The Elemental (Blair Dubh Trilogy #1) (14 page)

“
So, can we be sure it’s her?” said Gary.

“
Good point,” replied Craig. “That’s the crucifix she always wore,” he said, indicating the metal that had fused with the charred skin of her chest. Tentatively he knelt beside the body for a closer look, something didn’t seem right. “She’s fallen face up. Her hands are out by her sides.”

“
She’s in the crucifixion pose,” whispered Steve.

Craig studied the hands, the fingers of which were curled up in agony, the nails blackened tips. As he watched, one of them peeled from her finger and fluttered into the grate and he stifled a shudder.
“There’s nothing forcing her into the fire, she wasn’t bound. Maybe she was knocked out and pushed in? But I can’t check for a head injury without moving her first.”

“
Please don’t do that,” whispered Steve.

“
Is there any blood on the floor?”

They scanned the dark dirty carpet.
“Doesn’t look to be,” replied Gary.

As Craig leaned closer, trying not to inhale, the corpse
’s upper set of false teeth dropped, clattering noisily onto the lower set and Craig leapt back while Gary and Steve both squealed and scuttled to the door.

“
Well I think that confirms the victim is an elderly person,” said Craig, straightening up and backing away. “It must be Claire.”

“
Do we have to move her?”

Craig was reluctant to move a burnt corpse in a storm at one o
’clock in the morning. “No, not tonight. Let’s lock-up then get down to the pub. I want to speak to Martin before he goes home and we need to interview every member of the fire crew.”

They covered the body with a stained sheet they found upstairs and locked the house up tight, Craig pocketing the keys. He wasn
’t worried about the killer breaking back in to erase evidence, he was pretty sure he’d done that already but he had to stick to the book as much as possible. He felt guilty about leaving Claire lying in the grate but he wasn’t sure whether he should move her or not. He’d call the DI and pray he could get through to her.

CHAPTER 9

Gordon was behind the bar in his dressing gown and slippers serving the bedraggled volunteer fire-fighters pints, all except Adam, who was sat in the corner looking distinctly ill. Craig learnt from Gordon that he was the one who’d taken the knock to the head.

Martin finished tending to him and approached Craig.
“I suppose you’ll want to talk to me?”

“
Aye I do. Come through,” he said.

Martin followed him through to the room that was the scene of Freya
’s return. They took a table, cradling a whisky each.

“
How are you holding up?” Craig asked him sympathetically.

“
Not so bad.” He took a sip of whisky, hand shaking slightly. “Being a doctor I didn’t think I was at all squeamish but that put the fear into me. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He swallowed hard and took another gulp of whisky. “I don’t know how you cope in your job.”

“
You just focus on your work and get on with it. I need you to tell me how you found her.”

“
Yes of course,” he said, attempting to pull himself together. “I went to see Claire earlier today at about three o’clock. I can’t get to my practice so I thought I’d check on her. I suppose I can tell you now seeing how she’s…” His hand trembled and he threw the contents of the glass down his throat before pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his lips. “Well, Claire suffered from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and needed home oxygen treatment at night. She was running low and I keep a spare tank at my house in case anyone runs out during one of these storms. I said I’d bring it up to her tonight.”

“
Why so late?”

“
She puts it on at bedtime but it can be a struggle for her. I wanted to make sure she did it properly.” He stared glumly into his drink. “She was a very difficult woman but I was fond of her in a strange sort of way. You have to respect her sheer bloody determination to remain independent.”

“
I spoke to her earlier today. She did seem a bit senile.”

“
She was growing increasingly erratic. I did advise her many times to go into a home but she refused.”

“
She said Logan had been visiting her.”

“
She told me the same thing a number of times, it was one reason I brought in Social Services. I have to admit it made me very nervous.”

“
You don’t really think he’s back from the dead?” smiled Craig.

Martin took another gulp of whisky.
“God I hope not.” He dabbed at his lips again and forced a smile. “No, that would be silly and childish.”

They couldn
’t help but glance around the room uneasily.

“
So you were a regular visitor at Claire’s house?” said Craig.

