She shrugged. “I panicked. Blood everywhere like that, you know, in the bathroom too. So I ran through. Then neither of them was moving, and I thought they’d been murdered too. Like some kind of horror film. So I began screaming.” She shivered slightly.
“When you got into the bedroom, the window … Closed or open?”
“Closed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure. I remember looking out into the garden to see if Daniel was there.”
“And?”
She shook her head.
“You remember who else was there when you were running around?”
“Sandra, of course. And Martina, she was just wandering around the room. Craig was leaning against the door, until I got his bloody arse in gear. After we’d broken down the en suite door, I caught a glimpse of Sarah-Anne standing at the top of the stairs for a second, glaring at me. Like some snooty queen or something.” Sandra threw her a pained look, but Jane just shrugged.
“This was before you went to check on Russell and Charles?”
She nodded.
“And Dennis and Eleanor?”
“Eleanor was there. She was just looking at the knife, in horror. Dennis … I don’t know. I saw him later on. But I can’t remember if he was there at first.”
“And what about Tom?”
“Oh, he was there too. He basically collapsed onto the bed when he saw the blood and all, and stayed there until we organised the search.”
“Do you have anything to add?” Dakar turned to Sandra.
“Not really. I came in just as Jane was getting to the en suite door. I was feeling pretty sick, to be honest. I’ve never liked the sight of blood, and there was a smell of it there as well. Craig broke the door down and there was even more. When Jane ran off and began shouting about Russell and Charles, I stumbled through to the guest bedroom behind her. But dad wasn’t there, and Russell and Charles seemed fine, so we all came back through to the main bedroom. Mum was there, and we searched the upstairs properly. But we didn’t find … anything, then.”
“And the people? You remember the same things?”
“Martina, Craig and Eleanor I remember. And Dennis too, I do remember him in the main bedroom. And Tom coming in and falling onto the bed. He was seriously out of breath. I felt horrible when I was running up the stairs, like something awful had happened, and he … he gave me bad vibes that night. He always does. He’s a bit creepy.”
Dakar looked at Sandra, and cocked his head to the side, gazing at her before his eyes drifted off to a spot on the wall. Stewart watched as Dakar’s hands came together and began sliding over each other, like he was washing them or something.
The silence lasted a few seconds before Dakar broke it, looking at Jane. “And then you decided to tell everyone about the joke Daniel had mentioned?”
Jane looked uneasy again. “Yeah. I mean, the blood and the knife … I’m pretty sure that wasn’t part of it. I got freaked out by that. So after the search, when we didn’t find anything, I thought I’d better say something.”
“And Sarah-Anne wasn’t pleased when you told everyone what Daniel had said to you.”
Jane looked down sourly. “Someone else who tried to take my head off.”
“What did you talk about, when she took you into the en suite?”
Jane threw up her hands. “What you’d expect. A wild claim that Daniel and I were an item somehow, and some promise that we could all live in harmony if I just owned up to it. It was insane. I left as soon as I could.”
“That’s when we thought that maybe dad was at the pub, laughing at all of us. So I volunteered to go and look there. And take Jane with me.” Sandra chimed back in.
“You all went to the pub?”
“Yes. We thought maybe the blood was fake, and that messing up the bedroom was part of his big surprise. To scare everyone. Plus, well, everyone needed a drink. But then mum phoned, and …” Sandra broke off, heaving a deep breath. Her eyes began to redden. Russell pulled her close.
“We all came back to the house. It was like pandemonium, flashing lights everywhere. Tom had been taken to hospital. And the police were crawling all over the house. They took our statements, and then took us back through to Glasgow.”
Dakar looked at Sandra and Jane, his eyes narrowed. “When you were up there, after the banging at the window, did you see anyone go downstairs? Or come upstairs?”
They both shook their heads. “There was so much running around and panic, I didn’t really notice anything. I was too busy looking for Daniel.” Jane answered.
“Did any of you know Charles before that evening?”
