Robert Thorogood - A Meditation On Murder

‘You’re right,’ Camille said, deadpan. ‘We’ve got a dead body over there that’s covered in knife wounds, so let’s concentrate on a tiny piece of metal we’ve found on the floor over here. In fact, I think you’re right! What if the carving knife we found by the body is a double bluff and the killer used this tiny drawing pin to stab the victim to death?’

Richard decided to ignore his subordinate entirely. Without another word, he went outside again, pulling his hankie as he went and mopping his brow. Really, he thought to himself, his life on Saint-Marie was blighted by bloody sunshine. His shirt collar chafed at his neck; the dark wool of his suit trousers stretched hot and tight across his thighs; and his suit jacket pressed heavy and scorching against his shoulders and back. Wearing a suit in the Caribbean was like living inside a bloody Corby trouser press. But what could he do? He had to wear a woollen suit. He was a Detective Inspector. And Detective Inspectors wore dark woollen suits, that’s just how it was.

Richard saw that an ambulance had arrived over by the main house and paramedics were getting out a gurney.

‘Very well, Camille,’ he said. ‘While I talk to our apparent murderer, I want you to take the remaining witnesses off. And I want you to get the paramedics to take samples of the witnesses’ blood and urine.’

‘You think the tea they were all drinking was maybe drugged?’

‘I don’t know, but that was a pretty frenzied attack, I’d be interested to know if anyone was under the influence of anything.’

Richard next turned to the youngest member of the team. ‘Fidel, I want you working the scene—but be sure to bag the drawing pin that’s loose on the floor by the far wall.’

Fidel looked at his boss. ‘You want me to bag a drawing pin, sir?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s on the floor by the far wall?’

‘That’s right,’ Richard said again.

Before Fidel could ask why his boss wanted a drawing pin bagged for analysis, Richard turned and started heading for Julia, who was still being guarded by Dwayne.

As he approached, Richard pulled a little notebook and silver retractable pencil from an inside pocket. He clicked the lead out and said, ‘Hello. My name’s Detective Inspector Richard Poole. I’m investigating the murder of the man we’ve just found in that paper and wood structure just there.’

Richard indicated the tea house and Julia nodded slowly. She understood. Richard looked at Dwayne and he shrugged as if to say that Richard was right, the witness was indeed this slow.

Richard was at his most gentle and coaxing as he tried to find out who the woman was and what had happened. In truth, Richard didn’t really have a ‘gentle’ or ‘coaxing’ side—his idea of doing either was to leave slightly longer pauses in between each of his questions—but he found his manner softened anyway as Julia was so naturally beautiful. It brought out Richard’s paternal side. Or that’s what he told himself. As she talked, he was able to notice how sparkling and blue her eyes were; and how her skin was bronzed by a golden tan; and how her blonde hair seemed to capture the Caribbean sunlight and radiate it back out in golden strands of light.

It turned out that the young woman’s name was Julia Higgins. She was twenty-three years old and had graduated from Bournemouth University the year before having completed a degree in alternative medicine. Since then, she’d been working and travelling, but at the beginning of the year she’d come out to The Retreat for a holiday. She’d loved the experience so much—and had got on so well with the owners, Rianka and Aslan—that she’d asked if she could stay on.

Julia was surprised when they said yes, but, apparently, her timing couldn’t have been better. Rianka and Aslan had been looking for help in the office for some time, so they offered Julia free lodging, a small wage—but, most importantly, free access to all of the treatments and therapies—and in return all Julia had to do was a few hours of secretarial support each day. It was an arrangement that had suited both parties and Julia had been happily working at The Retreat for the last six months.

As Julia told her story, Richard tried to work out what he found so puzzling about her. After a while, he realised what it was. Julia was clearly still numbed from the shock of what she’d done—of course she was—but she was also acting as though she was just as keen as Richard to identify the murderer. Which was odd, considering that she was the apparent murderer.

‘Then tell me,’ Richard finally asked, knowing it couldn’t be put off any longer, ‘did you kill the man we found in there?’

Julia blinked back tears as she looked deep into Richard’s eyes and said, ‘His name’s Aslan Kennedy. And I think so.’

‘You think so?’

Julia gulped. She then decided that maybe Richard was right to want this point clarified. ‘I know so.’

‘You know so?’

Julia nodded slowly, frowning.

‘Then can you tell me what happened?’

‘That’s what I don’t get. I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know how you killed him?’ Richard exchanged a quick glance with Dwayne. What was this?

Julia explained how she’d been looking forward to the Sunrise Healing, it was the only therapy Aslan still had time to lead himself.

‘So we all went into the Meditation Space,’ she continued.

‘Meditation Space?’ Richard asked.

Julia indicated the Japanese tea house. ‘It’s what Aslan and Rianka call that building there.’

‘And who went inside with you?’

Julia thought for a moment. ‘Well, Aslan … and four other hotel guests. Their names are Saskia, Paul, Ann and Ben.’

‘So there were only six people in total in there?’

‘That’s right,’ Julia said. ‘The five of us plus Aslan when he locked us inside.’

Richard caught Dwayne’s eye, both thinking the same thing.

‘I’m sorry,’ Richard said. ‘He locked you in?’

‘That’s right,’ Julia said, puzzled. ‘It’s a Yale lock. You know, one of those latches that closes itself. And Aslan locked it before we all sat down. He said he didn’t want us to be disturbed.’

‘I see,’ Richard said making a note in his book. ‘And then what happened?’

‘Well,’ Julia said, ‘we then all sat on our prayer mats and shared a cup of tea. It’s a way of relaxing before the session starts. And then we put on our eyemasks and headphones and lay down on our prayer mats. Although Aslan tends to stay sitting up, cross-legged. He’s far more advanced in reaching an autogenic state than the rest of us.’

‘I see,’ Richard said, not really seeing anything at all. ‘And what’s an autogenic state?’

‘It’s a state of perfect relaxation, and it’s what the Sunrise Healing’s all about. You lie down, put on some headphones and an eye mask and the idea is to let your mind wander as the sounds of nature and the rays of sunlight overwhelm you. It’s like being plugged into a recharging station. You wake up half an hour later full of energy. But this time, the next thing I knew, I was standing over Aslan’s body holding a knife … I killed him.’

As Julia was saying this, she lifted her bloodied hand and looked at it as if she couldn’t understand how it was attached to her body.

Richard noticed that Julia was holding up her left hand.

‘Tell me,’ he said, as though it wasn’t of much consequence, ‘are you left-handed?’

‘That’s right,’ Julia said, puzzled by the question. ‘Why?’

Richard smiled blandly. ‘No reason.’

‘It was like an out of body experience. I could see myself with the knife … but if I’m honest, I don’t actually remember the moment. You know … I was just standing there, the knife in my hand. And that poor man was at my feet … not moving …!’