by Clare Revell
She didn’t drop her gaze. “Let me guess. In an abandoned car in a multistory car park by a canal.”
“Aye. She’d been stabbed…”
“And her throat cut left to right.”
“That will be for the coroner tae decide, but we need tae be there.”
****
Milly felt sick as she stood with Craig, watching as the SOCO team removed the body from the car. She couldn’t believe how quickly things changed. One minute she was sitting on a misty bench with Craig, his hands on her arms, his lips almost on hers, and the next jarred back to reality by the ringing of his phone and the call back to work.
This was identical to the recovery of Mary Ann’s body, right down to the way her belongings had been laid out.
A large black car pulled up and a uniformed officer got out. His face was grey and drawn as he tugged on the peaked uniform cap.
Milly nudged Craig. “Who’s that?”
“Trouble,” he replied. “That’s her father. Chief Constable Doone.”
“Let me through,” Chief Constable Doone demanded.
Craig blocked him. “Sir, you shouldnae be here.”
“Let me see her, Fraser.”
“No, sir.” It was all Craig could do to prevent the burly man from pushing him aside. “Let us do our jobs—”
“If you’d done your job, she’d no be dead.”
“Yeah, she would,” Milly muttered under her breath.
Doone spun around and advanced on her. “And you are?”
Milly held her ground. “DI Jenson, on temporary secondment from Thames Valley Police.”
“The Sassenach,” he muttered, distain in his voice.
“There isn’t much I can do about being English, sir. But I’m sorry for your loss.”
“So am I, sir,” Craig said. “But you still shouldn’t be here. Let us tak care o’her, then you can see her in the chapel of rest.”
Doone swallowed hard. “What can you tell me?”
“I’ll tell you this much, Chief Constable,” Milly added. “This nutter is working to an exact time table.”
“It’s a copycat,” Doone insisted. He turned back to Craig. “Find him. I want whoever did this…” He shook his head and went over to the body bag.
Milly shoved her hands into her pockets, her breath hanging on the air. “Now what?”
“Now we go watch a post mortem. They willnae hang around with this one.”
The coroner came over. “She’s been dead around ten hours, but the car has been here less than two.”
“How…”
She cut him off. “Parking ticket on the windscreen.”
“Then he’ll have taken the next one,” Milly said. “She’s been dead too long.”
Craig’s phone rang. “Hold that thought.” He pulled the handset out. “Fraser.” He listened. “On my way.” He looked at the coroner. “Got tae run. Ring me with the results as soon as you have them. Jenson, with me, double time.” He sprinted to the car.
“Where are we going?”
He unlocked the car and held the door open for her. “Get in.” He ran around the other side and looked at her. “How did you ken?”
Confusion clouded her gaze. “Know what?”
“That he’d tak’ her from the harbor?”
“Because he’s the same bloke…Did I miss something?”
“Heather Williams didnae get home from work after a night shift at the harbor.”
8
The next few days were frenetic. Buried in paperwork and trying to connect the dots, Milly didn’t know what was more frustrating. The way Vickery constantly needled her and blatantly overrode and ignored her every order, or the way Craig kept her in the office rather than out on the streets.
Thursday arrived, and she left the station at twelve, intending to go for lunch somewhere she wasn’t going to be glared at or potentially poisoned. Time was running out for the fifth girl, and no one would listen to anything Milly had to say on the subject.
Finding a Christian run café in the center of Perth, Milly ordered a cheese and tomato panini and a large pot of tea. She took her number once she’d paid, and headed over to an empty table by the window. She pulled out her phone, making use of the free Wi-Fi to check her email. Since her office was no longer secure, she kept everything of importance on her phone and backed up to the cloud. She’d found more and more files were being deleted each night, despite locking the office and changing her password.
Someone with a key was accessing her office after she went home each night. For a moment she debated setting up a CCTV camera in there, but decided that was probably overkill. Instead, she’d leave a trap for whoever it was. Something he’d want, something that looked related to the case, but actually was as useful as a chocolate teapot. She’d write up her recurring nightmare as a witness statement and put an anagram of her own name on it as soon as she got back to work. That would put the wind up him.
Her food arrived and she unfolded the serviette. She started eating while going over the idea in her mind, trying to formulate the way to write it out properly.
“Is this seat taken?” A man in a plastic face mask stood there, cup clutched in scarred and twisted hands. His smile was lopsided due to the heavy scarring on his face. “Only there’s nowhere else to sit.”
