Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller by Oliver Davies (read full novel txt) 📗

a little, on and off, but her eyes were reddened and swollen in a blotchy, puffy face, and I don’t think she was even aware of the state of her clothes or her hair. The sleek brown mane I’d seen in the photographs was a dull, matted tangle now. The woman we saw leaning against the wall staring sightlessly out of the far window was beyond being able to give a damn about anything as trivial as her appearance. She just seemed empty, hollowed out, desolate. I was given a brief, dismissive stare as Annie introduced me.

“Yes, they said another detective was going to come and talk to me today,” Vanessa said lifelessly and went to sit rigidly on the edge of the couch.

The Prices had booked themselves a large, family room, with good views of the harbour from both of the windows. Apart from the expected furnishings of a standard hotel room, it also had a desk, a small table with two chairs, and the sofa Vanessa was perching on. I pulled up a chair and placed myself a few feet away from her.

Shay took Annie MacLeod to one side and muttered a few sentences in a low voice. She nodded and went out. He placed my bag on the floor against the wall by the desk and went about setting his own laptop up and getting it ready for us.

“My apologies for being compelled to intrude on you like this, Mrs Price,” I said in a brisk, businesslike tone. “But from what you were able to tell my colleagues yesterday, finding the man you saw with your husband is of the greatest urgency. If he’s killed once, he could kill again, and I really don’t want to have to face anyone else in your position any time soon. Not if I can prevent it.”

Shay had been right. Her head snapped up again at that.

“You really think that might happen?” she asked. I caught her eyes and was pleased to see a spark of life in them.

“It’s certainly a real possibility,” I told her honestly, “and until we know more, we can’t risk ignoring that fact. Someone went to the trouble of posing as a crewmember, so that they could lure your husband into a secluded place, where nobody would witness what then occurred. Whether Mr Price was specifically targeted for a reason or picked at random remains to be seen. Not all killers behave in a way we would consider being predictable, or rational.”

A sense of purpose came into her expression then. If pulling herself together could help prevent another tragedy, then she could not help but see it as her moral duty to do so.

“What do you need from me, Inspector?” she asked. “How can I help?”

I gestured towards the desk. “We have prepared a catalogue of photographs of all the adult male passengers who were on your ferry. I’d like you to study their faces and tell us if any of them resemble the man you saw. We also have some footage from a couple of CCTV cameras that we’d like you to look at as well. Can you do that for us, Mrs Price?”

“Yes… yes, of course, I can.” Was that a slightly offended note in the voice there? A good sign, I thought, if it was. “I have a very clear image of that man’s face in my mind. After what happened, I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget it.” We both stood, and Shay pulled out the desk chair for her while I carried mine over to set beside it.

“Please try to ignore hair colour,” I advised. “Your man may have been wearing a wig to mislead anyone who happened to spot him. Focus on the faces.”

She nodded. “He had wide-set eyes, a long face and very prominent cheekbones. His jaw was narrow. Believe me, Inspector, I’ll know that face if I see it.” That matched what she’d told the officers she’d spoken with yesterday, a promising consistency. I reached across and tapped the left touchpad button to bring up the first image.

“No,” she said without hesitation.

“Here,” I suggested. “Just tap this button each time you’re ready to move to the next one. Beards and moustaches come and go too, so please pay special attention to the faces that have those. Some of these photos are a few years old.” Shay, standing at my shoulder, was ready to register which images caused her any pause. There were not many that did, and she soon dismissed each of them.

A light tapping at the door a few minutes later announced the return of constable Annie MacLeod, and I asked Vanessa to stop and wait as Shay went to open it. Annie had her hands full, carrying a laden tea tray. Shay relieved her of it and walked over to set it on the table. As Annie settled on the far edge of the sofa at a gesture from me, Shay came back to my side, and we continued.

Vanessa Price seemed unusually sure of herself as she worked through all the pictures. Less than ten minutes after we’d started, she’d reached the last of them. She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.

“If that was all the male passengers, then he wasn’t one of them. He must have come aboard without a ticket somehow.” Yes, and disappeared again afterwards. Shay glided away to the table, and I heard him pouring. Then he came to place a cup and saucer and a small plate of sweet biscuits at Vanessa’s elbow.

“I need you to drink that before we go on, Mrs Price,” he told her dispassionately. “You are showing signs of beginning to suffer from hypoglycaemia, which means that your blood sugar level must be far too low. You may soon become dizzy and lightheaded, and your vision may begin to blur. Confusion and the inability to concentrate will quickly follow, and you won’t be of any further help to us today if that happens.