Don't Push Me

by Ewan McGregor

  Prentice enjoyed the challenges his work brought. He knew missing-person cases were hard to solve, and often many of the cases evolved into murder enquiries. He wasn’t sure which way this one would go, but if he were to play the percentages, he would hazard a guess that at this point in the enquiry there was a fifty per cent chance of the girl being found alive and well. Donaldson wouldn’t even entertain such a thought. He was very much of the opinion that the girl had come to grievous harm.

  Family and friends is where Prentice always started these investigations. More often than not, the missing person had confided to someone close about what they planned to do. Or a close person was responsible for something nasty happening to them. Either way, it normally involved someone they knew. Of course, some missing people did not want to be found but, on the face of it, this didn’t seem to be the case here. Prentice knew, especially with younger folk, that social media and mobile phones played key roles in any enquiry. He had already instructed some of his guys to focus on her accounts and try to track down her phone. He wanted to know the last time her phone had been used and, if possible, where. He wanted to know everything about her social-media usage. He was good at his job and would leave no stone unturned in finding the young girl. Hopefully she would turn up unharmed.

  The case would undoubtedly receive good media attention and Prentice had been instructed by DCI Brannigan to make the best use of it and to let him know when he was needed to go on camera. Prentice was not to ‘let them down’ or ‘make the force look bad’ after a string of cases which had resulted in adverse publicity. Trust in Police Scotland was at an all-time low according to the media, but then again when was that not the case?

  46

  Kat arrived at work to find the place swarming with police. They were gathered outside the bank on Bothwell Street, inside at the front lobby handing out leaflets with Rachel’s photo on it and in the office where both Kat and Rachel worked. Kat took one of the proffered sheets and headed up the stairs. It wasn’t a shock seeing the police at the bank – she had expected them to come. However, the sheer number of officers was surprising. All you read about was cutbacks in the police force, yet there must have been around thirty officers at the bank. This showed how seriously they were taking Rachel’s disappearance. They were being organised by two men in suits. They were an odd-looking couple. One was very tall and looked like he could be a male model, with an expensive suit and designer stubble. The other was smaller in height but hugely overweight, with what looked like egg stains on his garish tie.

  Kat wasn’t as nervous as she ought to have been in this situation, which felt strange. She had to admit to herself that her life was a hell of a lot better without Rachel in it, and it would be even better still if Kirsty had suffered the same fate. If Kirsty went away for killing or helping Stephen to kill Rachel then Kat would be delighted. It would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

  Kat entered her office, where yet more police were gathered. She was relieved she had got rid of Rachel’s phone. It would have made things very stressful indeed if she was still carrying that about.

  After a while Tony gathered the team together. This was a rare occurrence indeed; he normally just sat alone in his office surfing the internet. By the look of his puffy red eyes he had been crying. He looked frantic. His eyes were darting around the room as he spoke.

  ‘Right, folks, listen up. The police are going to have a word with all of us. They’ve set up in the meeting room. If you know anything about where Rachel is then you need to tell them. You need to. Anything. Any information at all will help. We all just want her back,’ Tony said, sniffing back yet more tears. Many of the staff looked perplexed as to why Tony was so upset. Kat knew the reason all too well.

  Kat watched throughout the morning as some of her colleagues went in to be questioned. The whole office was alive with chatter about Rachel. The gossips were having a field day. Where was she? What had happened to her? What was the deal with Tony crying?

  Kat’s turn came just after her morning break. The two police officers welcomed her into the room which was used for team meetings on the odd occasion they actually took place. She closed the door behind her and sat across from them. Kat didn’t feel nervous; she wasn’t sweating. She seemed, if anything, a little numb to the whole situation. She had known the police would probably want to speak to her and all of her colleagues at some point, and she’d played this scenario through many times in her head over the past few days. What she should say. What she shouldn’t say. How she should act.

  ‘As you know, we’re here today about the disappearance of Rachel Strang. We’re trying to gather as much detail as possible about her movements. When was the last time you saw Rachel?’ the female officer asked. She was smartly dressed and had introduced herself. Kat couldn’t recall if it was her first or last name that was Kelly. The bald male officer had a notepad at the ready for any nuggets of information. His name was Angus, and again Kat wasn’t sure if this was a Christian or surname.

  Kat focused on the question. She couldn’t very well say, ‘The last time I saw Rachel, I was setting her on fire to dispose of any evidence because unfortunately we had a struggle in the car park and she died.’ She composed herself and answered sensibly.

  ‘I think it would have been Monday in the office.’

  ‘Did you notice anything off about Rachel or anything unusual?’ Kelly said.

  ‘To be honest, me and Rachel aren’t really that friendly – I don’t really speak to her much at all. You know how it is, young girl like that, she probably doesn’t have much in common with someone like me. So no I didn’t really notice anything, but then again I wouldn’t really have been looking,’ Kat said. She was rambling on a bit. She had made sure to use the present tense when talking about Rachel.

