The Viv Fraser Mysteries Box Set 1

by V Clifford

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Viv reached her stairwell she sensed a presence. She glanced up through all six levels of landings and saw a figure leaning on the railings at the top, outside her door. She bit her cheek and prayed that it was Mac.

  As she drew nearer, Mac said, ‘How’s auntie Viv?’

  But he wasn’t alone. Sal was sitting with her back leaning against the wall. Viv’s gut tightened. She’d had enough drama for one day and couldn’t face a confrontation any time soon. Although Mac’s presence would counter the possibility of a real stooshie.

  Mac and Sal spoke at the same time. ‘You okay?’ They laughed and Sal said to Mac, ‘After you.’

  ‘Sal rang and asked if I’d meet her for something to eat.’

  Viv waved her hand. ‘No problem. Just let me get in the door. We presumably haven’t booked Bella’s yet?’

  ‘No, not yet. I’ll do it now, though.’ Mac took out his iphone and scrolled as he walked behind Viv and Sal up the hallway and into the sitting room. The room felt cramped. Mac was a big man, and although Sal was physically diminutive, intellectually and psychologically she definitely punched above her weight and having them both in her small sitting room was claustrophobic.

  ‘Give me ten minutes while I clean up. She left them standing and went straight to the bathroom, stripped off and stood under a hot shower, hoping that when she turned the water off and wandered back they’d be gone, that they’d been a figment of an overwrought imagination. She winced as shampoo stung her eyes and thought of her sister’s self-imposed situation. A baby on her own wouldn’t be a picnic. Mand couldn’t have planned it, could she? Was it actually Derek’s? Viv stood wrapped in her towel as this question sank in. She dried herself and mused that that day she had been interrogated by Mac about her possible involvement in the death of a surgeon, then suddenly had found herself thrown into the drama of a birth. Two ends of the same cycle.

  She knew that snooping around a death scene, criminal or not, wouldn’t have gone down well with Mac. But still, she was curious that there had been a PC assigned to the corridor. They wouldn’t do that unless the death was suspicious.

  She pulled on clean jodhpurs and a shirt and in that moment decided that Manda’s life was not her business. Time to back off worrying about things that she couldn’t control. She padded through to where Sal and Mac were engrossed in a news report on TV. ‘Any one hungry?’

  They both turned to her and Mac switched off the TV. ‘Let’s go.’

  Sal didn’t speak but lifted her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Viv pulled on her boots, grabbed her rucksack and jacket and all three made their way to Bella’s. Viv stared down at the wide pavement pock-marked by chewing gum, a Jackson Pollock in the making. They walked without discussing anything of consequence; there were polite enquiries about Mand and the baby, and had the Royal got its parking sorted out? They were just getting started on the new communal bins in the Grassmarket when they reached Bella’s bistro. They took a table by the window and perused the specials board. A basket of mixed breads was laid in front of them. No sooner had they each swooped on a slice when two mobiles vibrated, one immediately after the other. Viv and Sal scraped back their chairs, and furrowing their brows, made their way to the door. Mac shook his head, and scooped up another chunk of bread.

  ‘Your car or mine?’ Viv said to Sal when they had both returned. Then she gestured to Mac. ‘You coming? There’s been an incident at Sal’s cottage.’

  Mac counted out a bunch of notes and slipped them underneath the salt cellar, calling over to Bella, ‘Sorry about this, we have to go.’

  Outside on the street he caught up with them as they trotted towards Viv’s car parked at the bottom of the West Bow. ‘What now?”

  Viv replied, ‘We have to head for Doune asap.’

  ‘Do you need me?’

  Viv nodded. ‘Always, Mac. Always.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll take my own car. Sal, you happy to leave yours at Fettes?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll hitch with Viv. Follow us. There’s been a fire at the cottage. Not looking like an accident. Moll’s . . .’ She shook her head and jumped into the Rav.

  Viv’s knuckles were white with rage at the thought of anyone hurting the dog. Viv wasn’t one for interference in the life of the underdog, but a real dog was a whole different thing. She put her foot to the floor and broke every speed limit until they screeched to a halt in Doune, forty-five minutes later. The roar of the diesel engine on the fire truck and the din of voices shouting were alarming. Viv racked her brain. Who would harm Sal? Or had this been meant for her?

