The Viv Fraser Mysteries Box Set 1

by V Clifford

  Viv interrupted. ‘What hall and where is it?’ She started the engine. ‘Do you know how to get there from here?’

  ‘I could try. I only know because we all went in Tess’s dad’s car to church and the hall is at the back. I think we carry on along this road and at some point turn left toward,’ she pointed, ‘that hill.’

  Viv drove slowly, hoping that Rebecca would continue to tell her story, but she started sobbing again. Viv’s mum’s voice echoed in her head, ‘Let her have her greet.’ A nugget of wisdom finding its way up through her mother’s verbal garbage.

  After about a mile there was a turning on the left and Viv gestured at it, but Rebecca shook her head. Same for the next turning, but at the third Beccs lifted her head and nodded. They wound their way up a steep single-track road until it flattened out. Viv couldn’t see anything on the horizon except a single cottage off to the right. It was properly dark and Viv was sure that the road was traversing a bog. Tough-looking reeds encroached onto the passing places and there wasn’t anywhere that they could turn if they needed to. Viv said, ‘Are you sure about this?’

  Beccs scrabbled about in the pocket of her trousers and pulled out another handkerchief that looked well past its sell-by date. ‘Yes. I’m almost sure this is it. We came in the daylight but I remember that steep brae and this moor. Just keep going.’

  Viv thought she’d caught something odd in Rebecca’s tone but put it down to nerves. The occasional light on the horizon meant that there was some life out there. When they ran out of tarmac, Viv thanked God for the Rav’s high-performance tyres. The track became rutted, the potholes filled with granite chips. Beccs picked at her nails while scanning the horizon. After a few minutes she put up her hand. ‘Wait. That could be it. ‘

  Across the moor a shadowed outline of a large building came into view. Viv glanced at Beccs. ‘You sure?’

  Beccs retorted. ‘No, I’m not fucking sure. Have you got a better suggestion?’

  Viv sighed and slowed the car. ‘Calm down. I’m only asking.’

  The buildings were in complete darkness. Viv pulled into the next passing place and switched off the engine. ‘Doesn’t look as if there’s much action going on.’ She leant over the steering wheel and tried to work out if there was somewhere to turn if she took the car any further. She decided that it wasn’t worth it. She jumped out and indicated to Beccs to do the same. ‘Come on. Let’s take a look.’

  Viv patted down her pockets, checking again for the usual tools: torch, picks, army knife. When she was satisfied that all were present, she stopped herself pressing the fob to lock the Rav and set off ahead of her companion. The track they’d just driven was rough but the one to the church hall was much worse. She was tempted to lead them over the field but her torch beam caught the reeds of a small pond and she edged back onto the track. Better safe than stuck in a peat bog. Rebecca lagged behind, but when Viv turned to reassure her Rebecca didn’t look much like she needed it.

  Viv stopped. ‘What’s going on, Rebecca?’

  Rebecca also stopped. ‘Nothing. Nothing’s going on.’ Her tone was all wrong.

  ‘No?’ Viv put her hands on her hips. ‘Okay. I guess you’re taking the piss. But I’m the one with the car keys so you’re not going anywhere soon without me.’

  Beccs shrugged. ‘I’ve walked further than this loads of times.’

  Whatever she was up to it would seem that Tess was not at the top of her agenda. But who was? Was it Simon? Viv continued walking towards the church and threw over her shoulder, ‘You could live to regret this. If Tess doesn’t survive this game of yours, you, at the very least, will be an accessory to murder.’ She didn’t turn to see what affect this had, but continued towards the front door of the church. She hoped that using the word murder would give Beccs a wake up call.

  Viv’s torch flashed over the concrete slab steps leading up to the door and she scratched her head. With this movement she threw light up into a tiny bell tower, causing the flapping of wings to break the dense silence. Her worst nightmare, or one of them, was having a bat caught in her hair and she quickly put her arm over the top of her head until the flapping stopped.