  ‘Have you any idea what might have happened to her or if anyone had any grievance against Miss Strang?’ the male officer, Angus, asked. He looked thoroughly bored. He had sat through ten or so of these meetings already today so who could blame him.

  ‘I don’t have a clue. I wish I could be more help, I really do, but the first I heard about all of this was on the news this morning. It was a shock, I can tell you. I just hope she’s back soon.’

  This seemed to satisfy both officers, although they looked a little downtrodden with the news that yet another interview wasn’t going to glean them any useful information.

  ‘If you can think of anything further then please get in touch with us,’ Kelly said hopefully.

  ‘I’ve got the number on the leaflet here, so I’ll be in touch if I can offer any help,’ Kat replied.

  The two officers seemed to have exhausted their line of questioning. It had been exactly as Kat expected. There was no reason for them to be asking Kat much about Rachel – as far as they were concerned they were work colleagues who hadn’t had much to do with each other. Further down the line though, there might be some harder or more awkward questions to answer.

  Kat was on her way out of the meeting room when something struck her. She turned with the door slightly ajar.

  ‘Why is Tony so upset about Rachel going missing? I mean, we all want her found but why is he in tears? Does he know something we don’t?’ Kat said.

  The two officers looked at Kat and considered what she had said. It seemed like new information to them. They looked interested for the first time since the meeting began.

  ‘Thanks for your help, Miss Matthews.’ the male officer said.

  ‘No problem. No problem at all,’ Kat said, leaving the room.

  47

  Kat got home earlier than usual from work. She didn’t have a dead girl’s phone to dissect in a dodgy cafe tonight, and she hadn’t stayed on later to make up the rest of the time she owed. She turned on the television for the STV news at 6 p.m. Kat knew with certainty that Rachel would be on it. It was a given after seeing first-hand the sheer number of police assigned to find her. However, she had no idea Rachel would be the top st
ory. The news anchor gave a brief synopsis of the events so far and then handed over to a young female reporter who was standing outside Rachel’s house with a forced look of concern on her face. The house with the shed in the garden where Kat had hidden the phone. The house where Rachel had stayed with her mother, stepfather and stepsister. It felt surreal watching the place on the news. Kat listened intently to the report.

  ‘What started out as a missing-person enquiry has quickly evolved into something far more sinister it would seem today. Police sources have told us that they are extremely concerned about the whereabouts and well-being of nineteen-year-old Rachel Strang, who hasn’t been seen for several days now. Police are saying tonight that this is highly unusual for the teenager who is very sociable and has never been out of contact with her friends and family for any period of time.

  ‘Police have today been at Rachel’s workplace in Glasgow city centre and have spent a considerable period of time at the family home behind me, where forensic officers have been coming and going all day. The family car has also been taken away for testing. Now, this in itself doesn’t mean that Rachel has come to any harm; however, it is a very concerning time for all who know her. Anyone who has any information about Rachel’s whereabouts is urged to get in contact with Police Scotland on the number on screen now. Also, the police are asking if anyone has any dash-cam footage from the St George’s Cross area of the city that might show Rachel can they get in touch? Back to you in the studio, John.’

  In the background you could clearly see forensic officers in their white suits coming and going. They had erected a blue tent at the side of the front door. They were sure to look in the shed and find the phone. The fact they had taken away the family car for testing also indicated that the police knew Rachel was dead – and that family members might be involved. Kat wasn’t expecting reporters to be camped outside the house. Not yet. No body had been found, but it showed that the police and media were taking the case very seriously indeed.

  Kat rewound the report and watched it again.

  48

  ‘I saw your work on the telly, Katherine,’ Maureen Matthews said. ‘Some lassie’s gone missing?’ Kat wasn’t even in the door yet.

  ‘Yeah, a girl called Rachel Strang. Been missing for a while now,’ Kat said. She was already on the back foot; she hadn’t expected her mother to quiz her on this. However, Rachel had been on every news report and was on the front page of most newspapers. The media had been camped outside her house and outside the bank for a couple of days now.

  ‘How come you never mentioned it and I had to hear about it on the bloody news like every other Tom, Dick and Harry?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was that interesting to be honest—’

  ‘Not that interesting? What’s the point of having my only daughter working in the very place a girl goes missing and she doesn’t even tell her old mum about it? I had to hear it off that bloody Lena McPherson.’

  ‘Sorry, Mum; I should have mentioned it. Anyway—’

  ‘I take it you don’t like her?’

  ‘What? No, I—’

  ‘Your old mum’s hit the nail on the head, hasn’t she? I can see it on your face – you hated her. What was she like? Do you think she’s come to a sticky end?’ Maureen said.

  This was worse than the police interrogation. Maureen was asking more questions than Mrs Paterson and the police put together. Her mother could play the dottery old fool when it suited her, but she was obviously still as sharp as a tack.

  ‘Don’t be silly – I never hated her,’ Kat said.

  ‘You’re talking like she’s deed. You do think something’s happened to her, don’t you?’ Maureen was enjoying herself.

  ‘No, I – I mean… I don’t know but when someone goes missing and they’re not found after a while you begin to fear the worst.’