  They ran towards the house and heard barking. Brian stepped round from the side porch with Molly, straining at a leash. Sal dropped to her knees and cuddled Moll before tearfully asking what had happened.

  Mac joined them. ‘Here, everyone, slip these on.’ He handed them little crime scene bootees and latex gloves. ‘We wouldn’t want evidence to be destroyed now, would we?’

  Booted and gloved they wandered round the perimeter of the house. Viv handed Sal a torch, Mac had his own but it was almost impossible to see amongst the mature trees and bushes overhanging the drive and garden.

  The cottage only had one ordinary vehicle entrance. From the fields anyone could get access if they were on foot, or on a very noisy quadbike. To the right of the house the land fell steeply towards the Ardoch burn. Someone could easily scramble up there, but why would they? The people in the old house shared an entrance with Sal, but had another drive on the Dunblane road. Those gates were locked at night, and would require serious climbing skills to scale; besides they were entirely visible from the road so not worth the risk. At the bottom of the shared drive lay the Historic Scotland yard. Once a mill, its high perimeter walls and the Ardoch burn were deterrents to anyone trying to access Sal’s from there. On the south side the quarry park followed the burn towards the Teith, which was an obvious escape route for anyone on foot, although with both rivers in spate not the easiest option. Could someone just stroll up the drive and set the place alight?

  Viv heard one of the fire officers shouting to the chief. So she made her way to where he was and waited for the other guy to join him. The flames had licked their way round the stone base of the conservatory and the heat had caused a few of the windows to shatter. But it couldn’t have burned for long because she could still see the colour of the paintwork on the frame. It was blistered but not completely charred. Amateur stuff. The smell of petrol lingered on the gravel. The officer held up a small canister to his boss.

  Viv stretched her hand out inquiringly, but the chief wasn’t having it. ‘And who might you be?’

  Mac called from a short distance away. ‘She’s with the police!’ Not entirely true for tonight’s escapade, but she liked it when Mac stretched his principles. ‘What have you got there?’

  The chief grudgingly handed the canister to Mac and said, ‘Generic kind of thing. Found in every garage. Was over the edge of the bank there.’ He pointed to the steep banking leading to the Ardoch.

  Mac replied, ‘Generic it may be, but it’ll have a production number on the base. If we find one locally that’s in the same sequence, we’ll have a lot less looking to do.’

  The chief conceded and Viv and Mac strolled to the front of the house where the porch light made it easier to check for a number.

  Mac patted his pockets. ‘I’ve left my phone in the car.’

  ‘I’ll get it. Is it on the seat?’

  Mac nodded to Viv, ‘Front of the dash. That’d be great.’ He continued to examine the base of the canister. Sure enough there was a number but not clearly visible in the poor light. ‘Sal!’ He shouted. ‘You got a magnifying glass anywhere that’s handy?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll get it.’ She trotted up the steps of the front porch and in through the front door. Just about to step on an envelope she called back to Mac. ‘Maybe have something here.’

  Mac took the envelope by the corner and turned it ove
r. Nothing written on either side. ‘Who delivers a blank envelope?’

  Sal shook her head. ‘No idea. But whoever it was has been here in the last three hours . . .’

  A piercing scream from the drive had Mac and Sal bolting in the direction of the cars. They found Viv sprawled on her back in a hawthorn bush. ‘He went that way,’ she yelled, pointing to the yard. ‘There’s no way out on foot, the river’s too high.’

  Mac tore round into the courtyard but couldn’t see anyone and noticed all the outbuildings were closed up. He began checking the doors and spotted one with a loose padlock, which he approached cautiously. As he pulled at a latch, a set of headlights on high beam emerged from a lock-up on the other side of the yard, blinding Mac, and a vehicle screeched off at speed. He raced after it but failed to catch the registration.