The three looked at each other, then shook their heads.
Dakar sat back, and looked over at Stewart expectantly.
Stewart looked at his notes. He put one hand up to cover his mouth as he studied them, then brought his hand away. He looked back up, shaking his head almost with frustration. “Nothing from me.”
Dakar nodded, and stood up slowly, turning back to the three as he did so. He took his coat from the back of the chair as he spoke. “Thank you for your time.” He said the words mechanically, as if he’d said them a million times before.
The other three stood up as well, and began pulling on their coats too.
“You’re leaving as well?”
The three nodded. “Only came out to meet you, Mr Dakar. That was all.” It was Jane who spoke, sounding cheerful.
Dakar looked at her for a moment, the look of an elephant deciding it was too much effort to try and squash an annoying fly. He went over to the bar, where he paid before turning to head out.
Stewart grabbed his coat and bag, sliding the notepad and pen inside before he also headed for the door. They stepped outside into the cold Scottish afternoon. Slivers of rain were beginning to come down, a matinee performance for the true rain that would arrive shortly.
He looked over at Dakar. “So, eh, what do you think?”
“Someone is lying to us.”
Chapter 30
Dakar began walking up Woodlands Road, towards where the car was parked. Stewart followed him, looking back over his shoulder. The other three were heading in the same direction, albeit a bit more slowly, their heads down. Stewart cast a glance at his watch. One thirty. The sky wasn’t as dark as it had been in Edinburgh, the clouds not quite as menacing.
Stewart looked around again when he heard a woman begin shouting. “Sandra. Sandra!”
Sarah-Anne crossed the street towards Sandra, Jane and Russell. She didn’t notice Stewart and Dakar some thirty metres further up the street.
“Why is she here?” The words carried plainly across to Stewart from Sarah-Anne. It was equally plain that while the words were addressed to Sandra, Sarah-Anne was looking at Jane.
“Mum—”
“Sarah-Anne—”
Both Sandra and Russell began speaking at the same time.
“I wasn’t asking you, young man! Sandra, how can you still be friends with her? After what she’s done?”
“Mum, for God’s sake—”
“She humiliated me! In front of everyone!”
Jane broke in. “M— … Sarah-Anne, there was nothing …”
“You! You keep quiet, girl. You’ve done enough damage to the family.”
“But—”
“As soon as I get control of that flat, you’ll be out on your ear, child. I just hope to all the gods you don’t get involved with any more married men.”
“I never did anything with Daniel!”
“Don’t lie! My husband wouldn’t have bothered with you if he wasn’t getting something in return. I knew him that well!”
“I swear—”
“Silence!” Sarah-Anne practically screamed the word at her. A number of other people on Woodlands Road had stopped and were watching.
“No! No I won’t be silent! You don’t know anything …” Jane roared back at Sarah-Anne.
“I know bloody well enough, young lady!
Sandra, I just don’t understand how you can still be friends with her.”
Sandra sighed, and spoke in a low tone, low enough that Stewart couldn’t hear her. Her shoulders were slumped, the humiliation of mother and best friend screaming at each other in public weighing her down.
Stewart practically jumped as Dakar suddenly began walking back towards the group. He hurried after him.
“No I won’t stop! Do you realise what she did? Do you know how much I put up with to stay with your dad, to work on our marriage? There was still a chance. And then I find that Jane, who I took in when …”
Sarah-Anne trailed off as she caught sight of Dakar walking towards the group.
“Mr Dakar! Ah. Hello. And Mr … Mr, eh …” Sarah-Anne blushed, and so did Stewart as she struggled to remember his name.
“Scott.” It was Jane who said it, her tone sullen, eyes turned away to the side.
“Mr Scott, yes.” Sarah-Anne sounded relieved, but she didn’t look over at the rescuer who she had so recently been lambasting.
Dakar nodded to her.
