‘Given all that we’ve tested and found so far, the water temperature in the bath and that of the body suggest that Francesca Carter was killed approximately two hours ago, give or take half an hour each way.’
‘So around seven this evening?’
‘Give or take half an hour to an hour each way. Do you want to see the scene before her body is taken away?’
She nodded. She didn’t want to see any such scene. She wished there wasn’t one to see, but she owed it to her victim to see exactly what her attacker had done to her. A sinking feeling washed through her. Only a few hours ago, Francesca had been in the station telling them of the assault against her and Gina had failed in her duties. Samuel Avery had walked. If he’d done this, she knew she’d struggle to forgive herself. She felt a lump forming in her throat as her gaze fixed on the bathroom.
Bernard covered his mouth and beard again, then beckoned her to follow him.
Lights on, the starkness of the bathroom almost made her wince. The crime scene assistant sidestepped around her and out of the door, giving Gina and Bernard some room to step inside.
The young woman lay crumpled in the murky bath, the sole of her bent over foot wrinkled. Her large brown eyes had a glassy death stare where she’d finally rested on the curve of the bath. She looked more petite than Gina remembered. When Gina lay in the bath, she often had to throw a leg over the side as it never felt long enough. Francesca was almost cocooned by the tub. Her brown hair splayed all around her.
‘Any sign of flowers anywhere?’
‘No, none. We found her phone though. It has been catalogued and placed with the evidence.’ Bernard awkwardly waited by her side. ‘There was also a note found in the bath but the ink had ran all over the page. I couldn’t tell what was written on it.’
‘Thank you.’
The shower curtain had been pulled from the rings, some of which had pinged across the room, lying broken on the floor. Gina took a step back. Before she went, she needed to speak to Francesca’s husband. She needed to be able to read his expressions herself and she needed to get to the bottom of their relationship.
‘Keep me updated as you get results.’ What she really wanted to know was if something had been lodged in Francesca’s throat.
Bernard nodded and gave a muffled reply under his mask. ‘Will do. We’re going to be collecting evidence for most of the evening and through the night. I’ll keep you posted.’
Gina let out a sigh as she left the room and pulled her mask away from her face. A bead of sweat had trickled down the side of her temple and onto her ear. The panic that must have been coursing through Francesca’s body during her murder was already starting to haunt Gina. She swallowed and took a deep breath before heading downstairs to see what Charlie Carter had to say.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Charlie Carter sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a glass in front of him. The bottle of Irish whiskey stood open. He swigged the contents of the glass and refilled it.
‘I wish I’d stayed at home and waited for her. She should have come over to my mother’s and spent the evening with us. Something was wrong. I know it. She hadn’t seemed herself since Holly’s murder.’
Gina gently stepped into the room and sat at the table opposite him. ‘I think the murder of a close friend would do that to anyone.’
He shook his head and looked up with glassy blue eyes. ‘It wasn’t that. She wasn’t telling me something. I should have been there more but I just wanted to go back to work. I couldn’t be around all this grief and misery. It’s just not me and not many people understand that. I’m not a tea and sympathy kind of guy.’
His defined jaw and stubble made him look quite ruggedly handsome but his hair really smartened him up. The classic cut gave his dark hair a precise side-parted line. He was older than Francesca by about ten years, Gina could tell that much. She also knew what secret Francesca was holding onto, that of the sexual assault she’d reported, but now wasn’t the right time to upset her bereaved husband even more.
He slammed his fist onto the glass table, making all the fixings underneath shake. ‘I should have been here. I shouldn’t have gone to work. What kind of husband leaves his wife and goes off to work after something so horrible has happened? She must have died hating me.’ He swigged his drink down in one.
‘Would you like us to contact her parents?’
‘I’ve already called her father. Her mother died a few years ago. He should be here in a couple of hours. He’s absolutely devastated, as am I.’
Gina pulled out her pocket notebook. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened but we need to catch the person who did this to Francesca and we need your help. Would you be able to answer a few questions?’
A recurring twitch on his cheek caught her eye. She knew he was grinding his teeth behind his closed mouth.
‘Yes, of course I will. If you find out who did this, I’ll kill him myself.’ He snatched the bottle and poured another drink.
‘Can you please tell me where you were today?’
‘Am I a suspect?’ He tilted his head to the side and scratched his stubble.
‘These questions are just routine.’
He exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair. ‘I was at the office from nine in the morning. Then I was at court between ten and twelve. Back at the office about twelve thirty as that’s how long it takes me to get from the courts to my office. I left the office about five and came home. Fran wasn’t in. I left her a note in the kitchen.’ Gina remembered what Bernard had said about a note being found in the bath.
‘What did you write?’
His brow furrowed. ‘I can’t remember the exact wording. I just said I was at my mother’s fixing a curtain pole and I told her to come over so that we could all get a takeaway but she didn’t want to come.’
‘What is it you do for a living?’
‘I’m a solicitor. I practise family law, that’s why I was at court this morning and it’s also why I didn’t want any time off. My client was going through a difficult time with not having any contact with her child.’
‘Can you think of anyone who would want to harm Francesca? Any known enemies?’
He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt her. She was such a sweet person. I can’t imagine my life without her even though we have our petty squabbles. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
Gina made a few notes. He’d admitted to squabbling with his wife. She needed to know a little more. ‘What did you argue about?’
His hands dropped back to the table with a thud. ‘I didn’t hurt her. I was at my mother’s. I came back and found my wife in the bath, dead. Why is this relevant?’
For a moment, their gazes met, neither wanting to say the next word. Gina gave him a moment. Sometimes silence acted as a prompt.
‘If you must know, we argued about money, that’s all. I earn a substantial sum but Fran, I love her to bits—’ A moment of realisation hit him as he closed his eyes, trying to force away a potential tear. ‘I will always love her, you understand.’