‘It is, aye. But I got an absolute discharge.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily absolve you of any guilt, Mr Lea. Why were you harassing her? It wasn’t because you wanted swimming lessons now, was it?’
‘Actually, I wouldn’t call it harassing,’ said Lea. ‘More wooing.’
‘I see. So you tried to woo her by scaring the living daylights out of the woman? By following her everywhere she went?’
‘She didn’t respond to my cards or flowers. And she refused to speak to me if I visited her at work.’
‘Hardly surprising. So just because she spurned your advances, you thought it was okay to stalk her? Can you not take no for an answer?’
‘I thought she was just plain shy,’ said Lea, ‘you know, a wee wallflower. I thought I might be able to bring her out of her shell.’
‘Are you a bit of a fantasist, Mr Lea?’ said Dougal. ‘I mean, do you play out scenarios in your head of what might have happened between you and Miss Wilson?’
‘Oh, that’s deep,’ said Lea. ‘And personal. Deeply personal. I’m afraid I’m not about to share my inner thoughts with the likes of you.’
‘Fair enough. So how did you meet?’
‘I went to enrol at the leisure centre and she was on the desk.’
West, unable to control herself, chuckled aloud and raised a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter.
‘You find that amusing?’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘No offence but you don’t seem the type.’
‘If you must know,’ said Lea curtly, ‘I was after joining the fitness class. I’ve let myself go recently. I used to be quite sporty once upon a time.’
‘I’m sure you were. So did you join?’
‘I did not. No. I got distracted.’
‘By Nancy?’
‘Aye.’
‘And when was the last time you saw her?’
‘Oh, a while now. Months, I’d say.’
‘So you’ve not even spoken to her? Or been to her house? I mean, you know where she lives, don’t you?’
‘Aye, I do,’ said Lea, ‘but I’ve kept my distance. You see, Inspector, even though I got off, it was with the caveat that if I ever went near her again, I’d get a custodial.’
‘Well, it’s nice to see you’ve been behaving yourself,’ said West. ‘Tell me, just out of interest, what do you do for a living?’
‘Living? You mean work? No, no, I don’t work.’
‘Is that because you’re on benefits? Because of your health?’
‘No, it’s because I’m frugal and I can live off what I have. I came into some money a while back.’
‘Lucky you. And would you care to tell us where this money came from?’
‘I would not,’ said Lea. ‘I’m not being funny, hen, I’m happy to tell you anything you want to know about Nancy, but I’m not here to discuss my personal financial affairs.’
West leaned back, locked eyes with Lea, and pondered for a moment.
‘Mind if we take a break?’ she said. ‘We won’t be long.’
‘Take as long as you like.’
‘Can we get you something? A cup of tea? Coffee maybe?’
‘No, you’re alright,’ said Lea. ‘I’m fine just now.’
* * *
West climbed the stairs to the second floor, slumped down on the landing and leaned against the wall, her left foot tapping out an incessant beat like a musician marking time.
‘Let me guess,’ said Dougal, ‘you’re not comfortable with the fact that someone who’s just pledged his undying love for Nancy Wilson is not showing any remorse.’
‘In one,’ said West. ‘You’d have thought he’d have been mortified, burst into tears even, but nothing, just ho-hum another one bites the dust.’
‘Aye, I get that, but do you not think it’s because it wasn’t much of a shock?’
‘You mean like he already knew?’
‘Well, it would take the edge off things. Besides, it’s not as if she’s been the subject of a blackout.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ said West, sighing as the sound of laboured footsteps echoed down the stairwell. ‘The bottom line is we’ve got nothing on him, so we can’t force him to stay.’
‘Aye, and the clock’s ticking on Nevin too,’ said Dougal, ‘we should ask The Bear to authorise an extension.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. Another twelve hours won’t hurt; have a word, would you? And you may as well get a car sorted for Lea, let him go but tell him not to go taking any more trips without telling us first.’
