Hunter's Chase (The Edinburgh Crime Mysteries #1)

by Val Penny

  Tim shrugged. “I see Ian Thomson is here.”

  “Poor mug chained to him looks chuffed, doesn't he?”

  Hunter and Tim scanned those attending. The family gathered around in the rain. The edges of the grave were slippery with mud. Frankie almost lost his footing as they lowered the coffin. Hunter sniggered.

  “Okay, lad, let's head back to the ranch. I've had enough.”

  Rather than write down names, Tim used his phone to photograph those there, taking a clear picture of his assailant. That person did not even look his way, but must have known he was there and why. Tim could not help but wonder who was here to mourn Billy's passing and who was here to make sure he was gone. He followed the DI back to the car.

  “You're quiet today, Tim,” Hunter said.

  “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind. Shouldn't bring it to work, though. Sorry.”

  “Your dad?”

  “No.”

  The rest of the journey was silent. Both men were glad that the trip from Mortonhall to Fettes did not take long, not the way Hunter was driving. They got back to the station and went their separate ways.

  Ian was led away from the rest of the family who made their way to the Braid Hills Hotel for the Wake. Billy always gave a good party, and nobody wanted to miss out on a last drink from the man.

  Edna took a seat by the window. The grey light behind her put her face in shadow and guests had to cross the room to pay their respects. She dabbed her eyes between drinking glasses of vodka and tonic. She made sure she got her money's worth on the sandwiches and sausage rolls too. Edna did like a sausage roll.

  Jamie stationed himself by the bar and permitted guests to express sympathy for his loss and his injury. They were sure his pain would be soothed by a pint. Jamie was too polite to refuse.

  Frankie chose to stand by the door. He greeted each person as they came in. Then, with his mother surrounded by the sycophants and his cousin propping up the bar, regaling the rest with stories of what might have been or never were, Frankie made his exit. His babies needed him now. He left, unnoticed, into the grey afternoon. It matched his mood.

  Joe was there when he reached the hospital, sitting by the twins.

  “Which one’s which, son?” he asked. “All babies look the same to me.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Hunter was back behind his desk when Jane and Rachael arrived back from lunch. Sharing a quick glance, Rachael went to make tea while Jane knocked on the DI's door.

  “Boss, you got a minute?”

  “For you? Of course. Come on in, Jane.” Hunter waved a hand towards a chair. “What's up?”

  “Boss, when Mel and I went to see Edna and Frankie last time, Jamie was there.”

  “Uh-huh. I heard he is staying there while his ankle heals. I think he put that down as his address for his bail too.” Hunter sighed. “No big surprise as his dad is inside and his mum and Lenny are in sunny Spain.”

  “Yes, it's just that we seemed to catch the tail end of a conversation. It didn't seem to make sense, but I've been thinking about it overnight and I have a theory.”

  The DI looked at his sergeant expectantly. Jane was a bright woman and an intuitive detective. He listened in silence as she told him what they had heard.

  “Did Mel hear this too?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thanks, Jane. Send her in.”

  Mel told Wilson the gist of what she and Jane had overheard in the Hope household about Annie and her twins. She did add that it might mean nothing, but was worthy of investigation. Hunter agreed, and suggested that she go alone to speak to Jamie as she had developed a rapport with him.

  “I will get Tim to catch up with Joe Johnson tomorrow, and Jane can speak to Frankie and Edna. I want to go to see Mansoor myself,” he said grimly.

  Arjun Mansoor did not appear surprised to see Hunter when he arrived at the car showroom.

  “Detective Inspector Wilson, how lovely to see you.” He greeted Hunter with effusive sarcasm. “Wasn't it an excellent turnout for poor, dear Billy?”

  “Indeed. May we speak?”

  Mansoor nodded and turned on his heels. Hunter followed him to his office.

  “Unfortunately, Ian Thomson's Range Rover was not in its garage.”

  “Oh really? What a surprise. Perhaps it was stolen,” Mansoor said disingenuously.

  “Unlikely. Anyway, we found it. The car had been carefully valeted inside and out.”

