Heartlands

by Kerry Watts

  ‘I’ll go over and check on them.’

  ‘Could you hang fire until we get David’s report? He’s doing Shannon’s PM as a priority.’

  Just as she finished that sentence, her phone rang.

  ‘Talk of the devil,’ she said. ‘Hi, David. How are you?’

  Dylan waited and watched as she nodded at what David was telling her. When she closed her eyes and exhaled, he knew the news wasn’t good.

  ‘Thanks, yes, speak soon.’ Jessie licked her lips and dropped her phone onto the desk. ‘OK, we now officially have a murder investigation on our hands.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’ Dylan brushed his hands roughly over his neatly cropped hair. This was the first murder he knew of in Inverlochty.

  ‘Dylan?’

  ‘What? No, sorry, I’m fine, it’s just a shock. I mean, this is Inverlochty, for Christ’s sake. At worst I thought we were looking at an accident, which is obviously horrendous enough, I know, but murder?’

  Jessie continued with David’s findings.

  ‘Shannon Ross was dead before she hit the water because there was no water in her lungs. Probable cause of death was a massive head injury as David found Shannon’s skull had a large crack across the back, most likely from blunt force trauma.’

  ‘What now, boss?’ Dylan asked. ‘Who would want to do that to someone like wee Shannon? Are we looking at Foster for this? The blood in his bathroom? Her phone in his kitchen?’

  Jessie perched on the edge of her desk and stared up at Shannon’s smiling face. She pointed at the photo.

  ‘I don’t know yet, but what I do know is that when we find out who has done this, we prepare the best airtight motherfucker of a case against the bastard and nail his sorry arse to the wall. He’s going to wish he’d never been born.’

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Cassie’s heart broke for her best friend. She couldn’t believe Louise had the strength to stand, let alone come and collect her, after Louise told her the awful truth about Shannon. Louise was on autopilot. She was moving with the tide of whatever came along, and for now that was collecting Cassie. She had lost the ability to oppose the forces that jostled for her attention.

  ‘Thank you for this,’ Cassie whispered. ‘If I’d known.’ She stopped. She didn’t know what else to say.

  It hurt to look into Louise’s empty eyes, so filled with pain.

  As Louise turned into Cassie’s drive, she was troubled by the fact that Rob’s car wasn’t there. Louise knew he’d taken the miscarriage hard, but he wouldn’t go without telling anyone; without telling her. That wasn’t Rob’s style. She opened the passenger door for Cassie and helped her walk slowly inside.

  ‘Rob, are you here?’ Cassie shouted into the empty house.

  Cassie saw that the messages she’d left for him on the answering machine hadn’t been listened to as the number four flashed up at her. Louise sat next to her friend, but before she had the chance to speak, she spotted a white envelope with Cassie’s name on it and panicked. What if Rob had confessed to their affair?

  ‘What’s that?’ Cassie’s eyes narrowed as she reached for the white envelope propped up against the plant on the coffee table.

  Dear Cassie,

  I know you won’t understand what I must do but I want you to know that I loved you and our baby with all my heart. This isn’t about you or our son. I really thought I had a chance to have the family I never had as a boy, but perhaps it’s only fair that I’m denied that chance. I’m so sorry that you’re alone and hurting. I never meant for that to happen. I hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I’ve done a terrible thing, and you’re about to find out the truth about me. I guess I’m a coward for not wanting to stick around to face the consequences.

  Love always,

  Rob x

  Louise dropped the paper. ‘I have to go, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Louise, wait.’ Cassie tried to follow her but her weakness meant that Louise was gone by the time she reached the door, which had been left wide open in her haste. Before she had a chance to close the door, a man she didn’t recognise appeared at the bottom of the drive and called out to her by name.

  ‘Cassie Taylor, I wonder if I could have five minutes of your time?’

  The man continued towards the door and smiled as if he knew her.

  ‘Do I know you?’ she asked, feeling vulnerable and alone suddenly.

