shock.
We used candles
. Was it possible? Jeanette Pennycuick, née Grant. JG.
‘How sure are you of the initials?’ he asked.
‘Not a hundred per cent,’ Mackie said. ‘I’ve ordered an electron-microscope analysis, to try to differentiate between natural scratches and printed scratches. That should clear up any confusion.’
‘When do you expect the results?’
‘Soon.’
Gilchrist’s mind crackled. ‘You sure your boy got the initials right? They couldn’t be IG, or JC, or something like that, could they?’ He had no idea who IG or JC was, but he worried that the initials matching Pennycuick’s wife could be wrong.
‘I’ve studied them myself, Andy.’ He could almost hear Mackie shaking his head. ‘It’s JG. I’m almost positive.’
‘Almost?’
‘Near as damn it. But we’ll know soon enough.’
He thanked Mackie for calling and told him to keep in touch.
JG. So, there he had it. Or had he?
The initials could be those of the murdered woman. That was the simple explanation, of course. But the fact that they also matched Jeanette Pennycuick’s maiden name forced Gilchrist’s logic along a different path.
Perhaps the lighter had belonged to Jeanette but been borrowed by her then boyfriend, Geoffrey. Pennycuick visited St Andrews, and the dates fitted. And if the woman had been a student, like Jeanette, Pennycuick could have met her, perhaps even been intimate with her.
Geoffrey’s a serial shagger
, Betty’s voice reminded him. Could they have had a liaison that ended in violence, with Geoffrey murdering the woman, battering her to death with a bedside lamp to keep their affair secret from his wealthy wife-to-be?
Sex is always a grand motive
, Mackie’s voice confirmed.
Before you know where you are he has a fit and batters her to death
.
Was that what had happened?
And the fact that the cigarette lighter did not point to Pennycuick, but to his wife, did not deflate Gilchrist. Pennycuick was devious, of that Gilchrist was certain, the sort of man who might cover his trail at the expense of others. How simple would it have been to take his girlfriend’s lighter and place it in the grave? Or take any lighter and scratch his girlfriend’s initials on it? But again, and this was the troubling aspect, why even take the chance? Why risk pointing the finger of accusation so close to home? Why not use someone else’s initials?
But Gilchrist thought he knew the answer to that conundrum, too.
Geoffrey Pennycuick believed he was better than everyone else, and if he was ever challenged he would deny it with condescending arrogance. Pennycuick was the kind of man Gilchrist loathed, and he would just love to place him under arrest. And wouldn’t Betty be delighted if he added sexual harassment to the charge?
But doubt still tickled his mind. He dialled Nance’s mobile.
‘Do you have anyone on your list with the initials IG or JC?’ he asked her.
He listened to something brush the mouthpiece, a clump as the phone was laid down, then a rustling of sorts, like pages being flicked through.
Her voice returned. ‘Nope.’
Gilchrist instructed her to go through the university registers again and make a list of everyone with the initials JG with a three-year spread either side of thirty-five years ago.
‘Bloody hell, Andy.’
‘My thoughts, too.’
Creating such a list was all good and well, he thought, provided the killer had in fact been a student at St Andrews. They could check other records, of course, but all of a sudden, the task of identifying the victim from an ageing skeleton by filtering a pile of out-of-date information seemed too daunting to be conceivable. Were they even on the right track? Had the killer been a student back then? Or a visitor to St Andrews? Or someone who lived in St Andrews but had not gone to the university? Or who lived nearby? Gilchrist had nothing to confirm the killer was a student, male, female, old, young, local or visitor. Still, the initials on
We used candles
. Was it possible? Jeanette Pennycuick, née Grant. JG.
‘How sure are you of the initials?’ he asked.
‘Not a hundred per cent,’ Mackie said. ‘I’ve ordered an electron-microscope analysis, to try to differentiate between natural scratches and printed scratches. That should clear up any confusion.’
‘When do you expect the results?’
‘Soon.’
Gilchrist’s mind crackled. ‘You sure your boy got the initials right? They couldn’t be IG, or JC, or something like that, could they?’ He had no idea who IG or JC was, but he worried that the initials matching Pennycuick’s wife could be wrong.
‘I’ve studied them myself, Andy.’ He could almost hear Mackie shaking his head. ‘It’s JG. I’m almost positive.’
‘Almost?’
‘Near as damn it. But we’ll know soon enough.’
He thanked Mackie for calling and told him to keep in touch.
JG. So, there he had it. Or had he?
The initials could be those of the murdered woman. That was the simple explanation, of course. But the fact that they also matched Jeanette Pennycuick’s maiden name forced Gilchrist’s logic along a different path.
Perhaps the lighter had belonged to Jeanette but been borrowed by her then boyfriend, Geoffrey. Pennycuick visited St Andrews, and the dates fitted. And if the woman had been a student, like Jeanette, Pennycuick could have met her, perhaps even been intimate with her.
Geoffrey’s a serial shagger
, Betty’s voice reminded him. Could they have had a liaison that ended in violence, with Geoffrey murdering the woman, battering her to death with a bedside lamp to keep their affair secret from his wealthy wife-to-be?
Sex is always a grand motive
, Mackie’s voice confirmed.
Before you know where you are he has a fit and batters her to death
.
Was that what had happened?
And the fact that the cigarette lighter did not point to Pennycuick, but to his wife, did not deflate Gilchrist. Pennycuick was devious, of that Gilchrist was certain, the sort of man who might cover his trail at the expense of others. How simple would it have been to take his girlfriend’s lighter and place it in the grave? Or take any lighter and scratch his girlfriend’s initials on it? But again, and this was the troubling aspect, why even take the chance? Why risk pointing the finger of accusation so close to home? Why not use someone else’s initials?
But Gilchrist thought he knew the answer to that conundrum, too.
Geoffrey Pennycuick believed he was better than everyone else, and if he was ever challenged he would deny it with condescending arrogance. Pennycuick was the kind of man Gilchrist loathed, and he would just love to place him under arrest. And wouldn’t Betty be delighted if he added sexual harassment to the charge?
But doubt still tickled his mind. He dialled Nance’s mobile.
‘Do you have anyone on your list with the initials IG or JC?’ he asked her.
He listened to something brush the mouthpiece, a clump as the phone was laid down, then a rustling of sorts, like pages being flicked through.
Her voice returned. ‘Nope.’
Gilchrist instructed her to go through the university registers again and make a list of everyone with the initials JG with a three-year spread either side of thirty-five years ago.
‘Bloody hell, Andy.’
‘My thoughts, too.’
Creating such a list was all good and well, he thought, provided the killer had in fact been a student at St Andrews. They could check other records, of course, but all of a sudden, the task of identifying the victim from an ageing skeleton by filtering a pile of out-of-date information seemed too daunting to be conceivable. Were they even on the right track? Had the killer been a student back then? Or a visitor to St Andrews? Or someone who lived in St Andrews but had not gone to the university? Or who lived nearby? Gilchrist had nothing to confirm the killer was a student, male, female, old, young, local or visitor. Still, the initials on
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