* * *
Susan was waiting in a bus shelter as Clare and Chris approached. She peered in the car to make sure it was them, then climbed in the back.
‘Susan,’ Clare said, turning in her seat. ‘Something wrong?’
‘You’re an Inspector, right? Detective Inspector?’
Clare said that she was.
‘So you can make things happen?’
Clare wondered where Susan was going with this. ‘Well, it depends…’
‘I want you to get me a house. Somewhere away from here. Fife, maybe. And I want you to help me get Paige back.’
Clare blinked. ‘You don’t want much, do you? What makes you think I can do these things? I’m hardly the person to judge if you should have your daughter back. I doubt the court would even listen to me.’
But Susan wasn’t to be put off. ‘I saw you,’ she said. ‘When I showed you the house. You knew I meant what I said about being a good mum to Paige. You saw how I was.’
‘That’s true,’ Clare conceded. ‘I was impressed with what you’ve done in your flat. For what it’s worth, I hope you get her back.’
‘I want you to help me get her.’
‘Susan, I don’t see—’
‘Listen.’ Susan checked the rear window of the car then looked back at Clare. ‘I want you to help me because, if you do that for me, I’ll give you Ronnie Tennant. On a plate. I’ll give you enough to put him away for years.’
* * *
Clare and Chris were driving down the Marketgait in Dundee, heading for the Tay Road Bridge, when her phone rang again.
It was Matt. ‘Clare, I’m heading over to Dundee. Better get yourself up to Templeton Woods.’
‘The Audi?’ Clare said.
‘Afraid so.’
* * *
Clare and Chris pulled on overshoes and stepped gingerly past the cordon. The Audi was a sorry sight, the front crumpled where it had hit a tree. The airbags which had inflated on impact now hung limply around the interior and the windows were obscured by condensation.
A SOCO officer approached Clare with a sealed plastic bag containing a mobile phone. ‘Found it in the sunglasses compartment.’
Clare took the phone and thanked him. ‘Can I see, please?’
The SOCO officer led her over to the back of the car. ‘No touching, though. We’re still taking swabs.’
They peered into the boot. Despite the condition of the car, the interior lights still worked. Clare knew what it contained before she looked. The stench was unmistakeable. She bent over the curled-up, bloodied body of Lisa Mitchell. Suddenly she turned and ran, through the cordon and into the trees. With one hand on a branch to support herself, she retched and vomited until there was nothing left to come up. She could hear the sound she made cutting through the quiet country air and she wondered if they were all listening – laughing, maybe. Only there was nothing funny about the sight of Lisa Mitchell’s body.
She stood, head bent for a minute or two then, when she felt the heaving subside, she raised her head and took some deep breaths. She walked, numb, towards her car and took out a bottle of water. Leaning against the car for support, she swilled and spat away the sour taste. Then she drew a hand across her face and walked slowly back to the edge of the cordon where the SOCO officer and Chris stood watching her.
‘Boss?’ Chris said, worry written all over his face.
‘I’m fine.’ She glanced at the SOCO officer. ‘Sorry. Just that smell.’
He shook his head. ‘It never gets any easier.’
Clare sighed. ‘We’ll have to let the husband know. How long until you’ll have her back at the mortuary?’
The SOCO checked his watch. ‘Probably teatime. Say six to be sure. But you might want to wait until they’ve tidied her up a bit. She’s not a pretty sight.’
‘Cause of death?’
‘You should know better than to ask, Inspector.’
‘Yeah, I know, but…’
‘Well, judging by the blood loss, I’d guess she’s been stabbed. But we won’t know until the PM’s been carried out. I’ll get the office to phone as soon as she’s presentable though, so you can have her identified.’
Matt drew up as Clare and Chris were heading back to the car. ‘Do we know who it is?’
Clare sighed. ‘Lisa Mitchell, our missing baby’s mother.’
‘Shit. Any sign of the baby in the car?’
‘Nope.’
‘Well that’s something,’ Matt said. ‘Until we find a body, there’s hope.’
‘Except that Abi was taken to send a warning to Lisa. If there’s no Lisa to warn, they’ve nothing to gain by keeping Abi alive.’
Chris looked at his watch. ‘What do you want to do now, Clare?’
