by G R Jordan
After turning down a small side road, the car wound its way down to the cliff edge and gave the occupants a long view of the loch before them. Taking a look at the quiet expanse of water before them, Hope whistled her appreciation.
“Look at that, sir. Perfect to swim in or what?”
“The waters are cold up here, even colder than Glasgow and you’d be mad to swim in the Clyde for starters. Park up and find me who’s running the show.”
Hope parked the car just off the track and headed towards the small contingent of police cars up ahead. Macleod followed behind slowly, chewing over the area. Right out in the back of beyond, he thought. They couldn’t have killed her in a more remote or lovely a place. If the sun would turn out this area would be hailed as a paradise but then was that not true of all the islands up here. The weather made such a difference to the perception of the place.
As he approached the group of local officers, Hope was walking towards him, accompanied by a tall man in a shirt and tie who held out his hand. He wore wellington boots but was otherwise suitable to be in any office.
“Good morning, sir,” said the officer, “it’s a bit on the rough side weather wise.”
“Thank you, Detective..?”
“Allinson, sir. I hope the flight up was good enough for you.” The man smiled somewhat disingenuously and Macleod wondered if Hope had said anything.
“It was fine, just fine. Now fill me in Allinson, what have we got?”
“If you’ll come this way, sir, and I’ll brief you as we walk. An early morning walker spotted a body off this cliff edge, looking down to sea. It appears to have been washed up onto the rocks and not simply dropped from the top, as there was little trauma to the body except for the throat which was slashed through. Actually it was more ripped apart, not a very clean job.” Allinson seemed to involuntarily swallow as he thought about his last statement and Macleod wondered if the man had ever seen a murder before. It was a sad truth that you became dead to far too horrific a scene in this work, well at least that was what you told yourself. Some of the nightmares said different.
“We had to move the body,” continued Allinson, “as the tide would have taken it back out into the loch. Members of the local Coastguard and the lifeboat combined to remove the corpse and it is now back at the hospital morgue. Right, here we are.”
Macleod approached a cliff edge and taking care not to get too close too quickly, he peered at the rocks below. “So the tide floods right up and over these rocks? Are we thinking the body came from further up the loch, or down?”
Allinson twitched his head on his rather thin neck and curled the edge of his mouth up. “Well, I spoke to the Coastguard station who said their modelling system would struggle in such a confined area as this loch and they put me onto the lifeboat coxswain. He said it would depend on how long she had been in the water. Given the condition of the body, we are thinking less than twelve hours and more like the early morning, so he reckoned the corpse would have been pulled in from the sea end down the loch.”
“Are there any piers or jetties further up?” asked Hope, looking in the general direction.
“A couple on the side of the main road but only one more further up from here.”
“Do you have a map?” asked Macleod. “I’m getting a bit disorientated.”
Allinson pulled out a standard OS map and spread it on the bonnet of the car. “Now sir, you would have left Stornoway and followed this road out and along before turning down this side road. After that, you have come round the end of the loch you see before us and are now on this side. If you continue up the road, you’ll see that there is a marked jetty right there.”
“Do many people use it?” asked Hope.
“No, it’s in bad repair but it is accessible and people will sometimes go there for a bit of quiet.”
“Sort out my mind quiet, or hump the daylights out of each other quiet?”
“McGrath, there’s no need to be so crude,” chastened Macleod.
“The..., eh..., two person physical kind,” answered Allinson. Macleod caught Hope’s bemused look. She clearly didn’t even know her crime. That was the trouble these days, the standards of the new generation had sunk too low, far too low.
“Has anyone been up there yet?”
“No, sir. We’ve been a little maxed out here dealing with the body and trying to seal off this scene. We’ve also been trying to identify who the victim is and been canvasing doors to identify her.”
“And?” requested Macleod.
“The victim is a twenty-one year old female named Sara Hewitt. English girl, counter assistant in town and former lifeguard who recently started her own massage business.”
“What sort of massage business?” asked Hope. Allinson looked quizzically at her.
“Detective McGrath means was it a health benefit or simply a knocking shop?” Allinson looked puzzled again.
“Knocking shop,” said Hope, “the old name for a brothel. Was she giving them something beyond a soothing pair of hands?”
“I doubt it,” said Allinson, “the shop’s on one of the main streets.”
Macleod turned away and looked up the loch again. “We need to know the story,” he said aloud to the world in general. “Where did she float from? Where there any cars about last night?” He scanned the area for domiciles and saw very few, each hidden off the road, barely visible. Turning around and thinking of where he had driven through he remembered the small village they had passed.
“Allinson, the village behind us, you would need to pass through it to get to the jetty further up, yes?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Good, then have some of our guys ask round the village. Did anyone see anything last night, anyone strange passing through? Probably a couple, maybe more. If there’s no car, then she might have come out here with her murderer.”
“We should canvas the other side of the loch too, the town side, there’s no guarantee that the body came from this remoter side,” said Hope.