“Sure, you can sit there.” She noticed even though his voice was husky, he wasn’t Scottish.
He sat down. “Thanks.”
She nodded, taking in the way the mask clung to his face. A small gap around his mouth meant he could eat unimpeded. Whatever accident he’d been in must have been severe to leave him with such extensive burns. His injuries were not inconsistent with what the perp from home would have had, if he’d survived.
“I’ve seen you around the lodges,” he said, seemingly intent on making conversation. He held out a hand. “Ken Platt, from number four.”
She shook his hand. “Milly Jenson, number eleven.” His skin felt strange against hers and she tried not to be relieved when he let go. She prayed for forgiveness for her reaction and hoped he hadn’t picked up on it.
Ken slid a straw into the cup to drink his coffee.
She smiled. “I can’t drink hot stuff like that.”
“It’s a case of having to. The mask has to stay on so many hours a day to flatten the scars.”
Her curiosity got the better of her. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” She paused. “Although I’m sure you get asked that an awful lot.”
He nodded. “But I’d rather people ask than just stare, shudder, and turn away. Underneath all this scar tissue I’m a normal bloke with feelings just like everyone else. So I appreciate your candidness in asking. I was caught in a car fire almost a year ago. It took my face, finger tips, toes, and girlfriend. Everything I had, gone in an instant. Second and third degree burns over eighty percent of my body. They didn’t think I’d survive.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “So I wear pressure suits over my body and Perspex on my face. But I’m alive and that’s what matters. Every day is a gift.”
“Excuse me.” A familiar looking, blond young man stood by their table. He couldn’t be more than early twenties. “Didnae I see you in church on Sunday?”
Milly nodded, working out where she’d seen him. “You led the worship team.” She smiled as she shook his hand. “I never forget a face, even if it does take me a minute to place them. Milly.”
“I’m Jock. How’s the holiday going?”
“No holiday, unfortunately. I’m working.”
“What do you do?”
“Police officer, I’m on secondment up here for a few weeks.”
Interest flooded the kid’s face. “Are you working the murders?”
She smiled. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Och, that’s got tae be more interesting than being stuck in an office all day. I’m guessing you know Craig? He’s a police officer, too. You sat with him Sunday.
“Well, enjoy your time here. Will we see you again on Sunday?”
Milly nodded. “Most likely.” She picked up her cup as the kid headed off.
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” Ken asked.
Milly raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?” she asked, not that it had anything to do with him.
“I’ve seen him at your lodge several times, and I know you’re working the murders. Why else would you be here?”
Milly’s phone beeped. Grateful for the distraction she pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “I have to go. Work.” She tapped a quick reply to Craig’s text, and stood. She picked up her cup. “Probably see you around.”
“Count on it.”
Milly walked to the counter and asked for the coffee to be put in a to-go cup. As she waited, she could feel Ken watching her with his almost lidless eyes. Every copper’s sense she possessed went on full alert.
Craig came in and stood next to her in the queue. His reassuring presence and smile were a welcome relief. “Milly, I wondered where you’d gone.”
“I had to get out for a few.”
“I ken how that is. A flat white tae go, please.” He leaned against the counter, pulling out his wallet.
“Are you going back to work?” she asked.
“Aye. Walk with me?”
She nodded, still trying to shake the skin crawling feeling.
He looked intently at her. “Are you all right? Your text sounded a little off.”
“Not really,” she said quietly. She picked up her new cup. “Thank you.”
Craig took his coffee. “Thanks. Let’s go.” He opened the door for her, and waited until they were in the busy street before his free hand strayed to hers for a quick reassuring squeeze. “What’s up?”
“Just met this bloke, actually he came and sat on my table as it was the only free space. Turns out he’s staying at the lodges, in lodge four. There’s something off there and I—”
Craig frowned. “The bloke who’s been staring at you since you moved in? Do you want me tae have a word?”
“You noticed it too? On one hand he’s got enough problems. He claims he lost his face, fingertips and so on in a fire last year. He has to wear this mask and pressure suit to flatten the scars. He lost his girlfriend, too. ”
Craig’s frown deepened.
“But…he knew stuff about me and…”
“Like what?”
“Like you and I seeing each other outside of work. Like the fact I’m working on the murders.”
“How?” Craig looked concerned over the top of his cup.
She shrugged. “He watches me often enough.” She sighed. “Oh, by the way, I need to give you another email address for me. I’m not using the work one anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Stuff was deleted off the server again and the computer’s been accessed, files deleted, and so on. I’m planning on leaving a trail of breadcrumbs—to see who comes calling. Even toying with CCTV cameras behind that awful painting on the wall.”