* * *
‘Are you on the naughty step?’ said Duncan, grinning as he plodded down the stairs.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m away to get some lunch before I keel over, what’s your excuse?’
‘We’re thinking,’ said West, ‘and it’s beginning to hurt.’
‘What about?’
‘Lea.’
‘Is he still here?’
‘Yup, but not for long,’ said West. ‘We’re about to let him go.’
‘Not so fast,’ said Duncan tossing them both a pair of gloves, ‘here, you’re going to need these.’
Too tired to question his motives, West snapped on the gloves and, waiting for his next move, stared at him despondently.
‘Oh cheer up, for Christ’s sake,’ he said as he pulled a compact digital camera from his pocket.
‘Where’d you get that?’ said Dougal.
‘Lea’s place. And I’ve got his computer too, it’s on your desk, you’re going to have a ball, trust me.’
‘So you’ve got something?’
‘I have indeed,’ said Duncan as he passed the camera to West. ‘Take a look at that image there…’
‘It’s Nancy Wilson. Where was this taken?’
‘In the office at the leisure centre, miss, but here’s the thing, look at the date.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said West, ‘it’s the day she died! Duncan, I could kiss you!’
‘Cool your jets, miss. I’m spoken for. One more thing, I found a motorcycle helmet and a pair of gloves in the bedroom. I’ve fast tracked it for analysis.’
‘A helmet?’ said Dougal. ‘I don’t recall seeing a bike at his house.’
‘It’s in the garden, pal, it’s hard to spot with all the other junk he’s got lying about the place. I’ve made a note of the index, I’ll run it by the DVLA later and make sure it’s his.’
‘Is that it?’ said West.
‘Is that not enough?’
‘It’s plenty. Go get your lunch, you’ve flipping earned it. Dougal, let’s have another word with that lying toad.’
* * *
‘Alright?’ said West as she sauntered into the interview room. ‘Are you sure about that drink?’
‘Aye,’ said Lea. ‘It’s kind of you to offer but I’m okay for now.’
‘Just as well, because you’re going to need a whisky in a minute. Now, just to be absolutely clear, you say the last time you saw Nancy Wilson was months and months ago, is that right?’
Lea smiled and nodded politely.
‘Aye, that’s right,’ he said. ‘Months and months ago.’
‘Well, the thing is, I’m not sure I believe you. You see, I think you saw her the day she died. I think you were hanging around the leisure centre just like the old days.’
‘And what makes you think that?’
‘This does,’ said West as she laid the camera on the desk.
‘I’m not with you,’ said Lea. ‘What does that have to do with me?’
‘We found it in your house…’
‘Oh, now hold on!’ said Lea. ‘You need a warrant before you go nosing round my home!’
‘No need to worry on that score,’ said Dougal, ‘we’ve got one.’
‘…and what’s more,’ said West, ‘this has got lots of lovely pictures of Nancy on it.’
‘See here,’ said Lea, ‘regardless of whether you have a warrant or n
ot, I’m telling you, that’s not mine.’
‘Well, we’ll get it dusted and if we find your prints on it then you’ll have some explaining to do. Like how all these photos are on your computer too.’
‘You’ve got my computer?’
‘Yup. And that’s just for starters.’
Lea rose to his feet, pulled up his jeans, and scowled at West with a smarmy grin smeared across his face.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘now you’ve gone too far. I think it’s time I left.’
‘Sorry,’ said West. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible anymore.’
‘Oh aye? How so?’
‘Because I’m arresting you under section 1 of the Criminal Justice Act on suspicion of the murder of Nancy Wilson. You are not obliged to say anything but anything you do say will be noted and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’
Chapter 10
Set on a quiet country lane surrounded by woodland and wide, open fields, the school in Palnackie – a whitewashed, single-storey building with a moss-laden roof – had, despite the growth of the village, changed little in its two-hundred-year history.
Relishing the warmth of the afternoon sun, Munro, standing with his jacket slung casually over his shoulder, watched as hordes of screaming children fled its granite walls followed at a sedate pace by a colossus of a man with a snowy white beard wearing a jet black suit looking not unlike a Quaker from Little House on the Prairie.