  Patches of grey harling that remained on the walls were stained with rust from old iron downpipes. It was such an ugly grey box that Viv couldn’t imagine anyone being spiritually inspired here. She turned the handle and was surprised when the door shifted and scraped along the floor until there was enough space for her to squeeze inside. She ran her fingers along the wall for a light switch but didn’t find one.

  Her torch-beam didn’t reveal much in the cavernous space. No pews, only stacks of chairs lined up against the walls. Her footfall echoed on the wooden floor as she made her way to another door at the back. A musty smell laced with disinfectant reminded her of primary school. A vision of Ronnie Robinson’s vomit on the gym floor covered by sawdust ran through her mind. No indication that Rebecca was trailing her.

  There wasn’t even a pulpit, only a low platform where, Viv guessed, the pastor gave his sermons. Viv hated buildings where the windows denied you a view of the world beyond. It made her think of a Victorian schoolroom where anything outside was regarded as a distraction rather than an inspiration.

  She flicked the torch round the room again and began to retrace her steps. Then she spotted the remains of ‘Vestry’ written in barely visible gold paint on the inner door. Someone had had a good go at removing it. Viv tried the door, but although it sounded as if the lock was moving there was something jamming it. She pushed with her shoulder and it moved a couple of millimetres. There was no way she was going to move this by herself and little chance that Beccs would lend a hand so she headed back to the front door.

  Beccs was leaning against the wall playing with her mobile.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’d give me a hand moving the door in there?’ She thumbed toward the inside of the church. Beccs didn’t even look up.

  ‘Rebecca! Did you hear me?’

  She looked indignant but still didn’t speak. Viv took in a huge breath then let it go slowly. Instead of giving Beccs the good shake she’d like to Viv made her way round to the back trying to visualise the position of the jammed door. The windows were too high up to allow a view of the inside.

  At a guess, the main building was nineteen thirties, and the hall a seventies addition. But there was an even newer annexe, a glass box which connected the hall to the church. When Viv ran her torch round the glass corridor, it appeared to double as a Sunday School room. Low plastic tables and chairs with drawing materials were arranged along one side. A door at one end led into the church through the defunct vestry; a second, at the opposite end, opened into the new hall, another ugly grey box, this time with a flat roof.

  Viv edged round the perimeter on a pebbled pathway in search of another entrance. She found the fire exit, which had no external lock to pick. To the right of the door there stood an industrial sized bin. She checked inside but it contained only a couple of supermarket bags, used teabags and the wrappers from two large packets of digestives. Not a sign of anyone battening down for the duration. Viv retraced her steps to the front of the church. Beccs was stamping her feet and rubbing her hands against her upper arms.

  The sound of a vehicle approaching made them both turn towards the noise. Whatever it was the engine struggled with the brae but then, grateful for the reprieve of flatter land, it purred back to normal. One dim headlamp wove its way across the winding road on the moor, passing the turn-off to the church and continuing on its way.

  Viv glanced at Beccs, who was pretending not to have noticed either the car or Viv’s return. Viv snorted and took off at a jog towards the Rav. As she switched the engine on she looked back and watched the silhouette of Rebecca on her mobile. Pissed off, she reversed the Rav onto the rough track and drove back the way she had come. If Beccs was used to walking further then she’d have no difficulty in doing it again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Mac!’ Viv sh
outed into her mobile.

  Nothing.

  ‘Mac!’

  Again, nothing.

  Then a female voice that Viv didn’t recognise, said, ‘Hello? Hello?’

  ‘Who am I speaking to? I’m looking for DI Marconi.’

  ‘I’m his PA. He’s in a meeting, but left his phone in his jacket. D’you want me to get him for you?’

  ‘PA? I didn’t know . . . I need to speak to him. It’s urgent. Tell him it’s Viv and it’s to do with Tessa.’

  The woman said, ‘I’ll take the phone with me.’

  Viv heard footsteps clicking along a corridor and felt a pang of jealousy. Then she heard a tap on a door. Viv visualised where she could be in Fettes.

  ‘I’m looking for DI Marconi.’

  A cacophony of voices indicated that they too would like to know where he was.

  The woman spoke into the phone again. ‘Hello. You probably heard that. I don’t know where he’s gone. Shall I try his special line?’

