Clearly, I’d overlooked something, and Tony was just as confused as the rest of us.
“Hold on a minute. I don’t know any employees who pay their boss for the privilege of working in their company? What could it mean if Marvin’s paying in money, as opposed to being paid?”
“Who knows? It’s anybody’s guess. But it’s definitely an irregularity, especially when both Marvin and Jerry Clark were the employees whose wages are outstanding. The Carlings technically owe them this money and more.” McCall studied the list carefully. “What would you do without me here? You’d miss many things.”
“Hmm.” Tony was preoccupied, deep in thought. “I’ll search some more and rake through any other dodgy hiccups in their transactions.”
“Cheers, Tony. Do you reckon the brothers would want to get revenge on the Carlings now? To get their wages and invested money back by setting a ransom at £20,000?” McCall gravely said what we were all thinking. “A price for a life and ours is £20,000. That note would have been placed round about the time that Marvin transferred money to the Carlings.” She roughly quoted the handwritten letter sent to Mr Carling. “It’s a pretty penny if they get away with it.”
I rubbed my stubble gravely. “I wonder if they paid money to the Carlings on purpose? To make themselves appear charitable from an exterior point of view?”
“Whilst underneath the surface, they’re brewing a wicked plan,” Rebecca swivelled in the office chair thoughtfully. “Making themselves look good to the likes of us, knowing we’d be poking around a bit.”
We all shared a groan of bewilderment.
“We’re armed with plenty of burning questions for the Clark brothers, that’s for sure.” I raised my eyebrows ironically. “And now, we wait.” I gestured to the wall clock with a flourish and earned a round of chuckles.
After delegating some more tasks to the team, McCall started to head towards the staff kitchen. “If anyone needs me, I’m going to take a cup of tea through to the Guv. I mean, DCI Harvey. She had one earlier, but they keep getting cold before she finishes them.” The two of them appeared to be getting along like a house on fire, that much was evident.
“Seen as you’re offering, a black for me.” I stretched over with my mug, remnants of liquid dregs in the bottom.
“Same here.” Tony distractedly held his cup in the air for her to take. “Thanks, sarge.”
“You’re all going to get a suitable punishment for this. I’ll be thinking long and hard, so be warned,” McCall tutted but took the mugs, anyway.
Cillian couldn’t stay quiet for much longer. “Hey. What about mine, sarge? Decaf, two sugars and just a splash of milk. Please.” He’d eventually broken the pact to remain silent as we all knew he would.
“I think you’ll find I was quiet for ten minutes and forty-five seconds. sir,” Cillian informed proudly. “Meaning you owe me double the money. Let’s call it ten pounds, five pence.”
“How about,” I leant forward and fished in my shallow suit pockets. “We call it five pence, and that’s your lot.” I flipped a silver coin his way, one I had found on the reception floor earlier.
Cillian punched the air in boyish delight. Simple minds were pleased with even simpler things. “Cool! I lost one of these by the front desk this morning.”
12
We only managed to establish contact with one of the previously convicted double act, Marvin Clark. He arrived as soon as possible and was more than eager to provide his services. The muscly specimen of a man sat opposite McCall and me, very calm and collected considering he was sat inside a police station. Being in front of two officers didn’t seem to faze him. He’d done this all before, we supposed.
An inked dagger tattoo decorated the top of his prominent Adam’s apple, which must’ve hurt like hell at the time. Although a guy like him probably didn’t know the meaning of pain. Marvin was quite a bit taller than McCall and me combined, whilst a few shadows were cast onto his shaved head. There were also a few slashed scars below his right earlobe that probably should have needed stitches at the time. A few sparse, pin-sized holes littered various places on that same ear, from the lobe to the tip, as well as his top lip. Presumably, he had piercings all over when he was young and had decided against them as a God-fearing adult.