“
I was.”

A theory occurred to him.
“Did she have any petrol on the premises?”

Martin frowned.
“No, not that I’m aware of. There was some old machinery out back but it was junk. I can’t see her going out there with a jerry can and filling it up, she wouldn’t have had the strength. She didn’t have a car either.”

Craig wondered if his own visit had disturbed Claire to the extent that she decided to burn what evidence there was left indicating Logan
’s guilt. What if it went wrong and she accidentally set herself on fire? He’d have to think about that.

“
So, when you arrived at the Parish House did you see anyone?”

“
No, but the weather’s so wild they might have walked right past me and I wouldn’t have noticed. I parked outside the house, walked to the door and rang the bell. I smelled the burning immediately so I went in and found her in the fireplace, like that,” he rasped.

“
Was the door unlocked?”

“
Yes, which wasn’t like her. Everyone in Blair Dubh leaves their doors unlocked, at least they used to, but Claire never did. She always kept it locked, even when Alexander was alive. For such a devout woman she had a surprising lack of trust in the human race.”

“
Did you notice anything on the body that might help us catch who did this?”

He turned pale at the thought of the corpse.
“Sorry, no. After I ascertained she was dead, which didn’t take long, I phoned the fire brigade.”

“
Was she still on fire at that time?”

“
No, she was just sort of smouldering, but the study was going great guns.” He coughed nervously. “I have to ask, I’ve found two bodies. Am I a suspect?”

“
Should you be?”

“
No but I thought it might not look good.”

“
I have to say Martin, it doesn’t,” he replied and the doctor looked horrified.

“
Only pulling your leg Martin, I don’t think you’re a killer.” But it was a lie. He had to consider everyone a suspect. He couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by sentiment or friendship. Martin looked so stricken Craig took pity on him and decided to let him go home.

“
One more thing before I go,” said Martin. “I spoke to my Practice Manager who said there’d been several deaths in the village in the past fifteen years but there was nothing suspicious about any of them. All were old or infirm, apart from Simon Faulks. But unless you think the killer used a double decker bus as a murder weapon I think we can rule him out. To be a hundred percent certain about the others you’d have to get exhumation orders…”

“
That won’t be necessary, at least not yet. It was just a hunch.”

Martin hesitated at the door.
“It’s at times like this I wish the police had the power to beat people to a pulp. What that animal did to that helpless old lady was inhuman.” Then he left, a little unsteady on his feet after the whisky.

After talking to the firemen, who couldn
’t tell him anything he didn’t already know, Craig told everyone in the pub that he was organising a meeting in the Community Centre the next evening. Panic was spreading through the village and he wanted to stop it before the rot set in. He then sent Steve and Gary back to Freya’s cottage for some rest then called the DI, who wasn’t impressed about being woken at ridiculous o’clock in the morning and even less impressed by what he had to tell her. Then he too went home to try and get some sleep for what little remained of the night.

When he got back Nora and Freya were still up, sat at the kitchen table drinking hot chocolate, looking anxious.

“Well?” demanded Nora the moment he entered the room.

“
Claire’s dead. She was burnt to death,” he said wearily, still able to smell her.

“
Oh my God,” she breathed, closing her eyes and offering up a silent prayer.

“
That confirms it. It’s happening again,” said Freya.

Craig studied her carefully. She looked on edge and he noticed her hands were shaking beneath the table.

“I think we could all do with a drink,” said Nora, getting to her feet and reaching for the bottle of whisky sat on the worktop.

“
None for me thanks,” said Freya quickly.

Craig recalled James
’s words. “Me neither, I’ll just have a hot chocolate. But first, I need a shower.”

He paused at the bottom of the stairs as Freya
’s boots caught his eye, which were covered in mud and bits of grass. He touched them, feeling the mud was still soft and damp. They’d been worn only very recently. No, he couldn’t believe she had anything to do with Claire’s death but she had looked very nervous.

After secreting the roses in his sock drawer he took a shower, still able to smell Claire, he wasn
’t sure the stench would ever go. He pulled on a clean jumper and jogging bottoms, tossed his uniform straight into the wash basket then headed back downstairs to find his hot chocolate waiting for him.