“True,” nodded Macleod. “Take a run up to the pier, McGrath, see if there’s any indication of anything there and call me if there is. Allinson, can you go with her or send one of your men up?”
“People, sir,” corrected Hope.
“People, indeed, any officer you deem fit, Allinson.”
Macleod stood looking around, soaking in the loch and the air, trying to imagine the place at night. It had been an overcast night, so there would have been little light. This place was perfect to get rid of someone. Watching Hope and Allinson get into the car and then drive off towards the pier, he knew he needed more to run down this killer.
“Do you two get on?”
Hope turned to Allinson checking his intent. He seemed genuine enough. “It’s our first case together. Macleod’s from here and I got dumped on him because his right hand man was in a car crash.”
“Hell of a substitute.”
Because she was driving, Hope found it hard to turn and gauge the comment but it certainly sounded like a come on. “The best,” she replied.
“You can’t be used to a place like this, more cut out for the bright lights of the big city I guess. There’s not that much happening here. Plenty if you like the outdoor life and that. Plenty of clubs and groups but the social scene isn’t the wildest.” Allinson was smiling at her and Hope felt his eyes soaking her up. He was kind of cute and she never minded being looked at. She dressed to impress after all so why would you get annoyed when they stared.
“I’m no wild child, I like a little rural, fresh air and countryside.”
“Well if you need any help, just holler. Happy to assist one of our colleagues from the south.”
“I may just do that but I doubt we’ll get any time for a day or two. By the way does the hotel have any facilities, like a gym or that?”
Allinson smiled. “I’m not certain but if it doesn’t there’s always the leisure centre in town. I tend to get up early and work out, so if you need co
mpany then I am available.”
Hope laughed internally. She knew she was attractive and probably a little wilder than most men were used to which often made their heads spin. But she wasn’t shallow and she didn’t just take a come on from everyone and run with it. But if everywhere else was drab at least there was someone to hang out with.
“Are all your side tracks like this,” said Hope, “Feels like the road wasn’t built for cars.”
“Well it’s not like these are main routes to anywhere. I’m not sure anyone really uses the pier anymore. I reckon we get some amorous couples down here but no major traffic.” Allinson laughed as he spoke, finding the notion of well-maintained roads somewhat amusing. With a generous smile, this ability to laugh at his personal surroundings endeared him to Hope. She had worked with a number of people from Lewis in Glasgow and most didn’t like anything derogatory said about their island.
Within a few minutes Hope had pulled the car up on the pier side and the pair exited the vehicle. Separating, they looked down either side of the pier. Hope scrabbled across rocks with tiny little pools of water lying stagnated, left by the receding tide. Something took her back to days of clamouring over similar rocks with her grandfather, and his tales of the sea monsters that lived in each one.
“McGrath, I’ve got something.”
Hope broke off from her daydream and strode across the rocks back to the end of the pier where Allinson was calling from. As she approached, he pointed to the ground, right where the concrete of the pier started to slope downwards towards the water.
“Threads?” queried Hope.
“Yes, threads from a jacket of something. They seem to be close to the colour she was wearing. I guess we should step away now and get forensics up here. Looks like this may have been the place.”
“I’ll call the boss,” said Hope and pressed the button on her mobile. Holding it to her ear she wondered why it was taking so long.
“You’ll need to drive back down. Mobile signal is often pretty poor when you are down the lochs. You go and I’ll sit here until someone makes it back.”
“Thanks,” said Hope. “It really is out of the way here. The lack of houses around, the long trek to a pier no one wants to use, and then a slipway that runs into the water. Almost the perfect spot.”
“They usually just say quaint or picturesque in the brochures. But then we don’t advertise the place for murder.”
Chapter 4
More of the Glasgow team had arrived, including the forensic section, who had taken over the sites where the body had been found and where it had possibly come from. The local constabulary had come up with an ID for the victim and even an address. Sara Hewitt had not been reported missing but word on the street had caused her boyfriend to ring the station while Macleod had been out at the loch. On receiving the information, he had grabbed McGrath and the pair were making their way back to Stornoway, initially to the massage shop Sara had recently opened.
Although there was a buzz in the town, Hope was able to make her way to the shop without any large crowds blocking her way. However she did note the distant stares from many locals. And no wonder, she thought, I doubt this sort of thing happens much up here. In Glasgow, they’d just be getting on with their shopping.
“They’ve got the boyfriend at the station,” Macleod said to Hope, “but let’s have a look round her place first. She’s quite the mystery to us at this time and I’d rather get a picture from her belongings than from someone else initially.”
Hope nodded. Macleod was right, it was easier to tell what angle others came from if you could get an understanding of your own about the victim. She followed him into the door of the small shop. The front had proclaimed different forms of spiritual healing and massage but something just didn’t seem right as they entered the shop.
The front room was sparse. A table covered with towels was central to the room and there was a small stereo system lurking in the corner. A range of herbal teas sat beside some bottles containing various liquids and there were a few glass tumblers beside fitness water bottles. The whole place seemed confused, half trying to be something deeper and half trying to be a basic gentleman’s lounge.
