and there was something in the stomach contents that is still running. I’ve no idea what it might be.”
“I’ll keep an eye out. You and Tommy go on and thank you for all the help this weekend. As usual, you’ve gone far and beyond your duties.”
She waved a hand. “I had fun.” She frowned. “Well, except for the men dying. That’s never fun. But I feel like I learn something every time we have to do an autopsy.”
“I understand what you mean,” I said. “You two get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
They waved.
I turned to Ewan. “What if he was staying at a bothie. Maybe the one up the mountain from here. It’s free and close to town.”
“Right, but then where did he park his car? We’ve looked all over town for it.”
“It’s worth a look, right? We can make a quick dash up there just to see.”
“Or I could send one of my team.”
“Come on, Ewan, it won’t take us long.”
He sighed and then nodded.
“Let me grab my wellies,” I said.
Ten minutes later, we headed up the mountain. Thankfully, the path was dry. Though I knew better than most that the rain could come up suddenly and turn the side of the mountain into a waterslide.