  He walked back to the entrance, where Viv stood brushing herself down with one hand, and holding up a phone in her other. ‘Think I got it. It’ll be blurred but the techies will sort that. What a friggin’ nerve they’ve got. Waiting around while all this,’ she gestured at the fire engine, the police car and their own cars, ‘is going on. They were here watching us when we arrived . . . He tried to lift me. Big mistake. I kicked his shins and punched wherever I could. Arse. I also bit his hand – again. That’s if it’s the same guy. I mean are we talking brass-necked sod or what?’

  Mac seethed. ‘They’re playing a dangerous game now. The odd stone toppling, the odd hotel window breaking, is a lot different to torching someone’s home. Whether it was occupied or not doesn’t matter.’ He shook his head and rubbed both his hands over his face.

  Not familiar with this Mac, Viv said, ‘Look at least we’ve got the reg or a partial on it. But are you seeing a connection to Sanchez as well? This is all a wee bit mad. By the way what’s that?’ Viv pointed to the envelope that he still held in his hand.

  ‘Don’t know yet. It was on the floor of the cottage. Nothing written on the front.’ He took out a small bunch of keys and slid one of them along the edge of the envelope. He pulled out a single sheet with tightly spaced, hand written lines on one side. ‘We’ll read this when we go inside.’ He put it back into the envelope and then into an inside pocket of his jacket. ‘One thing, though. If they’d been intent on burning down the building they wouldn’t have put a note through the door. So either this is from someone else, or we’re dealing with someone who’s as thick as pig shit.’

  Viv raised her eyebrows.

  ‘No point in looking at me like that. Let’s try and get a proper description of whoever is throwing their weight around. The guy outside your flat was a huge athletic type who could have crushed you like a bug, so we don’t want you going after him on your tod.’

  ‘Give me some credit. There are ways to disable the mighty.’

  He looked at her. ‘Yeah, but only if you’re prepared for them. You didn’t expect that just now, did you? As for your training . . . never mind, it would be better if you weren’t under threat at all, then you wouldn’t have to be punching and kicking some stranger trying to abduct you. And by the way, always, I repeat, always, call for help.’

  ‘What, you mean like just now when I screamed as he dumped me there?’ She pointed at the hawthorn.

  ‘So it was definitely a he and not a female dressed up as a he?’

  ‘No, too bulky, hands like shovels. Just like the first time. I’m guessing same guy.’

  The fire brigade had packed up and was beginning the precarious reverse down the drive. Inch by inch they steered the huge engine down the narrow path, the top of the driver’s cabin whacking over-hanging branches, scattering twigs and leaves as they went. Once at the estate entrance they drove into the mill’s courtyard, the only place for them to turn if they were not to reverse all the way to the main road. Viv, Sal and Mac waved them off then wandered up to the cottage and round to the conservatory. It was a mess, but could have been a whole lot worse had Brian not been out doing his rounds. Another reprieve for the sneaky fox, who’d recently killed four chickens up at the Old House.

  Sal said, ‘Thank God that Brian isn’t the kind of bloke who sits on the couch nursing the remote. He’s out and about in all weathers.’

  Viv shared this sentiment.

  Molly lay with her head on her front paws, her lead hooped over a tree root at the top of the garden the only obstacle to her running towards them.

  Sal wandered towards her and she bounced to her feet expectantly. ‘Why don’t you guys go inside and find something to eat or drink and I’ll give her a walk.’

  In unison Viv and Mac replied, ‘As if!’

  ‘We’ll all go. We could use the thinking time.’ Mac shrugged. ‘What the hell? I’ve done nothing I’d planned for this weekend and it’ll soon be over.’

  Viv glanced over her shoulder at him. ‘Me either, but we’ve not been idle. Here.’ She handed Mac her phone with the registration number on it, ‘We should phone that in.’

  Mac took the phone, ‘That’ll be the royal we.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sky had cleared to reveal a spectacular moon. They stepped over the stile into the field and strode out towards the riverbank with Molly running ahead, relieved to be off her leash.

  ‘Interesting, that whoever they are, they seem to turn up when either there’s only one person about, or no one. Makes me think they wouldn’t take us on collectively.’

