Ken McClure - Eye of the raven

It took Steven nearly forty-five minutes to cross town in the morning rush hour. He arrived at Fettes Police Headquarters at nearly a quarter past nine to find McClintock in conversation with another officer. Both men stopped talking as he came into view and McClintock adopted a wan smile. ‘Thought you’d changed your mind,’ he said, looking at his watch.

‘ Traffic,’ said Steven. ‘All ready to go?’

McClintock moved uneasily on his feet and cleared his throat unnecessarily before saying, ‘Actually, Chief Superintendent Santini would like a word with you before we go over to the lab.’

‘ Oh yes?’ said Steven, making it sound like an accusation.

‘ I had to tell him you were here and what was going on,’ said McClintock.

‘ No problem,’ said Steven. ‘Where do I find him?’

McClintock led the way to Santini’s office and affected a friendly grin as he waited for a response to his knock on the door.

‘ Come.’

‘ Dr Dunbar, sir,’ said McClintock ushering Steven inside and then leaving.

Santini, a rotund figure in his fifties with a tanned complexion and sleek silvery hair, sat back in his chair and made a steeple with his fingers. He didn’t smile or make any move to shake hands. ‘I understand you have an interest in the Julie Summers case, Doctor’ he said.

‘ I have an interest in Hector Combe’s confession to her murder,’ answered Steven. ‘But then I’m sure you know that already.’ He made a gesture towards the door behind him.

‘ Always nice to know what’s going on in one’s own backyard, Doctor, don’t you think?’

‘ Wherever possible,’ agreed Steven.

‘ I called Sci-Med. I’ve just spoken to John Macmillan. He tells me that there are no official plans to review the Summers case.’

‘ That’s my understanding too,’ agreed Steven.

This was not what Santini expected to hear. ‘So you are here in an

… unofficial capacity?’ he asked.

‘ You could say.’

‘ I do say,’ snapped Santini. ‘David Little was convicted on cast iron evidence, which no one has ever disputed. Hector Combe could not have carried out the crime. He just wanted to create trouble for the police and you — in your unofficial capacity — seem to be doing your level best to assist him in that objective.’

‘ Far from it,’ retorted Steven. ‘I agree with everything you say. I just want to take a look at the forensic evidence that wasn’t used in the trial so that I can be sure in my own mind about something.’

‘ What?’ Santini demanded. He then did a fair impression of a cat watching a bird without blinking, Steven thought.

‘Three of Julie Summers’ fingers were broken by her assailant during the struggle. I want to know what the lab found under her nails.’

‘ Maybe nothing,’ said Santini.

‘ If they were broken when she put up a struggle, as your own pathologist seemed to suggest at the time, there’s a good chance that something would have been recovered — skin, hair, blood, fibres?’

‘ The DNA evidence on its own was irrefutable,’ said Santini. ‘A one hundred percent match. There was no call for anything else.’

‘ I know,’ said Steven. ‘But I’d feel happier to see a piece of corroborating evidence. It would also prove beyond doubt that Hector Combe’s assertion that Julie Summers scratched his face was nonsense.’

‘ Of course it was nonsense,’ snapped Santini.

‘ Then corroborating evidence should make everyone happy,’ said Steven calmly.

‘ But it shouldn’t be necessary!’ exclaimed Santini. ‘What in God’s name don’t you accept about the evidence against David Little?’

‘ Nothing,’ replied Steven. ‘It seems irrefutable.’

‘ But you still want more?’

‘ I just want to take a look at the forensic samples taken at the time and then I’ll be on my way.’

Santini looked down at his desk top for so long that Steven wondered if he had a crystal ball installed in it. Eventually he said quietly, ‘That may not be possible.’

‘ I’m sorry?’ said Steven.

‘ There aren’t any samples,’ said Santini quietly. ‘Ronald Lee, the forensic pathologist at the time, screwed up. The samples were lost.’

‘ Lost?’ exclaimed Steven.

‘ Destroyed, incinerated, thrown out with the discards, something like that. I’m not sure of the exact details.’

‘ How long have you known this?’ asked Steven.

‘ Not long, I assure you. I called the head of the forensics lab when DI McClintock told me yesterday why you were here and he went into the lab last night to look out the samples. I just wanted to smooth the way so that you could see what you wanted to see and then be on your way without anyone getting wind of what you were up to. He called me just after eleven last night and broke the news.’

‘ But this suggests that the lab must have kept this a secret at the time,’ said Steven.

Santini nodded and said, ‘Presumably Superintendent Chisholm and Inspector Currie were told and they informed the Procurator Fiscal’s Office of the situation.’

‘ And then they all colluded in one great big cover-up,’ said Steven.

‘ It was a very difficult time for the force,’ began Santini. ‘The press were on our backs and the public were baying for an arrest. The investigating team had screwed up big time over the Mulvey boy and were being pilloried left, right and centre for perceived incompetence. I’m sure it was a case of the force simply not being able to afford another public scandal over a lab mix-up. It’s not as if anyone falsified evidence.’

‘ They just lost it,’ said Steven.

Santini swallowed and continued. ‘They did have a DNA match and it was perfect. The Fiscal obviously decided that a conviction could be obtained using that alone and he went ahead with the trial. He was proved right.’

Steven said quietly. ‘I take it that this is the real reason Ronald Lee got his marching orders with the others?’

Santini leaned forward and said, ‘Yes.’

Steven shook his head as he thought about it.

Santini said, ‘I’m asking you as a colleague to let sleeping dogs lie. Hector Combe could not have committed that crime. We got the right man. You know that.’

Steven nodded.

‘ Well?’

‘ Even if the samples were discarded, I presume they were logged at the scene of crime?’ said Steven.

‘ I suppose so.’

‘ I’d like to see the log.’

Santini took a deep breath as if trying to keep his equilibrium and exhaled slowly. ‘I’ll ask,’ he said. ‘Anything else?’

‘ I’d also like to see the medical officer’s report on David Little when he was arrested.’

‘ We should have that here. I’ll have to call the lab about the log. If they have it shall I ask it be sent over or will you want to go over yourself?’

‘ I’ll go over,’ said Steven.

‘ And then?’ asked Santini.

‘ If I don’t find anything untoward I’ll call it a day.’

‘ Good,’ said Santini. ‘The Julie Summers file can then go back to gathering dust and Hector Combe can continue to rot in hell.’

McClintock looked sheepish when Steven arrived back in his office. ‘I just found out myself a few minutes before you got here,’ he said. ‘What happens now?’

‘ Your governor is asking the lab if they still have the scene of crime log of the samples that Lee’s team took. If they have, I want to see it. I said I’d go over.’

‘ I’ll take you,’ said McClintock.

‘ I’ve also asked to see the medical officer’s report on Little when he was arrested.’

‘ He’s just put my sergeant on to that. Coffee while we wait?’