  ‘Forgive me, my name is Tom Nicoll. Your husband and I go back a long way.’

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Tom Nicoll was disappointed but not surprised not to find Rob at home this time, but he didn’t have to be present for Tom to destroy his life. The look of terror on his face last night would have to do for now.

  ‘You’re a friend of Rob’s?’ Cassie asked as Tom moved past her into the hall.

  Tom eyed the hall, then allowed his eyes to drift up the staircase, briefly coming to rest on the huge bookcase at the top. Oak, if he wasn’t much mistaken. Expensive taste for a murderer, he thought.

  ‘Yes, your husband and I go back more than twenty years. He hasn’t mentioned me?’ He paused before turning to face her. ‘Or my little sister Sophie?’

  Cassie leaned on the front door as it clicked shut. Her mind still spun after Rob’s note, and now this stranger was claiming to be an old friend.

  ‘So how do you know Rob?

  In that moment Tom felt truly sorry for her. Her eyes searched for the truth when she had no idea what the truth really was.

  Cassie had cried, and she had shouted; screamed even. She had insisted Tom was lying. Then she was adamant he was mixing Rob up with someone else. Anger and denial at the loss of the man she once knew. A normal reaction. It was painful to watch, but it had to be done, Tom reflected as he walked from there to the police station.

  ‘I need to talk to the detective in charge of the investigation into Shannon Ross’s disappearance.’

  ‘I’ll tell DI Blake you’re here. What did you say your name was?’ The desk sergeant picked up the phone.

  ‘I’m Tom Nicoll. Tell her I have information that someone should have told her from the beginning.’

  ‘Send him straight through,’ Jessie told the desk sergeant.

  Before he left them alone, Dylan told Jessie that he was about to head over to Louise and Jason’s, which piqued Tom’s interest.

  ‘How are they coping, Shannon’s parents?’ His expression softened at the mention of their names.

  ‘As well as can be expected, I suppose. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so—’

  ‘Take as long as you need,’ said Jessie. ‘I’ll call you if I need you back.’

  Dylan left with a nod and closed the door behind him, leaving Jessie with her mysterious visitor.

  ‘Please take a seat, Mr Nicoll. You have information that could help my investigation, is that right?’

  Tom pulled a chair out from the table and sat down opposite her. ‘Yes, I certainly do.’

  The echo of the key turning in the lock sent chills down Dylan’s spine. There was something about this place that really bothered him.

  ‘Andrew is in the day room. Go straight through.’ The nurse disappeared into a side room before Dylan had a chance to thank her.

  Dylan walked in the direction he’d been ushered to find Andrew sat at a table alone, scribbling notes in a notebook.

  ‘Andrew Foster. I’m DC Dylan Logan.’ He held up his ID, which Andrew glanced at suspiciously, then went back to writing in his book.

  ‘What’s that you’re writing?’ Dylan asked enthusiastically, to open a dialogue.

  ‘What business is that of yours?’ Andrew Foster frowned, then closed his book and tucked his pen into the wire margin.

  ‘It’s none of my business, you’re right, I’m sorry.’ Dylan tried again. ‘So, how are you, Andrew?’

  ‘I’m fine, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s good, I’m glad. And your arms, how are they doing?’

  Andrew’s gaze
wandered to the bandages on his forearms and he nodded.

  ‘Aye, I’m OK. It could have been a lot worse, I suppose.’

  A short silence settled over them while Dylan considered how to approach the subject of Shannon’s disappearance and now murder.

  The nurse who had let Dylan in appeared behind them and nodded towards the small ward kitchen.

  ‘Help yourself to a cup of tea, or perhaps Andrew could get you one?’

  ‘No thanks. I’m fine, really.’ Dylan lifted a hand at the offer.

  ‘So, what can I do for you, officer?’ Andrew asked. ‘I’m sure you’re not here just to see how I’m doing.’

  Dylan exhaled a huge sigh, which caused Andrew to frown.

  ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened?’

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that Shannon Ross was found dead yesterday morning. A fisherman discovered her body. She was murdered, Andrew.’

