by Kerry Watts
Kenny allowed his fingers to fall away as he frowned. ‘Circumstances? What circumstances?’
Jessie indicated to Dylan to retrieve the letter from his pocket and handed it to Kenny.
‘I wanted to talk, that was all.’ Rachel’s tone sharpened. ‘I wanted them to see that what I wanted to do wouldn’t affect them or their property. I even offered them some compensation money.’ She stood quickly and moved to her window to glance out over the paddock. ‘They didn’t even call me when they got the letter. I didn’t even know they’d received it until now.’
‘Where were you this morning?’ Jessie probed and watched Rachel pace slowly back and forth. ‘Tommy Angus said that his mum told him she could see you walking towards their property.’
Rachel turned and shot a panicked glance at her husband then looked straight at Jessie. ‘I wasn’t going to their house.’ She shrugged then offered an explanation. ‘I was out with the horses from half six. I like them to feel the fresh early-morning air on their backs. I rode out Dex for half an hour then Miss Molly. She might have seen me in the paddock but I wasn’t on my way to see her.’
‘The paddock we bought from them recently backs on to their driveway, Detectives,’ Kenny added. ‘Rachel must have been walking in the paddock when Jean saw her.’
Jessie turned at the sound of his voice. ‘Where were you, Mr Ferguson?’
‘Kenny was still in bed,’ Rachel stated. ‘Look, I was upset that they objected to my planning application, I admit that – and yes, I wrote to them asking to meet so we could talk but I did not kill my neighbours.’ She pleaded: ‘I’m not a mixed-up fourteen-year-old girl anymore.’
Either she was a very good liar or Rachel Ferguson was telling the truth, Jessie decided. Nothing about her body language gave the impression she was trying to conceal something or she was being deceptive. In fact, quite the opposite. She had shared a considerable amount of information. Jessie would still have the couple tested for gunshot residue, though.
‘Well, thank you for your time. I know that must have been very difficult to tell us.’ Jessie wanted her to know she realised the impact Rachel’s revelation would have on her. ‘Some of my colleagues will be over shortly to carry out a swab test for gunshot residue. I hope you understand that’s just procedure.’
Rachel nodded without answering when Jessie stood. Dylan headed out to the car just in front of her with Kenny not far behind him. Kenny tried to protest until Rachel put her hand on his shoulder.
‘No problem.’ Rachel tried to smile. ‘We understand, don’t we?’ She stared at Kenny, who sighed loudly before nodding.
Jessie had so many more questions but she would do her own research first. Her mind kept drifting back to the cold indifference shown by the dead couple’s grandson. The bizarre sight of him enjoying a sandwich while he sat close to his dead grandfather’s corpse was shocking. An image she wouldn’t soon forget.
‘What did you make of that then?’ Dylan asked as they sat in her car.
‘A bit of honesty for a change,’ she answered while she pulled on her seatbelt and started the engine. ‘Instead of having to drag it out of people.’
‘That’s your exhaust,’ Dylan pointed out, hearing the low rumble. ‘A huge hole by the sounds of it.’
Jessie sighed and indicated out of the Fergusons’ drive. ‘I know. MOT is coming up too. I’m thinking of getting a new car this time. Don’t fancy spending loads of money patching this thing up again.’
Dylan smiled. ‘Brilliant, what do you fancy?’
She laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘I have no idea. I’ve had this for six, no going on for seven years.’
‘I’ll come with you if you like,’ he suggested. ‘To the showroom, I mean. I know my way round an engine a little.’
Jessie was touched. ‘I might just take you up on that offer.’
As she pulled her car up outside the Anguses’ cottage, they watched on in horror as Tommy Angus was loaded into the back of a police car, thrashing and shouting, struggling with officers who tried to contain him. Jessie quickly parked up and moved inside to see David Lyndhurst holding ice to his cheek.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Jessie exclaimed.
