Helen Fields - Perfect Death

‘Don’t do that,’ Ava said.

‘Do what? You asked me out for dinner. I’m eating.’

‘Change the subject,’ Ava said. ‘I know how hard this has been for you. She didn’t explain any more than that? Why hasn’t she responded to you since you were acquitted? All those times you tried to get in touch. She must have given some sort of explanation.’

‘Not really. She kept saying it was hard for her, that she needed more time, which is bizarre in the circumstances,’ Callanach said, refilling his own glass before motioning to the waitress for another bottle.

‘That’s it?’ Ava asked. ‘After all this time, why reappear now?’ She took the new bottle from the waitress’ hands and refilled both glasses, draining hers immediately.

‘She said she wanted to explain, then she didn’t. Not in a way that made sense. Can we change the subject now, please? I liked it better when I was annoying you,’ Callanach said.

‘No, we can’t. You should talk to her again. Get to the bottom of it. If you leave it like this it’ll haunt you,’ Ava said.

‘I’m not sure there’s anything left to say. She’s at the Radisson until tomorrow, then I guess she’s going back to Monaco. It took me a long time to get used to the fact that she’d given up on me. I’m not sure I can turn back the clock.’

‘Not sure you can or not sure you want to?’ Ava asked, piling more tiny parcels of spicy prawns onto her plate. ‘Take it from me, trying to repair years of misunderstandings when you’re about to lose someone you love is a disaster. I should know – I couldn’t have made worse decisions when my mum was dying. I’d like to stop you from making similar mistakes.’

‘I’d like to think I’m able to stay rational, even when emotions are involved,’ Callanach said. ‘And I agree, you did make some terrible misjudgements in the past.’

‘Sod off, then. I’ve tried to help. If you’re just going to be rude, I’m going to eat in silence until I burst. This is good champagne.’ Ava refilled her glass again.

‘You know you’ve drunk a bottle of champagne in less than an hour, right?’

‘Save the detective skills for solving cases. Right, all the food’s gone and the alcohol supply is diminishing. I am going to the ladies’ room while you settle the bill then we’ll move this party along.’ Ava stood up, threw her napkin onto her plate and walked off clutching her mobile.

Ten minutes later a cab pulled up outside the restaurant. Ava sighed.

‘You again?’ she asked, looking through the driver’s window.

‘Did you have a nice meal? Only it didn’t take very long,’ the cabbie said.

Ava ignored him. ‘The booking office told you where we’re headed, I take it?’

‘Aye, gave me all the details. I was surprised to be seeing you both again so soon. I thought you’d be taking your time with the meal and everything. It’s a nice place, that. Did you think about what I said?’ He grinned at Callanach.

‘I’ll tip you again but only if you agree not to talk for the remainder of the journey,’ Ava said.

‘Fair enough,’ the driver agreed. ‘It’ll only be five minutes. Traffic’s light tonight.’

* * *

The taxi pulled up where the High Street met South Bridge, while Ava and Callanach were busy talking police funding.

‘This isn’t where I live,’ Callanach said.

‘I’m aware of that. It’s where your mother’s staying,’ Ava replied.

‘Not happening,’ Callanach replied calmly but firmly. ‘But I can walk home from here, so this’ll do.’ He got out, holding the door for Ava. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s no quick solution. If the problem between my mother and me ever resolves itself, it’s going to take more than a quick chat. You can’t fix everything.’

‘I need to fix something,’ she said. ‘The Chief didn’t come and talk to me about whatever was going on with him. My own mother kept her symptoms from me for months, even though she was terminally ill. I keep thinking that maybe if we’d been closer, if I’d been a better daughter, she’d have confided in me. Maybe they could have treated the cancer before it was too late.’

‘You weren’t at fault, and this isn’t the same thing. Let me call you another cab. It’s too far for you to walk to your place from here.’

‘I’m cold,’ Ava said. ‘And I need a proper drink. At least let me buy you a single malt. The bar in here is warm and comfortable. It won’t kill you to walk through the door. I’m not ready to go home yet.’

Callanach wondered if that had been the plan all along, before she’d even walked into his office and invited him to dinner. Ava was rarely taken unawares, her brain usually ten steps ahead of everyone else’s. That was what made her such an impressive police officer. Even so, she was intruding on a deeply personal situation, but he wasn’t ready for the emptiness of his apartment yet either. His mother had never been one for bars, rarely drinking unless they were dining with friends. He wasn’t even sure she was still at the hotel. Chances were that she’d left town early.

‘One drink,’ he said. ‘Then I’m getting you home.’

‘Deal,’ Ava said, walking ahead of him through reception and turning right into the hotel bar.

They sat on stools. It was busy but not packed, the bulk of casual diners already finishing dessert or drinking coffee, their conversation a friendly hum in the background.

‘Two Laphroaigs please,’ Ava directed the barman. ‘No spoiling it with water or ice.’

‘You sure you wouldn’t prefer it straight from the bottle?’ Callanach asked.

‘You can lecture me about French wine when we’re in France. Never lecture a Scot about whisky. It’s apt to end up with a trip to get stitches.’

‘Luc?’ a voice said softly from behind them.

Callanach stared at Ava.

‘It’s no good looking daggers at me,’ Ava said. ‘It’s not as if you weren’t aware I never take no for an answer.’

‘You had no right.’ He leaned across to whisper in her ear.

‘I accept that,’ Ava said. ‘I also know that if you really hadn’t wanted to stand any chance of seeing your mother you wouldn’t have walked into this hotel with me. So say goodbye or hear her out, whichever suits you best. Just make a decision.’ She turned around. ‘Madame Callanach,’ she held out her hand, ‘I’m Ava Turner, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’ll leave you to it. I suspect I’ve already done more than enough.’

‘You certainly have,’ Callanach replied.

Ava smiled, picked up her glass and tossed back the Laphroaig. ‘Take it easy,’ she told Callanach. ‘Nice to have met you,’ she said to Véronique, slipping her coat back on before exiting.

‘I see. Your colleague didn’t tell you she’d phoned me,’ Véronique said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to trick you into seeing me.’

‘Well, I’m here now,’ Callanach said. ‘So if there’s something else you wanted to say, now would be the time.’

‘Shall we go up to my room? It’s quieter there. I’m not really sure this is the place …’

‘I’m leaving in a couple of minutes. You may not want to waste time travelling between floors. Here is fine. There’s a table by the window.’ He picked up his drink and walked away from the bar, silently cursing Ava’s inability to restrict her meddling. They sat down. ‘What was it you wanted to say?’

His mother stared out of the window. ‘I don’t know how to begin,’ she said. ‘I want to repair the damage I’ve done. I want my son back.’

‘Is there something you need to say that I haven’t already heard?’ Callanach asked. ‘Because I’m not here to repeat the conversation we had at my flat. You said you needed more time and I’m afraid it’s run out.’ He pushed his drink away across the table.