‘Saturday morning, first thing. I went to the local police station, but they said I had to wait forty-eight hours unless there were special circumstances. They took my details and said to return on Monday if she hadn’t turned up, which I did.’ Celeste’s voice turned bitter. ‘I thought I was being silly. Maybe she met a man and stayed out.’
Freya looked up from her notes. ‘Did Emma have any regular routines? Places she went, people she met?’
‘She was very structured. She worked Monday to Friday in Dunfermline, went to the gym on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. We usually did our grocery shopping together on Thursday nights.’
‘Where did you shop?’
‘Asda in Dunfermline. It was convenient – good parking, stayed open late and Emma had a loyalty card there, so we got points for petrol.’
Brodie felt something click into place. ‘You shopped there this past Thursday?’
‘Yes, just after Emma got back from work. We needed basics – milk, bread and something for dinner. We probably spent forty minutes there, maybe an hour including the drive.’
‘Do you remember what time this was?’
‘We got there around seven thirty, I think. Had a quick shop, then came home and made pasta.’ Celeste frowned. ‘Why do you ask? Is it relevant?’
‘We’re just trying to establish Emma’s movements in her final days,’ Brodie said carefully. ‘Did either of you notice anything unusual during that shopping trip? Anyone watching you, following you, anything that seemed odd?’
‘Not that I remember. It was just a normal shop. Emma used the self-checkout while I got petrol, then we drove home.’ Celeste paused. ‘There was nothing unusual about it at all.’
Freya continued with the questioning. ‘Can you tell us about Emma’s family? People we should notify about her death? We’re trying to find a next of kin.’
Celeste’s expression grew even sadder. ‘There isn’t anyone, really. Emma’s parents were killed in a car crash when she was fifteen. A drunk driver hit them head-on coming home from a dinner party.’
‘No siblings? Grandparents?’
‘No siblings. Her grandparents had all died when she was young. Her uncle brought her up after the accident.’ Celeste reached for another tissue. ‘He was wonderful to her, really stepped up when she needed someone most.’
‘Is he still alive? We’ll need to inform him.’
‘No, he died about four years ago. Heart attack, very sudden. Emma was devastated – he was the only family she had left. Except for a cousin with whom she had no contact.’ Celeste’s voice grew warm with memory. ‘She absolutely adored him. Said he saved her life after her parents died.’
Brodie looked up from his notes. ‘What was her uncle’s name?’
‘Mark Finlay. Dr Mark Finlay. He was a biochemist at Ninewells Hospital in Dundee.’
The room seemed to go very quiet. Brodie exchanged a glance with Freya, who had stopped writing and was staring at her notebook.
‘Dr Mark Finlay,’ Brodie repeated slowly. ‘You’re certain about that?’
‘Of course I’m certain. Emma always talked about him, especially around the anniversary of his death. She visited his grave every year. He was buried near his sister, Emma’s mum.’ Celeste looked between them, clearly sensing that something significant had been said. ‘Why? Do you know something about Uncle Mark?’
Brodie chose his words carefully. ‘His name has come up in connection with our investigation. Can you tell us more about Emma’s relationship with him?’
‘He was everything to her after her parents died. Took her in, helped her through school, supported her through university. Emma said he was the kindest, most intelligent man she’d ever known.’ Celeste’s voice carried genuine affection. ‘She was studying law partly because he’d encouraged her to think about helping people who couldn’t help themselves.’
‘Did she ever mention him being involved in any police investigations? Any connection to The Embalmer case?’
Celeste shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. As far as I know, he was a scientist, not involved in criminal matters. Though…’ She paused, thinking.
‘What?’
‘Emma did say that he had been under a lot of stress before he died. Working too hard, not sleeping well. She felt guiltyabout it afterwards, thought maybe she should have done more to help him.’
‘Did she say what was causing the stress?’
‘Work pressures, I think – research deadlines, funding issues, the usual academic problems. Emma visited him a few weeks before he died, and she said he seemed distracted, preoccupied with something. But he wouldn’t talk about it.’
