‘Alexander Russell. Now Lord Russell of Findale.’
‘Crikey. No wonder the DCI’s keeping in with her.’
‘Yep. Our Jennifer went to private school in Perthshire then spent two years at Edinburgh University. Not sure what she studied but she left after that. Worked in Daddy’s office for a few years, helping out, while playing tennis and hanging about with the county set. Married Bruce Gilmartin when she was twenty-four and hasn’t worked since. I’m guessing she’s a lady who lunches.’ He shook his head. ‘Nice work if you can get it.’
Clare sat mulling this over. ‘On balance,’ she said, ‘I think I’d rather not be married to someone like Bruce Gilmartin, even if it does mean working all the hours God sends for very little thanks.’
‘Suppose.’
Clare stretched out her legs, making circles with her ankles. She yawned. ‘God I’m tired, Chris. So – anything else?’
Chris shuffled through the printouts until he found the one he needed. ‘Land Rovers. I’ve a list of all vehicles first registered ten and eleven years ago. There are only two within fifty miles of here. Our stolen one – you know, Fergus Bain’s – and one out at Cairnharrow Farm.’
Clare searched her memory. The name wasn’t familiar. ‘Where’s that?’
‘Over towards Cupar. I can go now and check it if you like?’
‘See if there’s anyone at Cupar who could look at it for us. Check for damage. Save us some time.’ Clare checked her watch. ‘Let’s get some lunch. The rest of the team should be heading back soon.’ Her phone buzzed with a message and she took it out to check it.
Tom.
Sitting outside your station. Up here seeing a client. Fancy lunch on me?
She sighed and went to the door. A sleek, silver Audi sat in the car park and she could see the familiar outline of his head, his hair falling over his eyes as it did when it needed a cut. She walked over to the car. The window was down and she looked in. Despite her misgivings she felt a rush of pleasure at seeing him.
Tom’s face lit up and Clare suddenly remembered how infectious his easy, familiar smile was. But there was no time for that now. She had to focus.
Tom reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘Clare, you look great. How are you?’
Clare squeezed his hand then let it drop. ‘Busy. I have a double murder that’s just become complicated.’
‘Too busy for lunch?’
‘Sorry. Another time perhaps.’
‘Thing is, I’m free for the rest of the day. And I’m here now. If you can’t do lunch, could I take you out for dinner?’ He saw her hesitate. ‘Or I could cook? I’ll buy a couple of steaks and make a salad. Warm up some ciabattas?’
In spite of herself, Clare was tempted. Tom was an excellent cook and the idea of coming home after a very long day to a home-cooked meal was appealing. Perhaps Jennifer Gilmartin had a point.
He saw his chance. ‘Great. I’ll buy the makings of dinner. Just text when you’re on your way home and I’ll open the wine.’
‘Better not have wine. In case I’m called out.’
‘Half a glass then. I’ll buy something really lovely and you can just have a taste.’
‘Oh, go on then. Actually, there’s the remains of a bottle of Chianti I opened on Monday. Would that do?’
‘Definitely not. But I’ll use it to make a sauce. Keys?’
She took out her house keys. ‘I’ll be late though, Tom. You could be hanging about for ages.’
‘No problem. Anything you want done in the house? Any shopping? Dry cleaning? Make use of me when you’re obviously so busy. I’ll only be kicking my heels around St Andrews until you finish.’
She shook her head. ‘No, honestly, it’s fine. But thanks for offering.’
‘You’re so stubborn. Let me help, for goodness’ sake.’
She pondered this. ‘If you really want to help the grass needs a cut, although you won’t want to get your nice clothes messy.’
‘It’s okay – I have an overnight bag. Thought I might have to stay over if my appointment ran on.’
She looked at him. ‘Oh, really?’
‘Oh really!’
‘All right, the mower’s in the shed. And there’s a few bags for the charity shop, if you don’t mind wandering back into town. They’re in the spare room. And the hall light blew the other night. Spare bulbs are in the hall cupboard.’
‘Leave it to me.’
‘And now, I must go. I have a briefing at one and the troops will be back any time.’ She made to move away and he reached for her hand again.