‘You’re not a parent, are you?’ said Galbraith as he lumbered across the road.
‘Too late for that,’ said Munro with a wink. ‘It’s not changed much, has it?’
‘The school? So you’re familiar with the place then?’
Munro, guessing Galbraith to be at least ten years his junior, took a deep breath and decided to chance his arm.
‘I am,’ he said, smiling nostalgically. ‘I used to be a pupil here.’
Galbraith shot him a wary glance.
‘And when was that?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘About the time Edison had his light bulb moment. Things were different then of course. Life was better.’
‘Put your rose-tinted spectacles away,’ said Galbraith, ‘things haven’t changed that much.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I’d agree with you there,’ said Munro as he recalled Duncan’s invaluable piece of research. ‘The staff didnae have to meet targets in those days, and us weans were allowed to run free. Dinnae get me wrong, we had discipline too, that was thanks to a fellow by the name of Anderson. Eoin Anderson. He ruled the roost with a rod of iron but I’ll give him this, he was firm but fair.’
‘My philosophy exactly,’ said Galbraith, relaxing at the mention of Anderson’s name. ‘Would you care for a look inside Mr…?’
‘Munro. James Munro. Thanks but you’re alright. I’d rather keep my memories intact. So, do you teach here then?’
‘I’m the headmaster. Galbraith’s the name. What brings you here, Mr Munro? I hope you’re not ticking things off a bucket list?’
‘No, no, I’ve been meaning to come for some time, but when I heard about Flora MacDonald, well, that just made the trip all the more poignant.’
‘Aye, dear Flora. A tragedy for sure. So you knew her?’
‘We exchanged pleasantries,’ said Munro. ‘My late wife, Jean, God rest her soul, and myself would often pop into the post office on our way back from Rascarrel.’
‘Rascarrel?’
‘Aye, there’s some fine walking to be had around the bay. You need a head for heights mind; if the wind’s blowing atop the cliff well, you’re taking your life in your hands.’
‘Oh you’re not wrong there,’ said Galbraith. ‘I know it well. I have one of those fancy holiday homes on the beach, have you seen them? The cabins?’
‘No. It’s been a while, I’m afraid, and I’m not up to walking much these days.’
‘They’re something else,’ said Galbraith. ‘All mod cons, a great view, and we even have a hot tub on the deck.’
‘Och, you’ll not catch me in one of those, I prefer my creature comforts indoors. So, is that your retirement home then? Feet up by the beach?’
‘God no, I’ll not be retiring for a while yet, Mr Munro, but I’m good to myself, I’ll tell you that. I’ve invested for the future.’
Munro looked skyward and heaved a sigh.
‘I wish I had,’ he said. ‘You’d think a lifetime in local government would have provided a decent pension, but it doesnae go far. And that was the two of us.’
‘So, your wife was in the same line of work?’
‘Not quite the same, no,’ said Munro. ‘She was an admin assistant in the council planning department. Lots of typing and filing, but she liked her boss, a woman called Muldoon.’
‘Muldoon?’
‘No. Not Muldoon. Mulqueen! That’s it, Mulqueen. They got along famously. So she said.’
‘I crossed swords with a Mulqueen,’ said Galbraith. ‘Over the extension at the school.’
‘Is that so? Well, who’d have thought, eh? It must be that six degrees of separation you hear folk talk about.’
‘Aye, it’s a small world, right enough.’
‘Did she not want you to build it then? This Mulqueen woman?’
‘No, she did not,’ said Galbraith. ‘Between you and me, Mr Munro, she was that far up her own backside she could see her tonsils. You know the type: doesn’t live here, doesn’t work here, but thinks she knows best when it comes to the needs of the community.’
‘Welcome to the world of democracy,’ said Munro. ‘Although, she must have wavered, I mean, you got it built after all.’
‘We did, aye,’ said Galbraith. ‘But it came at a price.’
