Brodie never asked where she got it from.
They shook hands in the hospital lobby, and Brodie walked back to his car through the sprawling car park. The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows between the vehicles, and he found himself checking over his shoulder more than once. If Mark Finlay had been killed for getting too close to the truth, then Brodie might be walking the same dangerous path.
As he started the engine, his phone buzzed with a text from Art:
Post-mortem scheduled for tomorrow morning. Holmes asked if you’ll be attending.
Brodie stared at the message for a moment. He wanted to speak to the victim’s flatmate.
Get Freya to meet me at the house the victim shared with her flatmate. Call ahead. Make sure she’s there. Let me know.
Art sent a thumbs up.
13
Freya was waiting for him in her car and got out when Brodie parked beside her.
‘What do we know about the flatmate, sir?’ Freya asked as she approached him.
‘Celeste Montgomery, twenty-nine, works as an accountant with a firm in the New Town,’ Brodie replied, checking his notes. ‘She’s the one who reported Emma Richardson missing when she didn’t come home on Friday night.’
‘How long had they been living together?’
‘About eighteen months, according to the initial report.’
The flat was in a modern development overlooking the Forth, one of those purpose-built complexes that had sprung up along the Fife coast to attract young professionals who worked in Edinburgh but preferred seaside living. Brodie pressed the intercom button markedMontgomery/Richardsonand waited.
‘Yes?’ The voice was cautious, with the kind of wariness from three days of dealing with police questions and media attention.
‘Ms Montgomery? DCI Brodie and DS Munro.’
The door buzzed open, and they climbed two stairs to alanding where a woman was waiting for them. Celeste Montgomery was tall and slim, with short auburn hair and the pale complexion of someone who’d been crying recently. She wore a black sweater and jeans, practical clothes that suggested she’d taken time off work.
‘Chief Inspector Brodie? Please, come in.’
The flat was tastefully furnished in the kind of neutral colours which Brodie thought seemed to appeal to professional women in their twenties. The living room had large windows that looked out over the Forth towards Edinburgh, and everything was clean and organised, indicating two people who took pride in their living space.
‘Thank you for seeing us,’ Brodie said as they settled onto a cream-coloured sofa. ‘I know this is a difficult time.’
‘I still can’t believe she’s gone.’ Celeste’s voice was steady, but her hands shook slightly as she poured tea from a pot that looked like it had been sitting cold for some time. ‘Emma was… she was the most careful person I knew. She always checked that the doors were locked and told people where she was going. It doesn’t make sense that something like this could happen to her.’
Freya took out her notebook. ‘Can you tell us about Friday evening? When did you last see Emma?’
‘She left for work that morning around eight thirty, same as always. She was a solicitor with Henderson & Associates in Dunfermline – corporate law, nothing dangerous or controversial. We’d made plans to meet some friends at The Dome around nine, so I expected her home by seven to get ready.’
‘What happened when she didn’t return?’
Celeste’s composure wavered slightly. ‘I waited until half past seven, then started calling her mobile. It went straight to voicemail.Maybe she’d been held up at work – it happened sometimes when they had a big deal closing.’
‘Did you contact her office?’
‘I called her boss, Mr Henderson, around six thirty. He said Emma had left around six at her usual time and seemed perfectly normal. Maybe a bit tired, but nothing unusual.’ Celeste reached for a tissue. ‘That’s when I started to worry. Emma was never late without calling.’
Freya made notes as she spoke. ‘What did you do next?’
‘I called our friends, cancelled our plans, then spent the rest of the evening calling everyone we knew. Nobody had heard from her. I must have called her mobile fifty times, but it just went to voicemail.’
‘When did you report her missing?’