‘All I said was that I was getting his parents ready to take to the mortuary with me and he flipped. He wasn’t happy to have his hands swabbed as it was.’ He pulled the ice away to show Jessie his face. ‘Then he did this – he reeks of booze.’
Jessie was visibly shocked and turned to see Dylan walking towards her with a serious expression.
‘Dylan, what is it?’ she asked.
‘Do either of you know where Tommy’s son Gordon has gone?’
6
1990
Alice’s solicitor had explained that she would be interviewed by two detectives but that she would be right there with her, along with a social worker. Alice watched two detectives join her in the cold interview room with the drab grey walls and a table and chairs in the centre. Just like in the cop shows on TV. One looked quite a bit younger than the other and better-looking with silk tie and tie pin.
‘Alice, my name is Detective Crawford and this is my colleague Detective Harrison. Can we get you a glass of water or anything?’ He shot a glance at the social worker who was sitting in on the interview. ‘You have a copy of your rights. Is there anything you don’t understand or that hasn’t been explained to you properly?’
Alice shook her head and stared at the table. ‘I’m fine,’ she whispered.
‘You’ll have to speak up a little for me,’ Detective Crawford explained.
‘I’m fine,’ Alice snapped her head up and repeated. She looked to see her solicitor smiling at her and scribbling on her notepad. The room suddenly felt small, like it was closing around her. Alice wanted to leave but she felt frozen to the chair.
‘In your own time,’ he asked, ‘can you tell us what happened to your grandparents?’
The two detectives waited. Alice looked again at her solicitor and swallowed hard while she shuffled to get comfortable in her chair. It was getting hotter in that little room.
‘It’s OK – take your time,’ Alice’s solicitor explained.
‘I think I do need a glass of water,’ Alice replied.
Detective Crawford nodded and tapped the other detective’s arm.
‘I’ll go and get you one,’ he told her before he left the interview room.
Nobody spoke while they waited. Alice’s solicitor wrote on her notepad and the social worker gave her a warm smile when she spotted the girl’s nerves. Alice reciprocated as best she could, grateful when her drink soon arrived.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured then gulped half the glass quickly.
‘Is that better?’
‘Much better, thanks.’
‘Do you feel up to telling me what happened last night?’ the detective urged.
Alice thought her heart would explode at the speed it was beating. She became aware of a powerful pulsing sensation in her neck and felt a little light-headed. She finished the last of the water and pushed it away from her. Her mouth was still so dry. David hadn’t told her about this. He hadn’t told her what to say if this happened.
‘I, erm, I’m not sure exactly.’
Alice knew she was talking but her voice didn’t sound like her own. She was a stranger telling a story of something that happened to someone else.
‘Take your time,’ her solicitor reassured her.
Alice attempted a smile. She licked her drying lips, which she felt cracking at the edges. She scratched her arm with one hand and swept her fringe out of her eyes with the other before folding them tightly against her chest.
‘We didn’t—’ Alice leaned her elbows on the table and lowered her head into her hands. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’ She spoke quickly, mumbling the words.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.’ The detective leaned in closer.
‘I said, erm, we, erm, I – it wasn’t meant to
end like this.’ Alice looked up.
She watched the detective opposite her sit up, leaning back against the chair. He picked up his pen and pressed it against the table to expose the nib before lining up the sheet of paper in front of him. She could see the lines next to his eyes when he frowned at her.
‘How was it supposed to end?’ he asked her, then shrugged. ‘If not like this, then how?’
‘I don’t know.’ Alice’s eyes dropped to the floor. ‘David didn’t tell me what to say if this happened.’
Alice daren’t look up. She was scared she would cry and she didn’t want to break down in front of everyone. David would want her to be strong. She listened to the sound of her own breath in sync with the detective’s. She could hear the pen gliding across the paper. It made a scratching sound when it slid across the surface. It grew louder and louder in the silence. She gulped breath into her lungs and clasped her hands to her ears.
‘Make it stop.’ Alice struggled for breath and ran for the door, followed quickly by one of the detectives, who held her firmly in his arms. ‘Let me go; you have to let me go. I can’t stay here. I can’t breathe.’