Clare’s lips tightened. ‘I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, Chris. We’re going to sort Susan Clancy out and nail that bastard Ronnie Tennant. I’ll see him behind bars if it’s the last thing I do.’
* * *
They drove back in silence. They were across the river and into Fife before Chris spoke.
‘There’s something I don’t get.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Paul Sinclair’s phone. What was it doing in Lisa Mitchell’s car?’
Clare glanced at him. ‘I’ve been wondering that myself.’
‘I mean, Paul died on Monday night. Now we know Lisa wasn’t involved. She’s had somebody with her every minute until she disappeared on Tuesday.’
Clare signalled left at the Forgan roundabout and took the road for St Andrews. ‘It’s Ronnie Tennant. Has to be. He had her car keys according to our joyrider.’
Chris shook his head. ‘I can’t think straight on this one. I mean, I get why Ronnie might have killed Paul: either Paul got greedy or Ronnie got scared.’
‘Yeah, that sounds feasible.’
‘But the phone. Why did Ronnie not just smash it? Or chuck it in the river. Why keep it?’
Clare stopped the car at a set of temporary traffic lights which had been erected just outside Leuchars. ‘Maybe it has information Ronnie wanted.’
‘You mean drug customers?’
‘Yeah, could be.’
A beep from behind alerted Clare to the lights, which had gone green. She raised her hand in apology and pulled away.
‘Still doesn’t explain why we found it in Lisa Mitchell’s car,’ she said.
Chris began drumming his fingers on the dashboard.
Clare glowered at him.
‘Helps me think,’ he said. ‘Right. Let’s assume Paul Sinclair and Lisa Mitchell were both killed by Ronnie.’
‘But why, Chris? Why would Ronnie kill Lisa? Abi is his bargaining chip. Why kill her mother? If he wanted Lisa out of the way it would have been a hell of a lot easier just to kill her. If that was his plan, why take Abi?’
‘Give me a minute. I’m thinking it through.’ Chris was silent again. Then he said, ‘Right, try this: Ronnie kills Paul on Monday night, okay?’
‘Yeah…’
‘Then, on Tuesday, after the press conference, Lisa Mitchell phones Val who tells her she thinks Ronnie is the kidnapper.’
‘Okay.’ Clare saw what he was thinking. ‘So Lisa heads out after Ronnie. Turns up at his house near the park, maybe shouting loud enough for the neighbours to hear. Ronnie tries to shut her up and there’s a struggle. Ronnie kills her. Maybe he means to, maybe not. Either way, she’s dead. So he waits until it’s dark, then bundles her into the boot of her own car.’
‘Hell of a risk,’ Chris said. ‘It’s a residential street.’
‘Yeah, but if he waited until the early hours there wouldn’t be anyone about. Remember, most of the residents go out to work. They’d have been in bed, asleep.’
‘Fair enough. But why put Paul’s phone in the car?’
It was starting to rain again. Clare switched on the windscreen wipers and winced as they squeaked rhythmically. ‘We keep coming back to that phone. It doesn’t make any sense.’
&nbs
p; Then Chris slapped the dashboard. ‘Got it.’
‘Go on.’
‘Our two joyriders. If we’re right in thinking Ronnie set them up, leaving the car keys where he knew they’d be nicked…’
‘He’d reckon on us picking them up, hopefully while they still had Paul’s phone on them,’ Clare finished. ‘Their DNA would be in the car and their prints on the phone. With Lisa’s body in the boot, we’d charge them with the lot.’
Chris gave a low whistle. ‘He’s a cunning bastard.’
Clare’s lips tightened. ‘He is. But we have Susan Clancy now. And I reckon if anyone’s a match for Ronnie Tennant, it’s her.’
* * *
Clare, Matt and Amy gathered in Clare’s office.
‘What’s this?’ Tony said. ‘A mothers’ meeting?’
‘Time to earn that promotion, Tony,’ Clare said.
‘Okay.’ He looked at the three of them. ‘What’s going on?’
Clare related her interview with Val Docherty. ‘The man we’re after is Ronnie Tennant. House in Bingham Terrace in Dundee. According to what Amy’s told us, he’s the main supplier of drugs in the city. And beyond.’