‘How so?’
Galbraith, almost tripping over his words, coughed as he cleared his throat.
‘I’m speaking metaphorically of course,’ he said. ‘You know, the stress and the strain of it all, jumping through hoops to get not what we want but what we need.’
‘That’s them to a T,’ said Munro, ‘they’ve not respect for anyone unless they’re lining their pockets. I only wish I’d got out sooner and followed a career with a decent pension.’
‘You’re not the only one, Mr Munro. It’s the same for us teachers too but as they say, you can’t take it with you so I’m making the most of it now.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Did you know I’ve a boat as well? It’s nothing grand, mind, but it does the job.’
‘A boat?’ said Munro. ‘Now I’m a wee bit jealous. I used to think I’d be the next Para Handy when I was a wean.’
‘Oh I’m not one for sailing, it’s too much like hard work. No, if we decide on a trip, I pay someone to skipper the boat for us. We just sit back. And relax.’
‘Well, your investments have certainly paid off, Mr Galbraith. A holiday home and a wee boat and you’re not even retired. You must be a whizz on the stock market.’
Galbraith glanced at Munro, thought for a moment, then flung his back and laughed.
‘The stock market?’ he said, smiling as he shook his head. ‘That’s for gamblers, Mr Munro! See here, the way I see it is, if you’re after a good return then it’s too risky, and if you play it safe then you’ll not get a decent return. If there’s one thing I learned from old Jack MacDonald it’s that cash is king. There’s no doubt about it.’
‘Jack MacDonald? Was he not Flora’s husband?’
‘He was indeed. Husband, friend, confidant, and village postmaster for as long as I can remember; and when it came to figures, he had a mind like a calculator.’
‘Have they planted him as well?’
‘He went before Flora. Some say it was his passing that finished her off.’
‘Dear, dear. So Jack wasnae one for the stocks and shares then?’
‘The biggest risk Jack ever took in his entire life was crossing the street. He always said a penny saved was a penny earned and if that didn’t work, then if no-one’s looking, rob Peter t
o pay Paul.’
‘Wise words,’ said Munro. ‘You make it sound as though he robbed the entire county.’
Galbraith opened his mouth as if to speak, hesitated for a moment too long, and laughed.
‘That would never do,’ he said as he brushed the tip of his nose with his finger. ‘Well, it’s been a pleasure, Mr Munro, but I must get on.’
‘Likewise,’ said Munro. ‘I’ve not had my lunch so I’m away to the Glenisle for a fish supper. I’ve not been since my wife passed away.’
‘You’ll enjoy it,’ said Galbraith, ‘it’s not changed in years.’
* * *
As the first customer of the evening, Munro, having his pick of the tables, ordered his food as he breezed by the bar and sat, much to the bewilderment of the staff, in a small booth with his back to the restaurant where he tucked a napkin into his collar, tipped three spoons of sugar into his tea, and hit redial as he waited for his scampi and chips to arrive.
‘Alright, chief?’ said Duncan. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Never better. And yourself?’
‘Shattered, you’re not overdoing it, are you?’
‘No, no. I’m taking it easy. Are you okay to talk?’
‘Aye, all quiet here,’ said Duncan. ‘Dougal and Westy are still downstairs, I think they’re throwing the book at Lea and it’s all thanks to you.’
‘Me?’
‘Aye, you’re the one who told me to look for that camera and it’s nothing but back to back photos of Nancy Wilson. It may not be enough to nail him just now, but we’ve time on our side if we need something else.’
‘That’s not down to me, laddie, you found the images on his computer; you should give yourself a pat on the back.’
‘I would if I could reach. So how are things your end? Did you speak with that Galbraith fella?’
‘I certainly did,’ said Munro, ‘and I need another favour.’
‘No bother.’
‘There’s no rush, in your own time.’
‘It probably will be.’
‘Mulqueen,’ said Munro. ‘I need to know if she still works for the council or if she’s moved on and if she has, then I need an address and anything else you can find.’
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