‘And Clare…’
She avoided his eye. ‘Yes?’
‘We should talk. Tonight.’
Clare sighed. ‘Tom, I’m snowed under just now.’
‘All right. Let’s see how you feel later on. Love you…’
She didn’t respond but walked back to the station door. Did she love him? She thought she had, once. But that was before the business with Francis Ritchie. The Inquiry that Tom said he couldn’t attend – even to support her. And, sitting there in that airless room, while the bones of the shooting were picked over, Clare knew that something had gone from their relationship; and that it would never be quite the same again.
Chapter 16
They assembled in the room, just after one. Sara sat near the back of the room with Connor, Steve and Phil. Chris, who Clare noticed hadn’t gelled with the lads from Edinburgh, perched on a desk in the corner. She saw that his eye kept straying across to Sara who was having an animated chat with the three lads. He doesn’t like them chatting her up, Clare thought and she wondered whether it was a case of Chris resenting the incomers, or if there was more to it than that. Jim sat near the door, keeping an eye on the front desk and the others were scattered around the room, sitting or standing in any available space.
‘Right,’ Clare began. ‘First of all, Chris has looked into our three victims and their relatives. A couple of them, Angela Robb and Billy Dodds have some previous but nothing I think that’s relevant to our investigations. So, for now, I’m ruling out any family involvement.’
Phil raised his hand. ‘Anything from SOCO that might help us?’
‘Thanks, Phil. We might have something.’
They were all alert now, the room silent. Clare said, ‘There was a partial shoe print on Andy Robb’s shirt and SOCO think it’s more than likely a woman’s shoe.’
There was a low murmur round the room as they digested this.
‘Now, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be a woman,’ Clare said. ‘But remember we have two sets of fingerprints on those cards so let’s keep our options open.’
There was no response to this and she pressed on. ‘Fingertips. Anyone with a damaged middle finger?’
Heads shook.
‘Okay. Anyone who doesn’t work Thursday nights?’
Again, this was met with a negative response. ‘They all seem to work a mix of shifts,’ said Jim, ‘although the manager at The Harvest Moon confirmed Nat Dryden always has a Thursday night off.’
‘Thanks, Jim,’ Clare said. ‘So, cars,’ she continued. ‘Where are we with that?’
Chris rose. ‘Cupar lads checked out the ten-year-old Land Rover at Cairnharrow Farm. No damage.’
‘Thanks, Chris.’ She looked round the room. ‘We now know that the Land Rover used last night to injure Nat Dryden was a Defender, ten or eleven years old. Or at least the paint is. So far we’ve turned up only two. The one that Chris has had checked out and our accordion player’s stolen car.’
‘Are we sure it was stolen?’ asked Jim.
‘Good point, Jim. We only have Fergus Bain’s word for it. He could be hiding it somewhere, although goodness knows where. It’s not turned up on any ANPR cameras.’
‘If he was being careful, he would avoid routes with cameras,’ Chris said.
‘True. If our killer is clever enough to lure the victims out into the open, he’s probably savvy enough to avoid cameras too.’
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‘Are we treating Mr Bain as a suspect?’ Steve asked.
‘Not necessarily. If he has hidden the car, he could be after the insurance money or there might be another reason he doesn’t want it found. Maybe he had an accident, driving over the limit. It’s not impossible he’s involved but he couldn’t have killed Andy Robb. Also let’s not forget: we do have two sets of prints.’
‘I think it’s worth bringing Bain in for an interview,’ Chris said. ‘Lean on him a bit. See how he reacts. He may know something about the car. Could be nothing to do with the murders. As you say, it may be an insurance job and now, with these killings, he’s too scared to say anything.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ Clare said. ‘We don’t want to scare him off and we don’t want to be bounced into arresting him. As soon as we do that, the clock starts ticking and we haven’t nearly enough to charge him yet. I’m not even sure he’s involved. I think we’ll drop into the cottage again and chat to him there. See if we can get to the bottom of that Land Rover.’