The weirdest thing about Marvin Clark was his eminent spirituality, which didn’t fit his outwardly tough exterior. He was, in fact, fairly soft-spoken and humble, the exact opposite of what I’d expected. A barely noticeable chain hung around his huge neck that was almost as strong as a tree trunk. It nearly broke at the fastenings from the strain it was under. At the forefront of the necklace hung a religious cross. On his straining bicep was yet another tattoo of a cross as though he couldn’t get enough of them. The guy was trying to be a walking symbol of the church.
“Marvin,” McCall began and glanced up from her notes. The interviewing room seemed significantly smaller now that his gigantic body was stuffed into it too. “I presume you know why we brought you in today?”
She tested the waters tactically. If Marvin Clark spun a spool of information about Sarah Carling’s situation, we could assume he had some kind of involvement in the debacle.
“Not really, no.” Marvin cluelessly shook his bullet-shaped head. “Your colleague, the one that asked me to come in today, mentioned a minute ago that it had something to do with a missing girl?” he replied politely. He certainly wasn’t acting defensively.
“Something to do with that,” McCall concurred. “I’m DS McCall, and this is our DI--”
“DI Cooper,” I clarified with a sharp nod.
“I’m fronting the case of the disappearance of a young girl. She’s called Sarah Carling,” McCall broke the news softly, curious to see his reaction.
“Sarah Carling? As in--?” All the colour drained from his previously flushed cheeks, complete with various lumps and bumps from the aftermath of teenage acne.
“Your boss's daughter. That’s the one,” she revealed with a hint of sorrow in her tone. All of our team took these cases personally, and we were under a lot of pressure to find this kidnapper.
“I-I had no idea.” Marvin took a minute to collect and regroup. Exhaling a huge sigh of disbelief, he finally gathered himself together and gave a disappointed frown. “Are they okay? The Carlings that is.” He took one look at both of our unimpressed expressions. “No, I suspect they’re not,” he stupidly responded to his own query.
Either this guy was a very good actor, or he had time to prepare his reaction to this news.
“I’m sure it’s self-explanatory as to why we’ve asked you here for questioning,” McCall began. “We just want to find out where you were on the day and the extent of your relationship between you and the Carlings. You and your brother have a history of assault. I actually remembered you subliminally from my early days in the force. You were charged for the injuries of a different girl at the age of twenty-one. Her name was Samantha Jett, although I’m sure you already know who we’re talking about.” McCall popped the lid off a pen, ready to scribble down anything that stood out in particular.
“Memories like that are difficult to forget. But that was a long time ago. I was a different person then. We realised prison wasn’t where we wanted to be and got let out early on account of good behaviour.” Marvin huffed, seemingly tarred for life from his teenage endeavours.
“I’m not surprised. Something like that is hard to forget. Some of the lowest points in our lives stick in our minds,” I mused. I imagined the poor seventeen-year-old who went out one day, unsuspecting that two men twice her size and much older than she, would beat her black and blue. “It would be less cowardly to attack someone your own age if you’re that way inclined.”
“I completely agree,” Marvin candidly admitted. “Me and my brother thought we were street smart, and we got involved in the wrong sorts of people. They threatened us into settling a debt with the girl’s family, and we did so without question.” He wriggled his nose a
shamedly to push up his steamed glasses. The glasses warped our view of his eyes. They were distorted to appear twice their actual size. “I get it. Mud sticks and I worked for the Carlings. We’re the obvious first choice to point the finger at. But, look further at me than the convictions, I beg of you.”
“You and your brother both worked for the Carling business, didn’t you?” McCall intercepted.
Adjusting in the uncomfortable seats, Marvin touched the cross necklace that fell across his clothed chest. “Yes, ma’am, we did for a couple of years. They were giving enough to grant us a second chance when no one else would. They sorted us out, and we changed our lives in return,” he recalled. “We owe them a heck of a lot.”
Trying to figure this out, I interrupted again. “Is that why you paid them money instead of accepting it? The Carlings that is.”
