A Meditation On Murder

‘For god’s sake,’ Paul drawled in a patrician manner, ‘be quiet, woman.’

‘Of course, Paul. Sorry.’

Ann pulled her mouth into a contrite mou as if to demonstrate how she wouldn’t be saying another word—not another peep!—and Richard took a moment to look at Paul. There was so little to him, really. His face was almost skeletally thin, his skin was sallow, what hair he did have was grey and wispy and combed over his bald pate, and yet he seemed to have complete mastery of his otherwise far more punchy wife.

But there was something else Richard could sense between husband and wife, and that was a look of subservience in Ann’s eyes. Why should such a larger-than-life woman like Ann be intimidated by a skeletal squit like Paul? But then, Richard reminded himself, all relationships between men and women were essentially a mystery to him.

He put these thoughts to one side. It was time to get on.

‘I’d first like to thank you all for your help so far. But before we take your formal statements, can I just try and establish the order of events? What happened this morning?’

‘Be happy to,’ Paul purred, comfortable to take centre stage. ‘It was a terrible business, wasn’t it? Just terrible. But I’ve been thinking it over, and I think I’ve got it.’

Paul looked to the other witnesses for their assent. Saskia was looking too quiet and withdrawn to mind who told their story—but Richard could see that Ben was twinkling, clearly amused at how Paul thought he was master of the situation.

‘If you would?’ Richard said.

So Paul told Richard how they’d all had to get up at sunrise, which was why it was called the Sunrise Healing. But before they got to the Meditation Space, they’d been expected to stretch on the beach and swim in the sea as a way of preparing their bodies for the treatment, which was hardly a chore, because, as Paul put it, when someone tells you to go for a swim in a sea that’s warm as a bath and teeming with tropical fish, you don’t really need a second invitation.

Richard quietly shuddered at the thought. Didn’t Paul know that thousands of people around the world drowned from swimming in the sea every year?

Paul went on to say that Aslan then came out of the house with a tray of tea things, and called them over. That’s when they put on their white robes.

This detail got Richard’s attention. ‘How do you mean, your robes?’

‘The robes we were wearing when you first met us. We’d been swimming before, so all we had on was our swim things.’

‘I see,’ Richard said. ‘And where did you get your robes from?’

Paul explained that there were little huts all over The Retreat that contained tightly wrapped rolls of fresh cotton robes, and they got their robes that morning from the hut on the beach.

‘Then tell me, did anyone see Julia put her robe on?’ Richard asked.

Ben chortled. ‘Are you trying to work out how she got the murder weapon into the room?’

Richard met Ben’s eyes properly for the first time, and felt a spike of recognition. Closer up, Richard could see that Ben had a chubby face, dark hair—and, with his plum-my northern accent, he gave off the impression of being a jolly farmer. Even if this jolly farmer clearly bought all of his clothes from Harrods. But for all of Ben’s apparent bonhomie, Richard knew you could measure a man by his eyes. How watchful they were. And Ben’s eyes were very watchful.

‘That’s right,’ Richard said. ‘So did any of you see her carrying a knife at all this morning?’

‘There’s no way she had a knife on her,’ Ben said, ‘because I’m telling you, when that girl got out of the sea this morning, all she was wearing was a bikini—and it was barely three pieces of string. There’s no way she had a fifty pence piece hidden about her person, let alone a bloody great carving knife.’

‘He’s right, you know,’ Paul added. ‘You see, it was me who handed out the robes to everyone this morning. You know, after our swim. And there certainly wasn’t anything like a knife wrapped inside the robe I gave to Julia. And seeing as she put it on then and there—and then stayed with us while we all walked to the Meditation Space together—I don’t see where she could have got a knife from.’

‘Then maybe she’d already hidden a knife in the Meditation Space before you arrived?’ Richard asked.

‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ Paul said.

‘Are you sure?’ Richard asked.