Phil raised his hand. ‘We’ve notified all the local garages and body shops from Dundee down to Kirkcaldy and over to Kinross. Anyone brings a Land Rover in, they’ll give us a shout.’
‘Thanks, Phil. What about farms? Any of them with damaged vehicles?’
‘Sorry, boss, negative on that,’ Phil said.
‘Okay, thanks, Phil.’ Clare looked at Sara. ‘Any luck with betting shops or casinos?’
‘Sorry, no positive IDs, boss.’
‘Thanks, Sara. And, phone records for the victims? Any numbers in common?’
The uniformed cops who had been checking phone records shook their heads.
Clare looked round the room. ‘Right. What I’m about to say does not go outside this room. Understood?’
There were nods and murmurs of agreement. All eyes were on Clare.
‘It is possible that our victims were targeted because they were involved in a paedophile ring.’
A low hum went round the room. Clare waited for it to subside then went on.
‘Now this is obviously a highly sensitive area, particularly because DCI Gibson is a personal friend of the Gilmartins, so choose your words carefully when you’re speaking to him.’
‘Can you tell us what the evidence is, Clare?’ Jim asked.
Clare hesitated for a moment. ‘We’ve recovered images from Nat Dryden’s laptop that show men engaged in sexual activity with what look to be early to mid-teen boys and girls.’
Someone muttered ‘dirty bastards.’
Clare pressed on. ‘I’ve asked Tech Support to crop the photos so we can show only the men’s head and shoulders to relatives of our three victims. The quality isn’t great, but Chris and I think one looks very like Andy Robb.’
‘And that web address, boss.’
‘Thanks, Chris. I was coming to that. We also found a note beside Nat Dryden’s laptop with the address of a website on the dark web. The website’s called Playroom and Tech Support hope to crack Nat’s password. If they do, we can log in and have a look. So, we now have two parallel investigations. The Land Rover attacks and the paedophile ring.’
‘Any indication of where the ring is operating?’
‘If Andy Robb is involved then it could either be west, towards Balmullo, east to Tayport or north to the Tay Coast or even Dundee and beyond.’
‘Negative on the Tay Road Bridge,’ Chris said. ‘Sorry, boss, with these photos, I forgot to mention it.’
‘No problem. That means it’s definitely in north-east Fife.’
‘There might be EXIF data on the photos,’ Steve said.
‘Which would tell us what?’
‘Location, date, time, even the device used to take the photos.’
‘Thanks, Steve,’ Clare said. ‘I’ll ask Tech Support about that too. Finally, there’s a night watchman over at the beer festival, on the road to Strathkinness. There’s no CCTV footage from last night but he was on duty from ten until eight this morning. It’s the same road our killer would have taken from Hepburn Gardens, assuming he isn’t keeping the vehicle in town, which I doubt. I’ll pop over to see the night watchman mid-afternoon. Maybe call in on Fergus Bain on the way back.’
Chris raised his hand. ‘Boss, what if the men in the photo aren’t our victims?’
‘Then we have absolutely no bloody idea who our killer is. Come to that, even if the victims are the men in the photos we still don’t know who the killer is. But at least we’d have an idea why they’re being killed.’
The room fell silent.
‘I know,’ Clare said. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’
Jim was the first to find his voice. ‘What would you like us to do this afternoon, Clare?’
‘Start by checking known sex-offenders in the area. Pay them a visit. See if they go out on Thursday nights. Scare the shit out of them with talk of a murderer roaming around. No reference to the hit-and-runs. Just put the wind up them. See if any of them knows anything. Even if they aren’t involved, they may know something. Bring them in, if necessary, and pop them in an interview room to stew for a bit. And get out and about, checking garages and lock-ups for green Land Rovers.’ She turned to Chris. ‘I’d like you to come out with me. See what the night watchman can tell us. Then we’ll call in on Fergus on the way back. And if Diane can do something with the photos, we’ll take them round to the relatives. Might need to choose a couple of discreet work colleagues for Mr Gilmartin. The DCI will knock me into the middle of next week if I go anywhere the fragrant Jennifer.’
Chris nodded. ‘Just let me know when. Meantime, I’ll get onto checking sex-offenders.’