“Yes, DI Cooper, sir,” Marvin answered politely. “I couldn’t stand to see their business failing, not after they’d given us a chance and taken us under their wing. Barely anyone else would employ us until Bob and Julie Carling did. It was my duty as a friend and employee to help them out with a few of their debts.” The gold on his back teeth glinted under the dim lights.
Grunting in response, I fired back with another question. We’d agreed to keep the heat on until one of them buckled under pressure. “And that would benefit both you and Jerry financially by keeping them afloat. Were you hoping they’d earn the money back and more if the business was kept afloat? That they’d pay you back in return for the kind gesture of getting the Carlings out of a rut? Or was it to make yourselves seem like decent people?”
“Of course not!” Marvin scratched his neck incredulously. “It’s the belief of the church that doing good for other people makes you feel better about yourself.”
“And then what?” I wondered. “You’ve now lost your steady income from the job, as well as that extra money you invested. Taking Sarah Carling would be the perfect act of revenge on the two people who left you penniless. Asking for £20,000 was easy because you know they’d give anything to get Sarah back. That’s the beauty of getting close to people and working alongside them. You end up knowing them inside and out and what would trigger them, who you could use as leverage this time around.”
McCall stole a weird glance towards me. I hoped my words weren't misconstrued as some subtle hint towards our working bond. They weren’t intended that way.
“I don’t know what you mean, DI Cooper,” Marvin sounded flabbergasted. “I don’t need the money as much as they do. I gave them that money so they could provide for young Sarah, as God would want me to do. As long as I’ve got his love in my heart, I've got everything I need.” Marvin’s sweaty hands clasped tightly together as though praying.
I didn’t have the time nor patience to accommodate his religious habits in this interviewing room.
“What about your own food?” I pressed. “Rent money for your own home? You gave the Carlings a heck of a lot of money, more than even we’d earn in half a year. Are you saying that was out of pure kindness?” McCall coughed discreetly to calm my rising temper. “DS McCall is my friend, but even I wouldn’t lend her that sort of money. No offence.”
She rolled her agate eyes, clearly taking offence. “None taken, DI Cooper,” she forgave and forgot immediately, shifting her attention back to Marvin once more.
“Kindness is a virtue, as is patience. My family is helpful, and they lend me what I need. The rest I get from the Lord above,” Marvin explained, treating us like children who didn’t understand the concept of his beliefs. “I understand what you’re trying to do here, sir. You suspect that it was me. I hate to disappoint you and the easy collar, but I’ve genuinely turned over a new leaf. I saw my way of living wasn’t living at all, and it didn’t bring me joy or happiness. I hurt people for a living.” Marvin blinked in quick succession. “Plus, you can search my home if it would prove more than my words can. You won't find Sarah Carling there.”
The righteous act mustn’t distract us from our goal of finding Sarah Carling safe and sound. He had the temptation and means of experience that it would take to plan and carry out a kidnapping. A leopard doesn’t change its spots, and a lion wouldn’t ignore a piece of meat if it was dangled in front of him. Given the opportune moment, could Marvin and Jerry have the motive and determination to pull this off?
“Well, you do sound like a changed man. It’s a very drastic transformation from the brothers that were charged with assault.” McCall’s patience was a thing to be marvelled at.
“People can change, sometimes,” Marvin Clark challenged our views and scratched his tattoos thoughtlessly. “It may be a rarity, but it happens. Everything is purely circumstantial.”
McCall had enough of the dead ends we were getting. “This is only an interview, Marvin. We aren’t pinning anything on you… yet.” She rifled through her writing. “Where were you on the day of the kidnapping, on the 13th of April? Between the hours of two to three, to be precise?”
“Unlucky for some,” I dryly commented.
Marvin glanced up at the ceiling, trying to remember his whereabouts. “Uhm.”
“Surely you shouldn’t have to think that hard, Marvin? There’s a girl’s life potentially at stake here. We don’t have all the time in the world,” I exaggerated sarcastically.