‘We’ve been after him for months,’ Amy said. ‘He’s bad news and he’s getting more powerful every day. Drugs is only the half of it and we have a real chance of nailing him now.’ She looked at Clare, who took the cue.
‘I think Ronnie Tennant is behind the kidnapping of Abigail Mitchell and probably the murders of Paul Sinclair and now Lisa Mitchell.’
Tony swore under his breath. ‘You’ve found her?’
‘Afraid so. In the boot of her own car.’
‘Told the husband?’
‘Not yet. That’s next. But, before I do, I need you to start calling in favours.’
‘Explain.’
Clare began telling him about Susan Clancy. ‘She blames Ronnie Tennant for her own drug problems, for losing her daughter. Anyway, she’s clean now…’
‘So she says.’
‘I believe her. Says she’ll take a drug test. And she’s offered to hand Ronnie to us. She says she knows where he keeps the drugs, where they’re sold, who works for him. Enough for us to put him away.’
‘It’s her word against his, though,’ Tony said. ‘An ex-addict versus what you say is a powerful local guy with no previous.’
‘She says she has photos of him with known pushers and, crucially, at the places where he keeps his stock.’
Amy said, ‘Tony, this is the closest we’ve come to nailing him. We can’t pass this up.’
‘Okay,’ Tony agreed. ‘Bring her in and take a statement. Once we see what she has to say for herself, we’ll pick him up.’
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that,’ Clare said. ‘She has certain conditions.’
‘Oh, does she, now? Like what?’
‘If she gives us Ronnie and his network of contacts, she’ll be finished in Dundee. We’ll need to get her out of Alderwood. She won’t be safe. She’ll need a new address. Now, for all we know, Ronnie has contacts in the housing department. So it has to be a private let. As low-key as possible.’
Tony shook his head. ‘Far easier to stick a couple of uniforms outside her flat until we’ve picked up Ronnie and whoever else we can nail.’
‘Too risky,’ Clare said. ‘She’s currently fighting to have her little girl returned to her. Says she’s clean and, having seen her flat and all the work she’s put into it, I believe her. She wants us to help get her daughter back. So she needs out of Alderwood.’
‘No way Social Work will give her the kid back if she’s at risk of reprisals.’
‘I know that,’ Clare said. ‘But if she knows as much as she claims, we can move her to somewhere she’ll be safe and put the whole lot of them behind bars. Then she can start a new life in Fife with her daughter.’
Tony frowned. ‘And she won’t testify otherwise?’
‘Nope.’
He pressed his hands together, quiet for a few minutes. ‘It’s a hell of a risk.’
‘Right now, we don’t have much else to go on. We need Susan’s testimony.’
He nodded slowly.
Clare played her trump card. ‘And it’ll boost your promotion chances to no end if you can put away the likes of Ronnie Tennant.’
He rested his chin on his hands.
They waited.
Finally, he said, ‘I must need my head examined. Go on, then. Tell Susan Whatshername I’ll find her a place to stay.’
‘And you’ll speak to Social Work about her daughter?’
‘One thing at a time, Clare. Let’s get her a new flat and take a statement.’
Outside the office, Amy said, ‘I’ll call in some extra bodies from the drug squad. Once we have names we’ll start picking them up. It’s best if we can do them all at the same time.’
Chris said, ‘Want me to come with you to see Kevin?’
Clare sighed. ‘Yeah. But first, I’d better tell Susan to get her stuff packed. She’s moving out.’
* * *
Kevin was out in the shed, as usual. Wendy saw Clare’s expression.
‘It’s bad news, isn’t it?’
‘Yep.’
‘Not Abi?’ Wendy’s hand went to her face.
‘No. Lisa. We found her body in the boot of her own car. Possibly stabbed. But we won’t know for a few hours yet.’
Wendy looked down the garden at Kevin. He seemed lost in a world of his own. ‘Poor lad. Want me to call him in?’
‘Let’s phone his GP first. See if he can call round.’
* * *
Kevin looked more gaunt than ever. His eyes seemed to have sunk into his skull, dark shadows beneath them. He’d been wearing the same T-shirt for the past three days now and hadn’t shaved. He seemed to have given up and Clare knew that what she had to tell him might finish him altogether. She led him into the sitting room and he followed her mechanically.
