Page 47 of Mann Hunt
“Do you recall what colour his right eye is?”
Katherine began to cry and looked toward Deirdre. “I can’t remember! Deirdre, I can’t remember. I can’t even picture it right now.” She buried her face in her hands.
Simon’s face crinkled into a frown as he asked the coroner, “Why the right eye?”
Deirdre shot him a sharp look. “Simon! You’re not being helpful.”
“I was just asking—”
“Not…now!” Deirdre said in a loud whisper.
The coroner replied, “I was just hoping to confirm which eye was which colour.” He looked at Katherine. “At times like this, memory can easily get…muddled.”
Luke interjected, “Mrs Mann, can you think of any reason why your husband might have been along the shores of the Elbow River on the night he disappeared?”
“No.”
“So, he wasn’t one to go fishing, or…swimming?”
“No. Are you saying he drowned?”
Dr Willart took a breath before continuing. “Mrs Mann, your husband was found in the river. More to the point, he was naked. Constable Fraser was simply trying to determine if he was the type to go for a swim.”
“In the river? Why would he…”
“Mrs Mann, I’m going to show you a video image of the man we believe is your husband. Are you ready to see it and tell me if you recognise him?”
Katherine nodded and held tightly onto Deirdre’s hand. A screen lit up with an overhead image of a man’s face and neck. Below that was draped in a sheet. The left side of his face was covered in a cloth. Katherine looked at the image. The face looked so…colourless. And slack. She couldn’t make out the hair. Ian’s always fell across his face. This face was bare. Was this Ian?
“I will now show you a profile angle,” Dr Willart informed her.
The camera view instantly changed to a side view. The ear looked like Ian’s but…
“Is his ear pierced? I can’t see it,” Katherine asked.
“It is.”
“And the other ear?”
Dr Willart answered, “Yes, they’re both pierced.”
Katherine continued to examine the face. It looked like an amateur artist’s rendering of Ian. Everything was there, only not quite right.
“Mrs Mann?” Dr Willart prompted. “Is this your husband?”
“Yes… I think. It looks like it…may have been him. Maybe. It looks…different. His eyes?” Katherine asked.
Dr Willart referred to his notes. “The left eye was grey-green, his right, light blue. One final question—do you wear a particular make and shade of lipstick?”
“What?”
“We found traces of lipstick on your husband’s lips. I need to know if it was yours, or, perhaps…”
Sergeant McKeckran snorted and coughed.
“Officer,” Dr Willart snapped, “do you need a glass of water?”
Katherine hated the man that coughed. And the hate gave her enough clarity to remember and say, “Tom Ford’s Fucking Fabulous Lip Color.”