Clare went to update the DCI on the briefing. He listened, tapping his pen on the desk then spoke. ‘I’m not prepared to continue the news blackout any longer, Inspector.’
She could see his point of view. Even if Diane was able to crop the photos quickly, they needed to show them to the relatives to see if they could identify any of the men. It would be dark in a few hours with the potential for another victim that night.
‘Agreed, sir. But if you could keep the detail to a minimum, I’d be grateful.’
‘Leave it with me.’ He picked up the phone to dial the press office.
She left him to it. ‘Let’s go and speak to the night watchman,’ she said to Chris.
He grabbed his jacket and followed her out to the car.
* * *
Strathkinness lay three miles to the west of St Andrews. It was a small village, built on a slope, the original sandstone dwellings joined in recent years by more modern housing. Ralph Paterson’s house was near the top of the village, a small, single-storey, terraced cottage on Church Road. The curtains were drawn and there was no sign of life. Clare looked at her watch. It was past three o’clock. ‘Let’s knock him up. Can’t afford to wait any longer.’
It took a good few minutes for Ralph Paterson to come to the door. He was wearing jogging bottoms and a T-shirt. He yawned widely. ‘Yeah?’
Clare introduced herself and Chris, and he stood back to let them in. He moved a couple of car magazines from the sofa and invited them to sit.
‘Mr Paterson, we’re keen to trace a green Land Rover Defender that may have been driven along the road, outside the entrance to the Beer Bonanza last night. The road would have been quiet at the time and we’re wondering if you might have seen it.’
Ralph rubbed his eyes. ‘Last night, you say?’
‘Yes. It would have been sometime between half-eleven and midnight.’
Ralph lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment before he spoke. ‘I started at ten and I always have a mug of tea. It’s usually about half-ten before everyone leaves. Have to keep a careful eye on the gates then. Easy for someone to slip in or a couple of kegs to slip out, ye know.’
Clare smiled. ‘Go on.’
‘It was wet last night – with the haar. Drizzly, ye ken? First wet night for a while. And I remember because the grass at the gate was pretty churned up and
then a lorry arrived late. Boy had a blow out on the M8 and sat for three hours waiting on a recovery vehicle. So, he turns up about the back of eleven. And then he gets the lorry stuck. Eight-wheeler, so pretty heavy. He had umpteen cuts at trying to get in. Thought we were gonnae have to take down a bit of fencing or even unload on the road. In the end, the boy helped me roll out a couple of lengths of rubber mesh and he finally got in.’
‘So, the two of you were at the gate for quite a while then?’
‘Aye.’
‘Would you know what time you left the gate?’
‘I made the lad a coffee and he finished it just as the news was ending on the radio so that would be a bit after midnight. I’m guessing we went into the cabin maybe ten to twelve.’
Clare leaned forward. ‘Ralph, this is very important. Did any cars pass you as you were helping the lorry driver?’
‘I doubt it. The lorry was blocking the road. It swung out to turn then the front wheels got stuck.’
‘So you would have seen if a Land Rover had gone past, say, between half-eleven and ten to twelve?’
‘Definitely. It wouldn’t have got past.’
‘And after ten to twelve?’ It was a long shot but Clare thought it worth asking.
‘Sorry, couldn’t say. I directed the lorry in, saw him parked, then headed in here to make the lad a drink.’
Clare got to her feet. ‘Thanks Ralph. Just one last thing. If you do see any Land Rovers going up or down the road would you let me know, please? Especially if they’re damaged round the front.’
Ralph agreed he would and the pair left. Out in the car, Chris said, ‘Fergus Bain, now?’
Clare looked at her watch. ‘He might still be out on the farm.’
‘Worth a try.’
‘Yep, let’s see if we can catch him.’ Clare pulled away and drove on until she came to a wider part of the street. She executed a three-point turn and headed back towards the St Andrews road.
As luck would have it, Fergus Bain was just stepping out of a set of muddy overalls when they drew up outside his cottage. He looked surprised to see them. ‘You’ve no’ found the Land Rover, have you?’
See Them Run Page 15