“
Want anything to eat?” said Nora.

He grimaced at the thought of anything cooking.
“No thanks,” he replied, feeling incredibly miserable and such a failure. If he’d worked harder would Claire still be alive?

“
It’s not your fault,” said Nora in response to his thoughts. “You couldn’t have stopped this.”

He just shrugged, too spent to argue

“We’ve had water and fire,” said Freya solemnly. “If he’s following Logan’s pattern, which he seems to be, it’ll be air next.”

“
And I’ve not a bloody clue who the next victim is or who the killer is. God I’m crap at this,” said Craig.

“
No you’re not, you’re doing a good job, especially under the circumstances. Don’t start thinking like that, the whole village needs you,” said Nora.

“
At least I know for sure it is someone in the village because no one can get in or out.” Craig looked at Freya, who was so nervous he could feel it. “Well I’m off to bed to try and grab a few hours before I have to get up again.”

“
What time do you want me to wake you?” said Nora.

“
Half six,” he replied, yawning and stretching.

“
I think I’ll go up too now I know I can’t do anything,” said Freya before scurrying upstairs to her room.

“
This has got her really scared,” Nora told her son.

Craig just nodded.
“Are you going back to bed?”

“
No, I won’t sleep now. I might have a little nap on the couch but that’ll be it. I’ll use the time to get some chores done.”

“
Just as long as you don’t start vacuuming,” said Craig with another yawn before heading up to bed himself. Before he climbed the stairs he paused to pick up Freya’s muddy boots and took them up with him. He went straight into her room without knocking, hoping to catch her in a suspicious act, but he found her half in half out of bed, those bare legs on display and again he struggled not to look at them.

“
What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

He closed the door and held up the boots.
“These.”

“
What about them?”

“
They’re damp and covered in grass. You’ve been out tonight.”

“
No I haven’t.”

“
Don’t lie to me Freya. You’re shaking like a leaf. Why did you go out and when?”

“
You think I killed Claire?” she said with disbelief.

“
I’m not accusing you. Right now all I want to know is why you were sneaking about in the middle of the night. Did you go up to the Parish House?”

“
No.”

“
Then what were you doing?”

She got to her feet, planted her hands on her hips and sighed.
“If you must know I wanted a drink. Actually I was craving one. I went downstairs and picked up the bottle of whisky your mum keeps in the kitchen. I even removed the cap, I was so tempted but I didn’t drink it. I went out for a walk in the rain, physical exercise is the only way I can cope when the craving’s really bad. When I came back I felt a bit better. Happy now?”

“
What time was this?”

“
About an hour before Martin knocked on the door.”

“
Alright,” he sighed. “I’m sorry Freya but I had to ask.”

She muttered something derogatory about police in general and folded her arms across her chest.

“I’ll ignore that. Did you see anyone on your walk?”

“
No, I could barely see a foot in front of me. I was keeping my head down against the weather.”

“
From now on no more wandering off on your own, even during the day. While you were out walking a murderer was creeping about, anything could have happened.”

“
So you don’t think I did it?”

The lights dimmed, threatening to go out altogether and they both wondered if the entire situation was going to be made even worse. All he could see was her vague outline, hear her steady breathing. He was alone in the dark with either a phenomenal woman or a murderess. As his eyes began to adjust to the gloom she became more visible, slowly revealed to him but what was he seeing? The good or the bad?

The lights burst back into life, to their mutual relief. Craig was glad for the interruption, it gave him a moment to ponder his response to Freya’s question.

“
No I don’t think you did it,” he said, not feeling the conviction of his words. He couldn’t afford to ignore this development, he had to remain objective. “But the storm could break any time and when the DI arrives there’s nothing to stop
her
suspecting you. Don’t open yourself up to trouble like that again.”

She nodded, tears filling her eyes and she slumped onto the bed.
“I’m sorry but you’ve no idea how hard it is when the craving takes hold. I can’t give in to it, I might die if I do.”