  “My goodness. It must have been stolen to order. The thief must have had a buyer for it.”

  “Perhaps. That would certainly explain a full valet. But we found a couple of traces that a theft wouldn't explain.” Hunter stared at the car entrepreneur and held his gaze. “We found traces of Billy's blood in the engine.”

  “How unpleasant. How could that have got there?”

  “And a long red hair caught in the fixings of the new windscreen.”

  “Oh dear,” Mansoor said without expression. ”Well, I suppose that will give you something to work on. Police failure to find the killers of so many poor, innocent people is adversely affecting public confidence, I've heard.”

  “Uh-huh. As it happens, we do have something to work on. We have the DNA of a driver. One of our officers also saw the most recent driver of the car and can identify them. We just need to tie up that driver with the murders.”

  “Excellent. The thief left DNA?”

  “Could be.” Hunter spoke slowly. “Was the thief the murderer?”

  “Now how on earth would I know that?”

  “Do you have any objection to you and your staff providing DNA samples?”

  “Not at all, Inspector. We are all happy to help Scotland's finest.”

  Hunter took the swabs and completed the labels and paperwork before taking all the samples back to the station and sending them on to the forensic lab.

  George Reinbold would need to check DNA samples as soon as possible. He would check Mansoor's car as well as Ian Thomson's. Then there would be the final piece of the puzzle. It would not be just the word of the murderer against young Myerscough.

  Meera and Reinbold would have to speak to the morning briefing. The thought of seeing Meera gave Hunter something to look forward to. His smile was involuntary.

  Jamie was clearly thrilled to see Mel.

  “I knew you weren't gay. You just can't keep away from me, can you, darling? It's okay. I'm home alone. No disturbances for us.” He winked.

  Mel went inside and quickly disabused Jamie of any amorous intent. She declined Jamie's offer of tea and swiftly moved on to the reason for her visit. He looked delighted.

  “Aha! You want a sample of my DNA!” He grinned. “I knew you would come round to my way of thinking! I've got the best DNA anywhere around. You got a magazine for me to look at before I get it out for you? Or should we just talk dirty?”

  “Sorry to disappoint, Jamie. I just want to brush this swab on the inside of your cheek. You seem to be thinking about something else entirely.”

  “Hmmm.” Jamie shrugged. “Not sure about it now. I thought it would be a whole lot more fun than that!”

  “Please don't make me get a court order, Jamie. I don't want to fall out with you.” Mel spoke more kindly than the words suggested. She would never admit it to Jamie, but she actually quite liked the lad.

  “Go on then, but don't say I'm not good to you. Aaagh.” Jamie opened his mouth wide and submitted to giving the sample with a good humour. “Now remember, I don't want you making clones of me, so we can be together when we're apart.” He grinned at Mel as she was leaving.

  “I'll try to resist that temptation, Jamie.” She turned to him on the door step. “How are Frankie's twins?” she asked innocently.

  “Aye, fine, I think. Why?”

  “Oh nothing, I just thought I heard your aunt say something that made me think they had problems.”

  “Well, it's true Auntie Edna isn't their biggest fan. But it's not their fault. They're the innocents. Fuck
, even Frankie and Annie were innocents. They didn't know about Uncle Billy playing around, nobody did. Not even Auntie Eddie. Uncle Billy told her he'd put it about with Mary-Ann, just before he popped his clogs. If he'd stayed stumm, he'd have saved himself a whole lot of grief.”

  “So?” Mel asked.

  “So you don't need to know.”

  “Maybe not, but you've got me curious now, Jamie.”

  “Aye, well.” He paused.

  “Gone on, tell me. What does Uncle Billy playing around have to do with Frankie's girls? It doesn't make sense to me.”

  “You won't let on that I told you? Frankie's sensitive about those babies.”

  Mel shook her head and crossed the left hand side of her chest.

  “Billy had a fling with Annie's Mum. He's her pop, not Joe, as well as Frankie's. Auntie Eddie wasn't best pleased. Neither was my pop when he found out.”

  “So she's known about it all these years?”