‘Kevin,’ she began, trying to keep her voice level. ‘About two hours ago, the body of a young woman matching Lisa’s description was found to the north of Dundee. I can’t give you any more information at this stage but we do believe it to be Lisa.’
He stared at Clare. His mouth opened but nothing came out. He frowned, as though trying to process this, then said, ‘But it can’t be. She’s only just gone. She’ll be coming back.’ He looked from Clare to Chris then back at Clare again. ‘She’ll be back.’
Clare tried again. ‘I’m so sorry, Kevin. This must be a dreadful shock for you. We will need you to identify the body.’
‘Don’t call her that!’ he said, his eyes flashing. ‘She’s not a body. She’s Lisa. My wife. Abi’s mum. Don’t you call her that.’
Wendy moved to sit next to Kevin but he shrugged her off. ‘Get away! I’m okay. Just leave me alone.’ He rose and made to leave the room but Chris stood and gently led him back to the sofa.
‘Kevin,’ Chris said, ‘please listen. We’re working hard to find out what’s happened to Lisa and we will find whoever is responsible. But for now, you have to stay strong. For Abi.’
Kevin turned to Chris, his eyes red-rimmed. ‘Stay strong? That’s all I’ve done, these last few days. I’m so tired of being strong.’
The doorbell sounded and Wendy went to admit Kevin’s GP.
Clare rose. ‘Kevin, we have urgent enquiries to carry out now, but Wendy will stay with you, and we’ll be back to speak to you again in a few hours.’
Outside, Chris said, ‘It doesn’t get any easier, does it?’
Clare shook her head. ‘Nope. Come on. Let’s get back.’
* * *
The mood around the station was sombre. They were all acutely aware that, if Lisa was dead, the chances of finding Abi safe and well were slim. Clare heard the whispers and she saw the eyes on her. The looks that said they thought she should change tack. Start to face the reality that Abi Mitchell wasn’t going to be found alive. She bore it for a couple of minutes then called them into the i
ncident room, her hands shoved deep into her pockets so they wouldn’t see them shaking. This time, there was no need to wait for the chatter to subside.
‘I am aware,’ she began, making an effort to keep her voice level, ‘that there is some talk of a triple murder enquiry within these walls.’ She looked round the room, meeting every eye. ‘I want to make it absolutely clear that, unless we find clear evidence to the contrary, we continue to treat the Abigail Mitchell case as an abduction.’ She paused then repeated, ‘An abduction.’
A few faces continued to watch Clare. Others stared at the floor, at the whiteboard – anywhere, rather than meet her eye. ‘As far as I’m concerned,’ Clare went on, ‘Abi Mitchell is alive until we know otherwise.’ She scanned the room again. ‘Everyone clear?’
There was a general muttering of ‘Yes boss’ and Clare left the room. She moved to the water cooler and poured herself a cup which she drank down in one go. Sara was back at her desk now, visibly upset. Clare reckoned it would be better to keep her busy.
‘Any news?’ she asked.
Sara blew her nose and tucked the tissue up her sleeve. She reached for a folder of printouts. ‘Ronnie and Margo Tennant.’ She handed it to Clare. ‘It’s all there. Car registrations, jobs, houses, the lot.’
Clare looked at it. There was a lot to trawl through. ‘Anything of note?’
‘Only this,’ Sara said, fishing out one of the sheets. ‘Margo Tennant. Worked as an A&E nurse until five years ago. She was caught stealing tramadol and diazepam from the pharmacy. Claimed she was dealing with personal problems and wasn’t prosecuted. But she lost her job over it.’
‘Margo Tennant’s a nurse?’ Clare said.
‘Yep. Or she used to be.’
‘Right. Get the word out to all stations. Margo and Ronnie Tennant wanted in connection with the disappearance of Abigail Mitchell and the murders of Paul Sinclair and Lisa Mitchell.’
‘Want it on the news, boss?’ Sara asked.
‘No, I want a news blackout.’ She turned to see Lyall, who was listening to the conversation. ‘Not one word of this is to leave this room, Lyall. Understood?’
In Plain Sight Page 25