  Viv, ignorant of this line, raised her eyebrows. ‘If you would.’

  ‘You want to hold or will I get him to ring you back?’

  Viv chewed the edge of her lip and replied, ‘I’ll hold on.’ As soon as she heard Mac’s voice she shouted, ‘Thank God! Where have you been?’

  ‘Where the hell are you, Viv? I’ve been trying to phone you and it’s been engaged for about two hours.’

  ‘I’m in Aberdeen.’

  ‘What . . . ’

  She interrupted him. ‘Before you start bawling at me just listen. Rebecca said she’d help so we got into the car and drove. We’ve ended up at the church that Tess’s family use. There’s nothing doing here and I think that Rebecca’s just been taking the piss. She took me to the house first but there were cars that I thought must be Grampian police but couldn’t be sure. Anyway she suggested we go take a look at the church. Which was a spoof. I’m guessing she’s in cahoots with Tess’s brother and he has Tess somewhere on or near the farm.’

  Mac interrupted. ‘The Aberdeen guys have searched the farm and there’s nothing there. You need to back off. I’ll phone them and tell them what you’ve told me. Is Rebecca with you now?’

  ‘Not a chance. She was completely pissing me off so I left her at the church. It’s a bit of a walk but nothing she can’t handle.’

  ‘But Viv, if he does have Tess, or has had her, and he knows that Rebecca is about, what’s to stop him getting to her too? She’s just a pawn. Surely you can see that. If this is about what I think it is, he’ll no more want Rebecca than his sister. He wants rid of both of them. Christ, Viv, get back out there and pick her up.’

  Viv didn’t need a second telling. She sped back to where she had left the girl and caught Beccs in her headlights walking along the track. When she reached her she wound down the window and said, ‘Want a lift?’

  Rebecca shook her head.

  ‘Look. Just get in. I’ll drop you wherever you like.’ She brought the Rav to a halt, and Beccs sulkily got in. ‘Dump me back down on the main road.’

  That would never happen. But Viv nodded and they drove in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the main road before Rebecca said, ‘This’ll do.’

  Viv slowed the car but didn’t pull over. ‘Look, Rebecca, whatever he’s told you he won’t stop at harming his sister. If that’s what’s happened?’ This was a question but Beccs didn’t pick it up. Viv continued. ‘You’re an intelligent woman. If Simon was upset with Tess and willing to do this to me, someone who was only having a look around . . .’ She pulled down her collar again. Rebecca didn’t flinch this time.

  Viv continued. ‘What has he told you? If he’s told you he wants you, you mustn’t believe him. He’s not a good guy. If he was a good person he wouldn’t be all wound up about you and Tess being more than friends.’ This struck the wrong note.

  ‘So what if we were more than friends? It was only once.’

  Viv remembered the cosy set-up at the flat. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

  At this Rebecca swung round in her seat and Viv braced herself. The girl shouted, ‘How dare you tell me what is and isn’t shameful. I’m going to have an easy life not a life that’s complicated by filth.’ She spat out this last word and Viv couldn’t let that go. ‘Filth? How can you say that? Two people loving each other isn’t filth. I thought you were doing psychology. You must know that there are nutcases out there who will use any argument to back up their prejudices . . . ’ She shook her head and stopped abruptly.

  Rebecca’s eyebrows knitted, and she pushed up her sleeve to rub her arm. Viv glimpsed scars on her shiny white wrist. Suddenly the depth of the girl’s self-hatred was staring her in the face and Viv reminded herself to go gently. ‘Okay. Say he does want you. It would still be better if you were together without anyone being hurt in the process.’

  Rebecca didn’t answer. Viv went on. ‘I take it he’s been in touch?’ Still no answer. Then Rebecca’s phone vibrated. She checked the caller’s number and hesitated. Viv watched as her finger hovered over the answer button. Seconds passed before she put her phone back into her pocket.

  As they approached the turn-off to Tess’s family home Viv noticed a downstairs light going out. She braked and pulled into the side. Beccs made to open the door but something prevented her from leaping out. She leaned forward and pinned her eyes on a movement outside the farmhouse. ‘It’s him.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. It’s definitely Simon.’