“Ah, we were just, eh, having a chat.” Sarah-Anne looked around the other three, who were all looking down or away. The shame hung heavily in the air. “About the flat arrangements.” Her tone was lame.
“So I heard. What are you doing through in Glasgow?”
“In Glasgow? Oh, I just came through to see Sandra. I wanted to take her out to lunch. To discuss the flat arrangements, you know. As I said.”
There was a strained silence, broken by Dakar. “Can I speak to you for a minute?” He addressed Sarah-Anne.
“Yes, of course. Sandra, wait for me here. Then we can go to a café or something.”
Dakar wandered a few steps down the road, Stewart right behind him. Sarah-Anne followed them a few moments later. Stewart looked back at the group of three. Sandra was muttering in a low voice to Jane and Russell, who turned to leave. Russell had to hurry to keep up with Jane, who was striding away.
“You think Jane was carrying on an affair with Daniel before he died?”
Sarah-Anne nodded vigorously. “I’m sure, Mr Dakar.”
“You’re getting all that from the fact that Daniel visited the flat once when she was on her own and she was giving him some looks on the night he died?”
“She says it was once.” Sarah-Anne spoke viciously. “But I’m sure Daniel went to the flat many times. When Sandra and Russell were out. To see Jane. Only Jane. And …” she took a deep breath, “… he spoke about her sometimes.” Stewart’s eyebrows shot up. “Her and Martina. Whenever he really wanted to hurt me, Mr Dakar, he would begin talking about the way other women looked or dressed, and compare me to them. He used Jane and Martina mainly.”
A grimace appeared on Dakar’s face, pulling the skin taut across his cheekbones. “I see.”
“Yes, well. It didn’t work most of the time. I just told myself that this was the monster speaking, as it were. Not the man I married. At some point he would be himself again, and then he would apologise, and cry, and tell me how sorry he was about what he’d said.”
“Most of the time?”
Sarah-Anne gave him a tight smile, her eyes becoming glassy as the water sprang into them. “We’re all human, Mr Dakar.”
“I hope you can forgive Jane for anything she’s done.” Stewart looked over at Dakar in surprise, the words a strange counterpoint to his bleak tone and severe expression.
Sarah-Anne snorted. “I hardly think she deserves it, Mr Dakar.”
“The forgiveness isn’t for her. It’s for you.”
Sarah-Anne gave him an odd look, then nodded slowly. “One thing I forgot to mention to you when we spoke before.”
“What’s that?”
“Someone had been in the study. Downstairs. It wasn’t ransacked, exactly, but I noticed things had been moved since when I’d gone in earlier that evening. I was doing a quick clean of the house. A couple of drawers were lying open. Daniel could have done it, I suppose, but he was hardly ever in there over the last few months. I only saw it once the police arrived. It doesn’t seem all that relevant, because it can’t have anything to do with the murder, but, well, anyway. I thought I’d mention it.”
“Anything missing?”
“Not that I know of. I mean, it’s possible. But I don’t think Daniel kept anything in there anymore.”
“Okay. Thanks for that.”
“Goodbye, Mr Dakar. Goodbye, Mr Scott.” She said Stewart’s name gratefully. Then she walked off and collected Sandra, the younger woman remonstrating to her mother but keeping her voice low.
Stewart looked over at Dakar, who watched the two women for a moment longer before turning to Stewart.
“Pretty mental, eh?”
Dakar’s face was inscrutable. He nodded once, but that was it.
Chapter 31
Stewart sat in the car, feeling worried. Very worried.
As they had made their way back to the car, Dakar had checked his phone. He had looked up with a wild look on his face, nostrils flared, swift breathing, like an animal being hunted. He looked frantically up and down the street, his eyes jumping between people.
They sat in the car now, but it had taken a few minutes before Dakar had given up on whatever he was looking for. The man remained silent. He looked around once again, then pulled away slowly from the kerb.
They got back on the M8 quickly, but neither the tension nor the silence in the car left. Dakar began driving faster and slower, seemingly randomly, overtaking a car one second and then immediately moving into the inside lane and slowing down.