  “You're joking! Billy only told her when they learned Annie was having Frankie's bairns. Frankie said his pop was furious with him. Of course, Auntie Eddie was so much more furious with Billy. I'm glad I wasn't here during all that. All that bad language, and me so fragile, with my leg.”

  “I'll bet!“ Mel smiled as she left.

  Once back in the car she sent a text to Bear: Pub tonight? He immediately sent her back a thumbs-up emoji.

  Mel smiled and drove back to the station. Mission accomplished.

  Tim was not surprised when he learned that he had been chosen, in his absence, to track down Joe Johnson. If he were honest, he would have voted for the guy who wasn't there too. He was surprised to hear what Mel had learned from Jamie, though. It all fitted now.

  “When you see Joe, find out when he knew about Mary-Ann's dalliance with Billy Hope, will you?” Hunter asked Tim.

  “Hey Timmy, off too smell out Joe? Lucky you!” Bear shouted across. “Pint in The Golf tonight? Mel and I are going.”

  “Sounds good. See you there.” Tim picked up his jacket and flung it over his shoulder as he left to hunt Joe down. He would start in Bennett's. It was as good a bet as any.

  Tim was glad he had followed his hunch. He found Joe sitting in a corner table for Bennett's staring into a pint, oblivious to the game of dominoes going on a few tables from him. Tim had rarely seen a human being look so miserable. He ordered a pint and an Irn Bru and sat down opposite Joe. The old man did not stir. Tim pushed the pint towards him. Joe looked up.

  “Oh, it's yourself.” He finished the dregs of one pint before pulling the proffered drink towards him. “I've been reading some nasty stuff about your Da in the papers. Sad. Addiction is a terrible thing,” he said, as he downed a long swallow from his glass.

  Tim wondered if the old man was even aware of the irony. Looking at Joe again, he thought probably not.

  “They killed my bairn yesterday.”

  “I know how that feels.”

  Joe snorted. “Aye, right. My beautiful wee Annie. Everybody loved her.”

  “Possibly not everybody.” Tim ignored Joe's derision about his own loss. “We have two witnesses who believe the car may not have run into her by accident. Can you think of anybody who would want to hurt her?”

  “What would make them think that?”

  “The car speeded up to hit her.”

  “No way.”

  “Then reversed over her.”

  “No.”

  “One of the witnesses ran to call an ambulance and didn't see any more. The other stayed at her window. She watched while the car reversed over Annie before driving away.”

  “No. Can't be.”

  “Joe, can you know of anybody who would want to harm Annie?”

  “No, no, no. That just cannot be right. Nobody would want to hurt my bonnie Annie.” Joe stared back into his beer.

  Tim began to speak very softly. “When did you learn Billy Hope was Annie's father?”

  Joe looked up sharply. “Who said that? How do you know? I was her Da.”

  “In every way that mattered, you were her father. But Billy sired her, didn't he? When did you find out?” Tim spoke gently. “Joe, now that Annie is dead, this is a murder enquiry.”

  “Do you remember when I came and told you Mary-Ann was missing?”

  Tim nodded.

  “She told me about Annie having twins with Frankie. That made me mad: the girl was only sixteen, she was too young. Then Mary-Ann told me she’d had a fling with Billy Hope before we were wed. She knew she was pregnant before we even married, so Billy was Annie's dad as well as Frankie's.” Joe paused and took a long drink from his pint. “By God! That tore the heart out of me. It damn near killed me an' all.”

  “Do you know who killed Mary-Ann, Joe?”

  “What? Me? No! And it wasnae me. I could no sooner kill Mary-Ann as fly in the air.” He paused and looked Tim in the eye. “I did smack her. Smacked her about good, that day, I did. I'm not proud of it, but who wouldn't?”

  “I wouldn't,” Tim said. “But I think I know who killed her.”

  “She ran away. Got out of the flat and ran away. I can't run. It was your dad who found her. Did he kill her? Did she no clean the silver good enough?” Joe stood up. He was beginning to shout.

  Tim stood up and dwarfed the other man by nearly a foot. Joe sat down and stared into his nearly empty glass.