  Viv couldn’t get her head round this. There was a police presence there less than an hour ago, and now he was brazenly wandering around the house. He had to be mad. Within a minute or so the sound of an engine starting broke the tension inside the car. A rasping noise, like a serious motorbike, filled the air, but when headlights appeared between the house and the barn they belonged to a quad-bike. Whether the driver was Simon or not he was making his way towards the steep hill at the back of the farm.

  Viv pulled out from the verge and turned up the drive to the house. She’d expected to see some evidence of police activity but there was nothing, but why would there be? There was no body – yet. The only crime that had been committed so far was someone bashing her on the head, and the culprit was in custody. Or was he? Mac would surely have said if they’d let him go? Viv cut the engine and they both jumped out and stood listening to the quad’s engine fading into the distance. Viv guessed that if the rider needed a quad-bike to get to where he was going there probably wasn’t a smooth way out. No hurry to follow him.

  Viv stepped through the garden gate onto the gravel, passing a curtain-less bay window before she reached the front door. When she pushed the door, it gave. She stretched in to the right for the light switch but didn’t enter. Just inside the door a few lumps of mud still holding the shape of a thick tread lay in perfect formation. Someone had left a trail that lead off to the right into what appeared to be a kitchen. Viv slipped out her phone, crouched down and took a photograph before lifting a cake of mud and waving it under her nose. It was peaty mud. Rebecca, a few steps behind her, screwed up her own nose and said, ‘What the hell are you doing with that?’

  Viv ignored her, took out a tiny poly bag from her inside pocket, and tipped the crumbling mud into it. Nothing ventured and all that. ‘Well, Rebecca. Are we going up the hill or what?’ ‘I don’t see why we need to do that.’

  ‘Not keen to see Simon after all?’ Viv fastened her jacket, closed the house door then retraced her steps to the car. She turned and stared at Rebecca, whose hands were deep in her jacket pockets and her mouth covered by her scarf.

  ‘Your call . . . You know, I can’t make you out. Even if things were not working with you and Tess, there’s no need to become a criminal over some bloke who’s clearly unhinged, and if I’m right, not really interested in you or anyone but himself.’

  Rebecca didn’t reply but turned away and walked down the track towards the main road.

  Chapter Twenty-T
wo

  Viv jumped into the Rav and followed the track behind the farm round the contour of the hill. It was bumpier than it looked from below and she slowed to second gear. With her headlights off it was a serious challenge for her night vision but her eyes gradually began to adjust to the dark and she sat back trying to imagine what could be up ahead. She reset the mileage so that she could keep track of how far she’d gone and sat forward, peering vainly into the distance. The clouds began breaking up, and a sliver of a new moon made an appearance – not enough to create decent light. Viv put the window down and drew in the smell of the moist earth. The front wheels hit a pothole and the Rav shuddered to regain stability.

  This had probably been a drovers’ road at one time. An offshoot of it appeared to continue up over the top, possibly reaching one thousand feet, following the line of a crumbling stone parish boundary. If she hadn’t been anticipating trouble this would be a lovely place to spend time, night or day. The still night air must surely have amplified the thrum of her engine, but there was not a blind thing she could do about that.

  The sound of the quad-bike had gone. Almost a mile beyond the farm the din as she rolled across a cattle-grid shook her to the core. It was the best early warning signal a man could have. The road continued to undulate, at one point flattening out into a strath with a fast-running burn splashing on her left. Up ahead she caught a reflection of light onto a large body of water.

  There was no passing place so she did a two-hundred-point turn, with her heart in her mouth as she skimmed the ditch. She managed to switch the engine off with the wheels facing down in the direction of the farm. She’d have to cover the rest of the way on foot. It was further than it looked and after ten minutes of striding out she had to loosen her scarf and undo her top button. The light was coming from a cottage nestled at the end of the reservoir. It could have been the scene on a chocolate box with its windows lit up and a thin line of smoke rising from a single chimney.