Macleod picked up an A4 hard backed book from a low table and began flicking through it. Hope glanced over his shoulder and noted the names of men with times of appointments and whether they had paid.
“How much does a massage cost these days?” asked Macleod.
“Forty quid, maybe a little more. Why?”
“Two hundred sound right? There’s a few men here who must have been getting some very long massages.”
“Paid in advance, maybe? A package deal?” volunteered Hope.
“I’m going to have a deeper look at this, McGrath. Have a look round the rest of the place.”
Hope nodded and walked through the door at the back of the shop where she found a small ante room and a set of stairs. The dark blue carpet was showing signs of wear and the white wallpaper had that cream tinge to it that spoke of being neglected for too long. The stairs were steep and led through a door at the top to a simple bedsit.
A double bed with its sheets tossed here and there occupied the corner of the room adjacent to the windows that looked out onto the road. The curtains were new, unlike most of the furniture and did a good job of blocking out the light and any potential peeping toms. On the bed was a white dressing gown which had a silky look and appeared pretty sheer to Hope. Above the bed were posters of women in classy but highly sexualized poses.
Across from the bed there were a small range of cupboards with a sink unit. On top was a microwave and a hotplate with two rings. Opening the cupboards, Hope discovered a fridge that was almost bare. The half cut melon and single bottle of water were the only occupants and even the cupboards were mostly empty except for a few basic pots and pans. Over the cupboards, the wall had a map of the Isle of Lewis, a tourist edition by the look of it, as there were services advertised. At the back of the room was a small door and on opening it, Hope found a shower room with toilet. A hook with towels hanging was on the back of the door and the shower had only a few empty bottles of shower gel and shampoo.
Returning to the main room, Hope searched the cupboards near the shower room and found a range of sportswear and lingerie. The girl must have been a physical animal, she thought. The sports clothes are serious, good quality and as for the lingerie, there seems to be an abnormal amount of deviant and kinky items. Hope tossed the clothes around and found a pair of handcuffs. Further delving found items of a more personal nature but clearly not for solo use.
Suddenly aware of someone behind her Hope turned round holding a vibrator and saw the look of disgust in Macleod’s eyes.
“Did you find anything of use?” he spat.
“Seems she may have been the entertaining type. There’s a lot of toys and sexy clothing. And look at the posters above the bed, real mood setters. But it’s all done on a budget by the look of it. She’s also a sport’s freak, or at least a sport’s gear collector. This is all good stuff.” Hope watched Macleod walk over to the bed and his lips rose into an angry pout. Standing there, he shook his head.
Hope started to open the few drawers she hadn’t checked and found a hairdryer and make-up as well as an upmarket range of underwear. There was also a number of small white packets. “Sir,” called Hope and Macleod came over.
“Stupid girl,” he said. “This sort of life always ends up bad.”
“That’s a bit harsh, sir. We know nothing about her yet.”
“On the contrary, Detective McGrath, we know she liked to entertain the wilder side of men, and probably in a paying capacity. I swear these girls don’t know the demons they dig up in men when they do this. Man’s a wild animal, McGrath, an uncontrolled rage of emotions. They would do well to live a more sombre and sober lifestyle.”
“Doesn’t mean she deserved to be murdered.”
“No, it doesn’t. But never wake the lion. Too often the hand goes
into the fire. Even in my own life. Back before I found my way. Too many don’t, McGrath, too many don’t.”
“You were wild. You don’t look the type, sir,” rounded Hope.
“I’m not proud of being a slave to the demon drink. But I’m the Lord’s now, McGrath. Something we should all ponder on.”
Hope ignored the direct message and continued her final rummaging. Soon, she stood up and returned to the bedside where Macleod seemed to be growing red in a suppressed rage.
“That’s blasphemy, McGrath,” her boss announced. “There’s no place for a blessed symbol like that in this place.”
Looking at where Macleod’s stare was burning a hole in the wall, Hope saw a bare woman, embraced by a man, but with a cross hung around her neck and nestled in her cleavage.
“Well some people don’t see its significance, sir. It’s merely a decoration, something to be adorned in. They don’t understand its meaning to someone like you.”
“No they don’t McGrath. If only they did.” With that Macleod marched out of the room and Hope decided it was time to go.
She had known he was religious, and also from the island, but the image on the wall had really seemed to throw the Inspector. Hope had no grievance against those with a faith, and in fact envied them in some ways as she had never been sure of anything beyond this life. Friends had died and left her wondering but that was as far as it had gone. Just wondering.
Macleod was in the car and Hope spoke briefly to the two officers in uniform guarding the shop before leaving. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, she saw Macleod watch her as she went to start the engine.
“Something wrong, sir?”
“No, nothing. I haven’t always had the chance to have someone like you working with me. I was just wondering if you would be able to shed some light on this girl’s thinking. I don’t really get people like this. Why does a woman do this? You said I was harsh up there. Maybe you’re right, but for the grace of God go I, and all that. But you’re like her.”