  Andrew threw himself back in his chair and sat bolt upright. ‘No! That can’t be true. You’re lying!’ He clasped both hands across the top of his head. ‘I pushed her!’ he shouted. ‘But I didn’t kill her, did I?’ The doubt in his voice was palpable. He hammered his fists on the table and screamed, then turned his fists on himself, punching his head hard. ‘No, she can’t be dead. Not Shannon, she’s a good girl. The voices, they were so loud. They made me do it. I wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t been screaming at me like that. No, no. She can’t be gone. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just wanted it to stop.’

  A group of nurses ran to their table to check on him and one of them shook his head at Dylan.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. Andrew is too distressed to continue this conversation.’

  Dylan watched with horror as Andrew received an injection which had an immediate effect. Foster’s thrashing, tormented body softened quickly before he was helped to his feet and guided towards his room.

  If Andrew Foster had done something to Shannon, it was going to be incredibly difficult to find out what or why.

  Jessie stared at Tom Nicoll, unable to utter a single word. Everything she had just heard was whirring around in her brain. When Tom produced the newspaper clippings and photographs, there was no denying that the man she knew as Rob Taylor was in fact Daniel Simpson. It was the eyes. His eyes were distinctive and unmistakable. Why hadn’t she been informed the moment she arrived? Sophie and Shannon looked alike; blonde and blue-eyed. They were even the same age. Jessie’s head swam with different scenarios. Was Taylor using Louise to get to Shannon? Did he kill her the day she went missing? Had he been lying to her, to everyone since that night? Surely someone must have been supervising this man?

  ‘How did you find him?’ Jessie wondered.

  ‘Quite by accident, detective inspector. I saw his face on the news and I recognised it in an instant. Twenty years might have gone by, but there are days that it feels like yesterday to me.’

  Tom’s steely composure began to slip.

  ‘I’m sorry that happened to your sister.’

  The sadness in Tom’s eyes was obvious. ‘You have to find him.’

  ‘What do you mean, find him?’

  ‘He’s gone, detective.’

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Dylan knocked at the door and prepared himself as best he could. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or not to see Ben answer the door.

  ‘Hello, Ben, is your sister in?’

  ‘They’re in the kitchen.’

  Ben’s head thumped. The hospital had kept him in overnight for observation, and had given him an emergency appointment with the community psychiatric nurse at his GP surgery at the end of the week to assess his mental health needs.

  Dylan wiped his feet and followed Ben inside. He loosened his jacket as he walked towards the kitchen. Louise stood and moved closer to him.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Louise. Shannon didn’t drown.’

  Jason’s chair scraped across the vinyl floor as he stood. ‘What do you mean?’

  Louise pulled Jason’s arm away. ‘Let him speak.’

  Jason allowed his arms to fall by his sides.

  ‘Shannon died from a blow to the back of the head. I’m so sorry. She was dead before she hit the water.’

  Jason raced to the sink and only just made it before he vomited. Louise tried to ask Dylan a question, but the words wouldn’t come.

  ‘DI Blake will come and talk over what will happen next. I know this is a lot to take in.’

  Louise’s legs felt uncertain underneath her and Dylan helped her into a chair. Jason wiped the vomit from his mouth.

  ‘Who would do something like that?’ And then a horrifying thought hit him. ‘Did he hurt her, you know? Was she—?’

  Dylan interrupted him with a shake of his head. ‘No, there was no evidence of any sexual assault.’ He kept his voice low.

  The front door slammed shut behind him and Ben ran. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to run.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  The shock of Jessie’s words stopped Dylan in his tracks.

  ‘I’ll meet you there. I’m on my way now.’

  He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, stunned by the revelation of Rob’s identity. He vaguely remembered the case from the mid-1990s, but why hadn’t they been informed he was living in Inverlochty?

  When he arrived at the top of the hill he found Jessie’s car tucked behind the hedge at the entrance to the driveway. Jessie waved for Dylan to stay out of sight, so he did as he was told and parked behind her car.