Once they got past the Cathedral turn-off, Dakar’s driving evened out. For ten minutes they drove normally towards Edinburgh, the massive five- or six-lane road slowly dwindling until it hit two lanes after the Carlisle turn-off. Stewart began to relax again as they passed the Harthill services.
Then Dakar suddenly twisted the steering wheel so that they took a slip road, even although they had been almost passed it on the highway, swerving so hard that Stewart was pushed to one side of the car.
They reached a roundabout, Dakar twisting the wheel again as they screeched around, and then raced off into some wee village, Stewart missing the sign telling him what village it was as he hung on for dear life.
They raced up one little street, and then took a left at a roundabout, before Dakar had immediately done a U-turn so they had been back at the roundabout again.
Dakar raced back onto the roundabout, going straight through it, and then sharply turned left, right and one final left before he glided into a small space, and turned off the engine. The car fell silent, a complete stillness suddenly imposed, broken only by the sound of Stewart’s heavy breathing.
Stewart looked over at Dakar in the sudden silence. The guy was searching the rear view and wing mirrors with an animal intensity, his eyes flicking madly between them.
Stewart breathed out. One hand had gripped the seat belt tightly during the manoeuvres, while the other had automatically found the little grip above the door. He was holding on so hard it took a second or two to loosen his fingers. He looked over at Dakar, whose eyes were still darting between mirrors. Stewart cautiously twisted himself slightly so he could see behind them in the wing mirror next to him. There was nothing there.
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Dakar maintained his vigil. Stewart slowly, cautiously, relaxed from his status of highest alert, taking deeper breaths as the immediate possibility of a life-ending accident receded.
The minutes ticked by slowly as Stewart sat, watching Dakar. After what seemed like an eternity, Dakar spoke.
“We’re going.”
Stewart nodded once. Dakar’s tone hadn’t invited discussion.
The car took off once again, no sound as it started up and pulled away. They drove back to the roundabout, but then went through two more villages before Dakar pulled back onto the motorway and they continued back to Edinburgh.
Dakar seemed to have calmed down ag
ain, his driving within the range of sanity once again. In spite of the apparent return to normality, Stewart gripped his seatbelt tightly before he spoke.
“So, eh, what was all that about?”
But Dakar just grimaced, and shook his head. The car fell back into silence, Dakar focusing on the road. Stewart turned and looked out of the window as the Scottish countryside whipped by. He had planned to get the rest of the information about the Billy Crudup story, what it was that Frank was holding over Dakar’s head, but there was no chance of that now.
He slid out his notepad instead, making sure he could read his own handwriting and correcting a few things. He wrote some notes about the argument between Sarah-Anne and Jane, and checked his watch. It was three.
“Eh, Dakar, where are we off to now?” He thought he knew the answer already, but he didn’t fancy being presumptuous.
“To see the dentist couple. I made an appointment at four for us.” Dakar spoke flatly, still staring into his mirrors, the hunted expression in his eyes.
Stewart opened his mouth to ask more, then shut it again. He wrote down what Dakar had said, then went back to looking out of the window as the scenery whipped by.
Chapter 32
The car pulled up to a handsome building in Morningside, one of those sandstone types that people built back in the day with money made from the exploitation of other countries. Coats of arms of long-forgotten people had been carved into the wall, faded now, merging into the brickwork they once stood out against.
Stewart could smell the rain in the air, tasted that particular wind that presages a storm coming. He hurried after Dakar past a solid wooden door into a large corridor. The dental practice was on the second floor. A receptionist stood behind the desk as they entered. She was looking through some documents, but glanced up and smiled at them when they came in.
Stewart immediately found himself putting his hand up to his hair, pretending to be running his hand through it while desperately trying to pat it down. He also took a quick glance down his front, checking the suit was in order, before he looked back up at the woman.
The Price to Pay Page 17