Mavin pretended that I hadn’t said anything. “I started off at the church and talked to a few people there. They’d be more than happy to back that up. Then, I went shopping. Just the everyday food shop, nothing particularly exciting. It was at the local Asda, and I'm sure there are CCTVs all over that place too.”
“Right, well. Thank you for clarifying,” McCall stared at Marvin, still trying to size him up. “We’ll get someone to check over that straight away. Now, we’d like to speak with your brother too. Could you tell him to come in and speak to us? We couldn’t get a hold of him ourselves. But you two were very close, from the last I saw of you. Working together at the Carlings must’ve been quite stressful.” She rifled through the statement she’d written during the course of the interview, checking for any final loopholes.
“Not in the slightest,” Marvin declined our suspicions. “We were definitely always close from our childhood to men. We went through the same hardships and life lessons. The same learning curve, I guess you could say.” He elongated his neck in pride and dignity.
“Then where is he?” I clicked my weighted tongue. “You may have changed, but the same can’t be said for Jerry Clark until he tells us the same damn thing himself.”
“He’s not guilty,” Marvin insisted and wet his lips using his tongue. “I swear that much. I’d bet my life on that fact.” His tone carried all the ferocity of a wild animal.
“So, where is he?” My argumentative nature wouldn’t be quelled that easily. “Like we’ve already stated before until your brother can’t be discounted until he corroborates with the claim that he is indeed innocent or that he doesn’t have a clue where Sarah could be.”
“Well--” Marvin started to talk over me, but I wasn’t quite finished.
“As I was saying, we need to search every avenue possible. We left messages to Jerry’s phone and still haven’t gotten a reply--”
“Jerry isn’t--” Marvin tried to interrupt once more.
I refused to be deterred. “I don’t want to carry out a full search and waste police time if he’s simply ignoring us on purpose to provoke a reaction. You may have altered your ways, but Jerry may still be in contact with your old associates,” I suggested and tapped the table decisively, which seemed to provoke a substantial reaction from the beefcake of a guy.
“If you would let me speak?” Marvin Clark threw his hands into the air out of annoyance.
“DI Cooper!” McCall threw me an exasperated glare. “Please, let him speak. It’s just an interview.”
I deflated, allowing Marvin his turn at last. Shaking himself out of the sudden anger, it didn’t take long for Marvin to snap out of the tr
ance and apologise. Marvin started to sniff, and he stared blankly at the wall behind us. It was unusual seeing a tough man crumble under pressure.
“Could I have some water? Please?” he requested, reddened and embarrassed at the unexpected wave of emotion.
I was hooked out of morbid curiosity, wondering exactly what had provoked him. I understood that our tactics were harsh but certainly not barbaric enough to make an adult cry. McCall instantly filled up a plastic cup at his request.
“Of course. Take your time, as much as you may need.”
It was awkward, waiting for Marvin to pull himself together. Staring at the floor, it took a while for him to compose himself and speak up.
“Uhm, Jerry died nearly a month ago, not long after the Carlings’ business went downhill. He was run over by a car. It was a pure accident. We held a funeral in the local church where he’s buried,” Marvin’s face glazed over in memory of his brother. “I turned to God to help me through losing the person I trusted most. I hope you can understand my hesitation to explain that. It’s still very fresh in my mind.”
Distortion fogged up even the clearest of my thoughts at his confession. An epiphany of distance noise built in my throbbing head, ringing through my ears. The normal equilibrium of my everyday self was thrown off-kilter, and a feeling of intense nausea rose from the pit of my stomach, threatening to spill out of my mouth. I swallowed the bile and took some of the water meant for Marvin. McCall only had to look over to see I wasn’t in good shape.
“I’m sorry for treating you… uh, for being so tough,” I amended gruffly. “I wasn’t fully aware of the circumstances. I am very sorry for your loss, more than I can explain.” Marvin Clark’s admittance had caught me off-guard, but I tried hard to pull it together again. “I’m sorry.”
Abduction in Dalgety Bay Page 10