  ‘Is he in?’ Dylan whispered.

  ‘I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’

  After a long, heated discussion with a senior social worker called Camilla Walsh, Jessie was given all the information she requested. After his release in 2001, Daniel Simpson ceased to exist, replaced by Rob Taylor. He was moved into a halfway house, a supported accommodation project in Glasgow. His former life in the north of England was wiped from history, apart from the few people who needed to know. Jessie learned that he was one of a handful of convicted killers living under this licence. Camilla assured her that she would report the matter to the probation service authority as a matter of urgency, and couldn’t understand how such a potentially disastrous oversight could have happened.

  ‘Hello, can I help you?’ Cassie answered the door to Jessie’s ID badge in her face.

  ‘Is Rob here? It’s a matter of some urgency that we speak to him.’

  ‘You had better come in.’ Cassie waved them both through the door. ‘Rob isn’t here. He’s left me, but I know why you’re here for him.’

  Dylan closed the front door and followed the two women inside.

  ‘Where is he?’ Jessie asked.

  ‘He’s not here, I told you,’ Cassie said. ‘So you can stop searching.’

  ‘I just need to check your house, Cassie. Is that OK?’ Jessie asked.

  A shrug of Cassie’s shoulders was enough for Jessie to begin her room-to-room search.

  ‘When did you last see your husband?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘My husband? And who is he, exactly?’ Cassie laughed bitterly as she sat down slowly on the sofa, still finding movement uncomfortable. It was clear that Rob had run when he realised he was about to be exposed.

  ‘When did you last see Rob?’

  ‘Rob? Don’t you mean Daniel?’ Cassie called back. ‘I can’t believe this is happening! Two weeks ago I was expecting my baby. Shannon wasn’t gone. Everybody was happy.’ Cassie broke down. ‘Why did he do it? To Shannon. To Louise. To me?’

  ‘I know this is hard.’ Dylan placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Have you any idea where Rob would go? Somewhere he might go to get away from everything? Does he have a holiday home, any relatives nearby? Anybody, anywhere?’

  ‘He told me both his parents were dead.’ Cassie dropped her head in her hands, then shook her head. ‘God, I’ve been so stupid. It’s all my
fault. If I hadn’t got together with him he wouldn’t have been able to get close to Shannon.’

  Jessie made her way back to the living room and shook her head at Dylan.

  ‘I told you he wasn’t here! I don’t know where he is. He didn’t even collect me from hospital after I lost our baby.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Cassie. I had no idea.’ Jessie knew the pain all too well. Poor Cassie. She must be going through hell, she thought, and now this. ‘Is there someone I can call for you? Someone who can be with you?’

  Cassie appreciated her gesture. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks. I’m going to my mum’s. Just find him, please. Before anyone else gets hurt. Promise me?’

  Jessie glanced at Dylan, then back to Cassie.

  ‘I promise,’ she whispered.

  Finding that letter under the door to his room was the holy grail for a journalist and, as he sat at his laptop, Blair Crawford opened another bottle of beer and toasted Tom Nicoll.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  2010

  Rob knew he could be happy in Inverlochty; especially in a house on the top of a hill just on the outskirts of town. There was a good vibe about the house, and the town. He’d worked hard to afford this house. He deserved it. The past few years had been hard. Rob would never deny that; instead he would use it to become the man he should be. Book three was coming along well, and he still enjoyed the buzz of five-star reviews as much as he had the very first one. Writing book one had been more a form of therapy than a deliberate literary effort. He had no idea what lay ahead when he first put pen to paper. Cam bought him the notebook and pen because she knew he liked to write, but even she had no idea what was about to come.

  ‘That’s us all done,’ the hefty, balding removal man called upstairs in his harsh Glasgow accent. ‘We’re heading off now.’

  ‘Hang on, I’m coming down.’ Rob grabbed two twenty-pound notes from his jeans and walked downstairs. ‘Thanks, guys, for all your hard work.’