‘You’ve been in that room. It’s just an empty box made of paper and wood. And I can guarantee, the only things it contained when we arrived were six prayer mats, six pairs of headphones and some eye masks.’

Richard was puzzled. ‘So you’re all saying that there was no way Julia could have been carrying the knife about her person before she got into the Meditation Space—and there was also nowhere inside the room for her to have hidden the knife before you all arrived?’

The witnesses all agreed that this was indeed exactly what they were saying.

‘In which case,’ Richard asked, ‘just how do you think Julia got the murder weapon into the Meditation Space?’

The witnesses had no idea, and Richard could see their confusion. After all, if Julia came out of the sea in her swimming costume and put on her cotton robe in front of everyone else, it was hard to see how she could have hidden a knife as large as the murder weapon on her person. And Richard had seen the Meditation Space for himself. It was indeed an empty box. Any carving knife hidden inside it beforehand would almost certainly have been noticed by someone. Wouldn’t it?

Richard made a note in his notebook and moved the conversation on. What happened after they’d all got into the Meditation Space?

Paul explained that once they were all inside, Aslan placed the tray of tea in the centre of the floor before inviting everyone to take up a position on their prayer mats in a circle around the tea. Then, once everyone was sitting comfortably, Aslan went and locked the door. Apparently, he had been interrupted a few months before during one of his healing sessions and had asked The Retreat’s handyman to fix a Yale lock to the door.

Richard noted this detail and once again considered how odd it was. After all, he’d investigated many murders before, but he’d never heard of a murder where the killer allowed himself to be locked inside a room with possible witnesses before carrying out the murder. It didn’t make any sense.

Paul explained how, once he’d locked the door, Aslan rejoined the group, sat on his mat and poured everyone a cup of tea. Aslan then told them they all had to drink their cup of tea at the same time.

‘At the same time?’ Richard jumped in.

‘That’s right,’ Paul said, before explaining that it was apparently an old Japanese ritual that dated back to the days of the shoguns. Everyone had to drink their tea at the same time and then turn their cups over to show that they’d finished.

‘Very well,’ Richard said. ‘So you all drank your tea and turned your cups over. What happened next?’

‘Well, then we all put on our eye masks and wireless headphones,’ Paul said. ‘Aslan told us that we then had to lie down, close our eyes, open our minds, and listen to the whale music. This was how we were going to heal ourselves.’

‘Whale music was going to heal you?’

‘It was about losing ourselves in the immensity of the deep. And I was as sceptical as you to start off with. But it’s an odd one, because when you’re lying there—and you can feel all that sunlight on your skin—and you’ve got your eyes closed, and you’re listening to distant whale song, you do start to drift off.’

‘It’s so true!’ Ann said. ‘You go all dreamy.’

‘Dreamy?’ Richard asked a little too keenly, and he saw understanding slip into Ben’s eyes.

‘You think we were all drugged, don’t you?’ Ben said. ‘That’s why you wanted us to give samples to the paramedics.’

The witnesses looked at Richard and he realised he had an explanation to give. ‘It’s a possibility I’m not ruling out. After all, it’s somewhat unusual that a murderer would have the confidence to strike in a confined space in front of so many witnesses. One explanation might be that you were all drugged and the killer wasn’t.’

‘I definitely felt woozy when I woke up,’ Ann said. ‘And so did Paul. He had difficulty waking up in fact. I had to shake him by the shoulders.’

Paul looked at his wife with quiet disdain. Clearly, while he was happy to talk on the behalf of others, he wasn’t so happy when his wife talked on his.

‘So did I,’ Ben said.

‘And me, too,’ Saskia said, speaking for the first time. ‘I couldn’t wake up to start off with, and my head was throbbing. Although I soon forgot about all that when I saw what had happened while I’d been wearing my eye mask.’

‘Of course,’ Richard said, making a note. ‘And what exactly did you see when you took it off?’

Saskia looked at Richard a moment, clearly reliving her horrifying experience and unable to put what she’d seen into words.