‘You’re OK; I’ve got you. Nice deep breaths.’ His voice drifted through the fog in Alice’s mind until her eyes closed and everything went black.
7
Jessie left Dylan at the Anguses’ farmhouse to join the forensic search of the property and followed the patrol car with Tommy Angus in the back, still shouting by the looks of things. She’d been genuinely shocked to see him like that. He was naturally upset when she’d spoken to him but he’d said or done nothing to indicate he was about to do something like that – and Jessie hadn’t smelled booze on him. Body odour sure, cigarettes too; he stank of them, but not booze. It was his son’s behaviour that concerned Jessie the most. She knew grief affected people in different ways but he’d been weird and now he’d disappeared. Then she recalled the whisky both Rachel and Kenny Ferguson had knocked back in the short time she was with them. She wondered if the reason for Tommy’s dishevelled state was a drink problem. A shame, because he’d been such a gifted athlete at school, he’d won every inter-school final, if Jessie recalled correctly.
Her phone buzzed and she pulled over to answer Dylan’s call.
‘What’s up?’ she said while she pulled on the handbrake and stared at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, annoyed that he hadn’t pointed out she’d smudged her mascara. She listened to his information with interest. ‘No way. You’ve found a will. That’s interesting. Bag it and anything else you find. I’m on my way back to you now. Tommy can sober up in the cells for a bit.’
‘Well,’ she exclaimed aloud and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat, wincing at the horrible sound her exhaust was making. ‘A will. Now there’s a motive for murder.’
Before she could do anything else a loud crash followed by a scraping sound rang out and her car lurched to a stop, thankfully close to a petrol station.
‘What the hell?’ she announced and called Dylan right back to tell him she would be a bit later than she’d said. She slammed her palm on the steering wheel, annoyed with herself for allowing this to happen. It was Boxing Day. She doubted whether there would be anyone working at the petrol station. Jessie got out to take a look at what might have made that awful noise and gasped at the sight of a portion of her exhaust lying on the road under the back of her car. ‘Oh my God, not today.’
Jessie flopped down onto the passenger seat and regretted that her RAC membership had recently expired. An older Vauxhall Astra pulled in behind her, with a man wearing large sunglasses in the passenger seat and a pretty blonde woman in the driver’s seat. She watched in her mirror as the passenger got out and walked towards her stricken vehicle just as another call came in, this time from the station. Jessie couldn’t hide her shock at the news.
‘I’m on my way,’ she answered, hoping that really was the case. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where was it used?’
A debit card belonging to Malcolm Angus had just been used at an ATM in Perth and the amount stolen was no loose change. Jessie now urgently had to get back to the station. She asked for a patrol car to come and collect her, relieved that there was one nearby that could be with her within a few minutes. She would have to abandon her car for now.
She tucked her phone back into her bag and looked up to see the Astra’s passenger smiling at her.
‘You look like you could do with some help?’
The familiar voice sent shivers down Jessie’s spine – no, right through her entire body.
‘No thank you.’ She had to use every ounce of strength to maintain her composure.
‘Are you sure? We can give you a lift; it’s no trouble.’ The man beamed. ‘It’s not like we’re strangers.’
Jessie glanced over her shoulder at the driver in the car behind. Of all the cars to pass her it had to be his. The driver could only be in her late twenties at best and she was pretty, Jessie had to admit that. She was so relieved to see the police car come round the bend and pull up next to her.
‘No thanks, Dan – my lift’s here.’
Her ex-husband Dan Holland glanced at the driver of the patrol car and shrugged. ‘No problem. Just thought you looked like you needed some help. It was my girlfriend Haley that suggested we stop.’ Dan pointed towards her car and smiled. ‘You would like her, Jess. She’s lovely. You two have a lot in common actually.’
Dan put his sunglasses back on and he grinned when he walked away.