  “Shall I get them in, again?” Tim asked quietly.

  Joe nodded.

  Tim came back with their new drinks and sat down. “Who else knew about Billy being Annie's dad?”

  “I don't know, son,” Joe said miserably. “I really do not know. Frankie told me his Da told him the evening Billy learned about the twins. He was out with a group of his mates. Acting the big man. Prick!”

  “Who was there?”

  “No idea, son. Frankie never said. Doctor says the bairns might have problems because of it, but they'll keep an eye on them. Frankie says I can go see them whenever I like. He's not a bad lad, Frankie.”

  “Joe, we don't believe the battering you gave Mary-Ann killed her. We think she was knocked over by a car when she was running away from you. Then someone attempted to hide her body on the grounds of the golf course. That's where my father found her.”

  “A car? Another car? Was that an accident?”

  “We're not sure yet. But I will find out. They'll pay.” Tim paused before explaining to Joe that he needed a sample of his DNA to eliminate it from the traces on Ian Thomson's car.

  “That's fine, son. But it can't have nought to do with Ian Thomson. He's in the big house. No idea how Billy got away with that one.”

  Joe submitted to the swab being taken. Tim got up.

  “You couldn't go us another pint before you go, son. Could you?”

  Tim bought the pint, put it in front of Joe and left without another word.

  Tim took a detour via Gillespie Crescent in the station car.

  Sophie was at work when Tim went into the flat. He picked up his clothes. He collected his personal stuff. He hunted out everything for Lucy. It took ages to find her favourite green toy mouse. It was more of a blob now: the tail and eyes long gone, but she loved it. There was no reason she should lose what she loved.

  How could Sophie do that?

  He took one last look around the flat and left. He posted his keys back through the door, dropped his things at his father's house and drove back to the station. At least he would not have to bend up like a concertina to get into that bloody Fiat 500 anymore.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Mackay and Hunter walked into the incident room. It smelt of bacon, coffee and sweat. All three could in the past have been attributed to John Hamilton, but not now. Jane, Rachael and Mel stood together chatting, the DS showing off the earrings Rachael had given to her for her birthday. Tim and Bear were clearly discussing something more serious, but neither wanted to include anyone else in the conversation. However, Mackay managed to catch Tim's eye and indicate that they needed to talk
after the briefing.

  “Now if I may call the room to order,” Mackay started. The thunderous chatter cleared down to a rumble before ceasing. “For those of you who do not know them, we are joined by Dr Meera Sharma, our senior pathologist, and Mr George Reinbold, who leads our team of CSIs. We now have three murders, all committed by using a car as an offensive weapon. Young Annie Johnson died two days ago after her twins were delivered and her life support was switched off. The injuries suffered when she was run over by the car were too severe to sustain life.”

  “So she's dead because of the car accident?” Colin asked.

  “There is extreme doubt as to whether it was an accident,” Mackay said. “One of the witnesses has said in her statement that she saw the car speed up going towards Annie and then reversed over her after it hit her.”

  “Only one witness, Boss?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, but Dr Sharma agrees that the injuries on the body support that chain of events. Both she and Mr Reinbold will speak to you all at the end of this meeting. We also now have an attack on a serving officer, which luckily, led to little more than cuts and bruises. If DC Myerscough had been less physically fit, DC Reid, the outcome might have been quite different.” Smiles and nods all round. “So, feel free to ask our experts any questions you need to.”

  Meera and George nodded solemnly. George, with a ramrod-straight back, sat holding his walking stick in front of him. Meera stood beside him. Then Meera caught Hunter's eye and blushed before looking away. She hoped nobody had noticed this sudden rush of blood to the face, but she knew Hunter had little sense of humour when it came to jokes at his expense.

  DCI Mackay continued. “We have had something of a breakthrough in the car murders. This is largely due to young DC Myerscough deciding, for some unexplained reason, to travel home to Bruntsfield via Musselburgh and subsequently treating Ian Thomson's Range Rover more as the animal in a bull fight than the deadly weapon it appears to have been used as more recently.”