Tragic Death of Brilliant Student

The body of Lauren Taylor, 21, was found late last night outside her flat near Great Western Road in Glasgow’s West End. The Glasgow University student is believed to have fallen to her death.

A dog walker discovered Lauren’s body and called an ambulance. Paramedics tried to resuscitate Lauren but she was pronounced dead at the scene. Lauren was a popular member of the university and was studying English Literature. She had also enrolled in the exchange programme at the university and had been scheduled to spend a year at an American university.

Lauren’s family are devastated by the news and have asked for their privacy to be respected at this time.

A spokesperson for Glasgow University issued this statement: ‘We are all greatly saddened by this news. Our thoughts go to Lauren’s family at this tragic time. They are in our prayers.’

Friends have also opened a condolence page for Lauren on Facebook.

But it was the photograph that depressed Wheeler. She stared at it over her coffee cup. The doe eyes, the long hair. The picture had been taken recently; she looked no different from when Wheeler had seen her in the pub with Jason. Only twenty-one with her future ahead of her. Wheeler poured the remainder of her coffee into the sink. Her stomach had curdled.

She knew it was useless but she called Jason anyway. It went straight through to voicemail. She would speak to Stewart about getting him picked up. Either he’d seen Lauren that night, in which case he needed to talk to the police, or he hadn’t, in which case they could discount him from the investigation.

She pulled on her running shoes, opened the door and headed out into the cold, dark morning. She needed to let go of her frustration about Jason and also the lack of progress in the Gilmore case, and pounding the streets was as good a way as any to refocus.

Five miles later and she was back. She kicked off her running shoes and stripped naked, padded through the hallway into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The steam rose through the air and she slathered on rose-scented oil. In the hall the buzzer sounded. And again. She heard the commotion outside. A voice shouting, calling her name. She grabbed a robe and darted through the hall and across the sitting room. She peered out of the window. Below in the street a solitary, soaked figure stared up at her. Jason.

She crossed to the hall, slammed her hand against the buzzer and tried to stop her heart from thundering.

A moment later he stood dripping wet on her kitchen floor. He looked exhausted.

‘Fuckssake, Jason, I nearly had a heart attack. Where have you been?’

He stared at the floor. Said nothing.

After a minute he spoke. ‘You didn’t answer your buzzer.’

She heard the slur in his voice. ‘Wait there.’ She ran to the wardrobe, grabbed an old sweatshirt, collected more towels from the bathroom and threw them at him. ‘Sort yourself out; I’ll put on some coffee.’

When she returned he was sitting on the sofa, sniffing.

She studied him, saw the tremor, the downturned eyes. Nothing remained of the bravado she’d seen in the pub. The night he had been with Lauren. ‘You know about Lauren Taylor?’

He nodded. ‘I heard about it from a friend. He texted me.’

‘Have you called your mum?’

‘No, not yet.’

She’d trust that to be the truth. ‘Think maybe you should.’

‘Don’t have my phone.’

She tossed her mobile to him. ‘Call her now, while I pour the coffee.’

When she came back, he’d made the call. ‘Told her I’d call later for a longer chat.’

‘Yeah?’

He nodded, ‘Yeah.’ He sipped his coffee. Said nothing for a long while.

‘So, about Lauren Taylor’s death? When was the last time you saw her?’’

‘I didn’t know her that well.’

‘Wasn’t she the girl in the pub with you?’

He stared at the floor. ‘We were just drinking buddies, like half of my lecture class. You know, just hanging out. Nothing special. I haven’t seen her since.’

She listened to the tone of his voice, to the timbre. Decided that, once again, it wasn’t authentic. Lauren Taylor had meant more to him than just a drinking buddy and she was pretty sure that he was also lying about having not seen her again. ‘You had your arm around her in the pub.’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘You were friends with her and now she’s dead and you say “yeah, so”? Were you there when she died?’

‘NO!’

‘You were buying from Weirdo; you’re already taking drugs. Why should I believe you?’

‘Only dope, I told you. Not the hard stuff.’

‘Was Lauren taking drugs?’

He looked at the floor. ‘No idea.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Really, you’ve no idea?’

He stared at the floor. ‘Maybe, I don’t know. I didn’t know her that well.’

‘Well, the cops’ll pay you a visit. Anything you want to tell me before they talk to you? Might be better for you to volunteer the info.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like if you were there with Lauren?’

‘I told you, she was just a pal and I wasn’t with her when she died.’

‘Was she suicidal? Depressed?’

‘How the fuck would I know?’

Wheeler balled her right hand into a fist but kept it at her side. ‘You were supposed to be her friend.’

Again, he stared at the floor. Said nothing.

‘Well? Lauren’s dead, and you seem very accepting of it.’

‘What do you want from me? Shit happens. I thought you of all people would know that.’

She stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you phone? I left messages. Went to your flat.’

‘I lost my phone.’ He yawned. ‘I’m shattered.’ A sly glance. ‘You going to tell Mum about seeing me with Weirdo?’

‘What do you think?’ The truth was, she didn’t give a shit. Jason was going to get a visit from the CID; that would be scarier than his mother.

‘Mum’ll go ballistic if she knows I smoke dope.’

Wheeler looked at him, couldn’t believe that he could be so naive. ‘You’ve no idea the trouble you could be in, have you?’

‘You know what she’s like. You’re lucky.’

‘That right?’ Unclenched her fist; let him rot in jail if they found anything linking him to the girl’s death.

‘Not having parents.’

Wheeler wondered who they’d send to interview Jason, or would they drag him into the station? She would request the latter. Scare the shit out of him. ‘How come not having parents is now a positive?’

‘Well, at least they’re not here to nag you.’

Wheeler stared at her nephew. What a fucking charmer.

Jason cleared his throat. ‘I need to get back home.’ He waited.

She let him wait.

He paused, looked at her from behind his fringe. ‘I’ve no cash on me though.’

Finally she got it, the hesitation, the waiting. So this was how he played his mother. Wheeler went to the door, opened it. Waited.

‘A tenner?’

She shook her head. ‘You’ve got Weirdo on speed dial, a young girl is dead and you want money?’

‘I need it. I’ve no food in the flat . . . and—’

‘And tell it to someone who gives a shit. And Jason?’

He waited.

‘I can take you to the station but it would look better if you went in yourself.’

‘But you’re . . .’ His expression told her what she’d expected: the only reason he’d come to see her was he thought that she’d protect him. Little shit.

‘Yeah?’ she looked hard at him. ‘I’m what?’

‘Nothing. I’ll go myself.’ He left, slamming the door on his way out.

She stood at the window and saw him walk head down into the rain. Saw him check his pockets then hail a taxi. Her nephew. An addict. And a liar. Fucking great.

Wheeler was still thinking about him when she reached the station.

Chapter 44

They were midway through the session. Dr Moore sat quietly, waited until Doyle settled again after his outburst. ‘So, that’s why you decided on twice-weekly sessions?’