  ‘Spit it out, Katherine – tell me what you know.’

  ‘I don’t know anything, honestly.’

  ‘You’re glad she’s gone missing though, aren’t you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘I could always tell when you were lying; you were never any good at it. I caught you out every single time when you were younger. You’ve no’ exactly got a good poker face.’ Maureen laughed.

  ‘I’m not lying, Mum. Okay, I didn’t like her, but I don’t know anything about what’s happened to her.’

  If Kat was crumbling in a conversation with her elderly mother, what would she be like if the police did eventually catch up with her again? She’d be bang to rights.

  ‘Why didn’t you like her?’ Maureen wasn’t for letting it go. She was like a dog with a bone.

  ‘Will you just leave it, Mum? The girl’s missing; hopefully she’ll be found soon,’ Kat said, trying to shut the conversation down.

  ‘Still doesn’t change the fact you hated the poor wee lassie.’

  ‘Poor wee lassie? What kind of poor wee lassie terrorizes someone for absolutely no reason? What kind of poor wee lassie comes round, gains access to your house and kills your fucking cat!’ Kat had lost her temper and she instantly regretted it.

  ‘What? She killed Kiddles? She terrorized you?’ Maureen said, stunned at her daughter’s outburst.

  Kat was in tears now; there was a mixture of anger and relief spilling out of her. It felt good to eventually tell someone about the bullying. She hadn’t told a single soul apart from Tony in the months it had been going on.

  ‘Yeah, she killed my cat and she’s been bullying me in work for months now,’ Kat said through the tears.

  ‘How could you let this go on? You need to—’

  ‘Mum, I really don’t need a lecture, and I don’t want you telling anyone else anything about it. I want you to promise me you won’t repeat a word of what I just said.’

  ‘What?

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘Who do you think I’m going to tell? Half of the folk in here can’t remember how to tie their shoelaces…’

  ‘Promise me, Mum.’

  ‘Katherine, I promise. I’ll not say a word about it. I’ll tell you one thing though… I hope the little cow has come to a sticky end.’

  49

  Archie Thomson was pushing seventy years old but was still responsible – either directly or indirectly – for a large portion of all organised crime taking place in Glasgow. Drugs, prostitution, robberies, human trafficking – you name it, Archie Thomson had his grubby paws all over it. However, he was a slippery customer. He always had a ready alibi or some stooge to take the fall. He also never personally touched anything illegal. He hadn’t served a sentence in a Scottish prison since a two-year stint in Barlinnie around twenty years ago.

  Prentice and Donaldson knew Thomson spent a lot of his time in an office next to one of his many nail bars – who knew gangsters like him knew so much about women’s nails? Prentice opened the door of the office without knocking. Their luck was in – Archie was in residence.

  ‘Officers, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?’ Thomson said, a large smile engulfing his weasel face.

  ‘Morning, Archie. We were wondering if we could have a word about Rachel Strang?’ Prentice said before Donaldson got the chance to talk.

  ‘Rachel Strang? You’ll need to help me out here, boys.’

  ‘She’s engaged to your nephew – Jason,’ Donaldson said as he took in the surroundings.

  ‘Jason? I didn’t even know he was seeing a lassie, never mind engaged. Truth be told, I thought the boy was gay.’ Archie laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m a busy man so let’s get this moving… what’s happened to the lassie?’

  ‘Miss Strang has disappeared. We were wondering if you had any idea of her whereabouts?’ Prentice said. Both detectives knew this meeting would get them absolutely nowhere, but they had to meet him. Archie Thomson wouldn’t help them even if he could.

  ‘She’s probably ran away before she has to marry that big numpty Lurch.’ Thomson laughed at his own joke. ‘Honestly, boys, you’ve had a
wasted journey. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about this wee girl. I’ll need to get in touch with Jason though, congratulate the big lanky streak of piss for finally finding someone daft enough to marry him!’

  Donaldson was already turning to leave. He hated Archie Thomson more than he hated most of the Glasgow criminal fraternity. Thomson found great pleasure in giving Police Scotland the runaround. He would always make time for them, knowing full well that they had nothing they could put him away for.

  ‘Do you think Jason could be involved in anything that might endanger his fiancée?’ Prentice asked.

  ‘Jason? I doubt it very much. Although saying that – he’s not the brightest is our Jason, so who’s to say?’ Thomson said.

  ‘Archie, if you do find out anything or if Jason is involved in something that’s led to Rachel getting into bother then give me a call.’ Prentice handed his card to the old gangster, who pocketed it. Everyone in the room knew there would be no phone calls forthcoming.

  ‘Aye, no bother, chaps.’ Archie smiled. ‘I’ll be on the bell with any information I come across.’

  ‘Thanks for your time, Archie,’ Prentice said, heading for the door. Donaldson was already halfway out it.

  ‘Is that it? No’ much of an interrogation that. You need to brush up on your interviewing skills, lads,’ Thomson said. ‘Sure you don’t want to pop in next door and get your nails done?’ He was enjoying himself.