  Mac cleared his throat, ‘That doesn’t make sense, Viv. On Inchmaholme there were lots of people milling about. In fact that rock could have damaged any one of us . . . Although I’m beginning to think that it was a fluke. There is every chance that the lump of masonry was placed back there by mistake and the mason forgot to mortar it in.’ Mac shrugged. ‘Still, not convinced by my own rhetoric.’

  Sal sniffed and added, ‘We still don’t know who the target is. Let’s see, there’s been the falling stone, a broken window, the tyre − we mustn’t lose sight of the tyre. Those all happened in the same area so that’s the first connection. But the two attacks on Viv could have been meant for either of us.’

  With every step Viv drew in another lungful of organic dampness. The whiff of mashed grass and the gurgling burn were definitely bugging her. A fox barked in the distance and Moll took off towards the noise. Sal whistled and after a wide sweep of the field Moll returned to heel. Viv hadn’t been confident to let her go running off, and this was probably the first time since Sal’s return that the dog had had a decent run.

  ‘Who are our enemies?’ Viv blurted into the moonlight.

  Mac and Sal stopped and stared at her.

  She stared right back. ‘What are you gawking at? Well, we all have them. None of us has to dig too deep to find them. These attacks are determined. They’re not just for a bit of a laugh. Okay, so nobody died, but that needs to be qualified by ‘yet’ in brackets. Basically anyone whose nose we’ve put out of joint, either recently or in the dim and distant. We’ll have to think hard. Because the thing is, we may not even know that we’ve done anything wrong. We, as they say, cannot give offence but people take offence as sure as the sun rises. And don’t look at me as if I’ve lost the plot. Unless you’ve got better suggestions . . . Let’s go through them one by one. You first, Mac.’

  ‘You’re mad. I couldn’t begin to list the people who might have a grudge against me. There are hundreds and that’s just the personal ones. Don’t get me started on the professional crazies. My inbox is FTB with threats from nutters who’d like my head on a chopping block. But seriously . . .’ He sighed. ‘You are serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course I’m friggin’ serious. We’ve all had incidents in the last couple of days, and they could have been a whole lot uglier than they turned out. Now if I’m not mistaken; if these “accidents”,’ she signed inverted commas, ‘had happened to anyone else, we’d have a team working out who the sods are.’ She shook her head. ‘You know what. Fuck this. I’m heading home. This country air is doing bad things to my brain.�
� She sank her hands into her pockets and stomped off towards the cottage. Mac and Sal were behind her while Moll ran ahead.

  ‘Wait, Viv,’ Mac shouted. ‘We’re all after the same thing.’

  Viv stopped and turned. ‘I know. But I need to get back to town.’ She rubbed her hands roughly through her hair. The more the idea of fleeing burrowed into her mind, the more desperate she was to just get in the car and go. There was nothing she could do to help from here that she couldn’t do from the flat. Besides if she went home they’d soon find out who the target was. Such a brazen attacker was bound to try again.

  As she walked she threw over her shoulder, ‘Well, let’s start with the last three months. There’s obviously someone, or maybe two people, who want us to sit up and pay attention. They’ve been willing to get themselves up to Doune, and maybe as far as the island. We mustn’t forget that.’ directing her comment at Mac.

  ‘Sure we can’t but . . .’ Mac lowered his voice. ‘Wait!’

  Viv and Sal stopped dead and followed the line of his gaze. To their right, a large expanse of field led to the base of a hill, crowned by a small copse. Mac shook his head and kept staring at the copse. ‘I thought I heard something coming from up there.’ He pointed to the crest. ‘Stay here and I’ll go and take a look.’

  Sal clipped Molly into her leash and rubbed the dog’s ears. She and Viv stood awkwardly, as Mac strode off towards the phantom in the trees. Neither spoke, just watched as Mac’s shadow fell, like a monster from an animation: huge, long and bulky, stretching way beyond human proportions.

  Viv whispered, ‘I think we all need a break from this. He’s probably started seeing things now.’ She smiled at Sal, but she didn’t respond.

  After a few minutes of silence Sal nudged Viv’s arm. ‘I think I’ve got an idea of who might be behind this.’