‘You need a ride, DI Blake?’ the approaching officer asked.
‘Yes, please. Thanks for coming to get me so quickly.’ Jessie felt her anxiety and the flush on her cheeks recede the further Dan moved away from her. ‘Typical. What a day to break down, huh?’
‘You won’t be the only one that’s happened to, I’m sure,’ the chirpy officer told her.
Jessie abandoned her car and walked towards her waiting lift. She would have to arrange to pick it up later. Jessie didn’t want to, but no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, her eyes were drawn by an irresistible force towards the young woman as she drove past. A sickening thud struck her stomach. She felt Dan’s eyes burn into her too. She should have looked away but she couldn’t. This woman’s face was now etched in her brain. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen it.
Jessie made a mental note of the registration number. It wouldn’t hurt to just check who she was, would it? She wondered if this woman was living through the nightmare that had claimed the life of Jessie’s son.
8
Jessie thanked the young officer who had been sent to rescue her from the broken-down wreck – as she had to admit her old Fiesta was – and headed back into the Anguses’ farmhouse. Dylan waved her over as soon as he spotted her come in the front door.
‘Where did you find it?’ she asked.
Dylan held up a clear plastic evidence bag with a torn envelope inside it. ‘It was stuffed between two big books on the Welsh dresser. It’s unsigned and there’s an appointment card in there too.’
Jessie thrust her hands into a pair of gloves and opened the bag to pull the envelope out. She thumbed the card.
‘His solicitor was coming to the house on the third of next month. Interesting.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Dylan remarked. ‘There’s some pretty major changes to that will that I can’t imagine would please Tommy Angus.’
Jessie read through the papers. She was shocked by the apparent brutality of Malcolm’s wishes.
‘So the entire estate was being put in Gordon’s name after their deaths. Not Tommy’s.’
Jessie pondered what would make a father do that until she read on. It became clear then just how big a problem Tommy Angus had with alcohol.
‘Wow,’ Jessie exclaimed. ‘That’s harsh.’
‘Wow indeed,’ Dylan replied. ‘Gordon gets the lot and Tommy gets an allowance out of the estate to meet his needs. Malcolm must have thought Tommy was going to piss everythin
g up against the wall.’
‘Brutal,’ Jessie added. ‘Do you reckon Tommy knew? Or Gordon?’
Dylan shrugged. ‘We won’t know until we find Gordon and Tommy sobers up.’
‘Aye, you’re right there.’ Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket. ‘Hang on.’ She moved away to answer but the unknown caller ID made her heart sink. Of course Dan was going to call. Jessie pressed ‘reject call’ and pushed her phone deep into her pocket.
‘Who was that?’ Dylan was curious. He’d seen that look before. He’d seen her on edge many times over phone calls she’d received. He didn’t want to pry but he was concerned. He’d heard about the incident with a man who’d said he was her husband in the cells a while back but didn’t press her on it. ‘Everything OK?’
Jessie looked up and wanted to scream, No it’s not! Help me. I don’t know what to do. My abusive ex-husband has a new girlfriend and I’m scared for her.
‘It’s nothing, don’t worry. Wrong number, I imagine.’ She smiled to hide her discomfort.
‘Cool, OK,’ Dylan replied then paused, searching for the right words. ‘But if that changes to being not OK at any time…’
Jessie smiled again. This time it was genuine. She placed a hand on his arm.
‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘Thanks, Dylan.’
Dylan shrugged. ‘You’re welcome. So what now?’ He brought the conversation back to the case. ‘Who’s first then. Tommy or Gordon?’
‘You haven’t heard?’ she asked.
‘Heard what?’
‘Malcolm Angus’s bank card was used at an ATM in Perth a short time ago. I’m waiting on a call about the camera that’s attached to that particular machine. It’s the ATM at the Tesco on South Street.’
‘Oh, the one that still—’
‘Aye, the one that still gives you fivers,’ Jessie interrupted him.
‘You any idea how much was withdrawn?’ Dylan probed.