“Do it. Or I can simply change the lock on the door.”
“And have whoever is it know that we’re onto them? No, not yet.”
They arrived back at the nick. Milly held her pass up to the scanner as Craig’s phone beeped.
“Fraser…we’ll be right there.” He looked at her, the professional mask dropping into place. “Jenson, with me.”
Her stomach plummeted, knowing what had happened. “They found her?”
“Aye, and you’ll never guess where.”
****
Craig parked behind the marked cars on the bridge over the River Earn and led Milly down the steps on the left hand side.
“Where’s the water gone?” she asked as they reached the hive of activity.
“The Earn is tidal. This time o’ day there are never many people aboot, or water, come tae that.”
The coroner came over. “Heather Williams, eighteen, shot twice. From the condition of the body I’d say she was dumped last night, probably after high tide and weighted down. The time of death will tak’ a while.”
“Who found her?”
“Dog walker. He’s over there.”
Craig glanced over. “Jenson, you talk to him. I’m going tae pop up tae the office—see if Mary saw anything.”
She nodded. “OK.”
He made his way along the river path behind the lodges and around. The office was closed, so he went to the huge house next door and knocked.
Mary opened the door, her hair swept back and a floury apron tied over jeans and sweater. “Hi, Craig. Are you here to extend the lease on the lodge?”
He held up his ID, making it obvious he was working. “Nae, I need tae ask you some questions.”
“Come on in, I’m in the middle of making fig and onion caramelized tarts. I can’t leave them for long.”
Craig followed her into the kitchen and watched as Mary stirred the delicious smelling pan on the stove. To one side lay a patty pan with neatly lined pastry circles.
“There’s been a murder. The body was found doon by the bridge just beyond the lodges.”
Mary covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no.”
“So, I need to ken if you saw anything oot o’ the ordinary today or last night. Cars that shouldnae be here, for example.”
She thought for a moment. “No, except yours.”
He grinned, despite the gravity of the situation. “I dinnae mean that.”
“You were always easy to wind up. You haven’t changed.” She drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t seen anything. We weren’t out last night, as it was raining. I’ll ask John when he gets in if he saw anything this morning.”
“Thank you.” He handed over one of his cards. He debated asking for a list of tenants, but instead opted to get Vickery to do a lodge to lodge later that evening. “Do you have any first time tenants?”
“Aside from Milly and a family with two babies in three, they’re all long term or returners.”
“OK. We’ll need to speak to everyone, especially the people in thirteen, fourteen and fifteen.”
“We don’t have a thirteen. You don’t think it was someone from here?”
“At this point I dinnae ken what tae think. I’ll be in touch.” He headed out and went back down to the bridge.
Milly was putting her notebook away and came across as he beckoned to her. “Well?” he asked.
“The dog walker, Malcolm Murdoch, didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Nothing useful, anyway. He does this walk two or three times a day at different times.”
“What do you make of all this?”
“It feels like he’s taunting us…me.”
“You seriously think the perp kens your here and is doing all this for your benefit?” He shook his head. “That’s a wee bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“It’s my computer and emails, no one else’s. Of all the bridges in Perth to dump a body in, he picks the one where I’m living. And besides, according to the dog walker it’s in all the local papers. London cop helps Perth police solve local murders or some such thing.”
Craig scowled and folded his arms, leaning against the fence. “Great.”
“And it doesn’t help that “your team” still won’t take orders from me.”
“We’re no all in cahoots against you, y’ken.”
She shook her head. “That’s either a Scottish village or a very, very bad pun.”
He frowned then the penny dropped. “Very clever.” He glanced at his watch. “OK, time for you tae go home. You may as well just stay put, and I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
****
What little sleep Milly got had been populated with vivid dreams of an overgrown cottage, a light and a rink.
“Are you
all right, lassie? You’re awful quiet this morning.” Craig asked when he picked her up.
Reluctantly, Milly explained her dreams and the significance she was afraid they contained. She could tell by the look on his face he didn’t believe her, but that was fine. She didn’t put much faith in dreams either. Or she hadn’t. But now? She let herself into her office, which was again unlocked, and shut the door.
She sighed as she realized once again her computer had been accessed. Beyond the glass panel, she could hear Craig ranting at the team, about their dress code, or lack thereof, and their attitude towards her. But at least it was Friday and she only had to put up with it a few more hours. She distracted herself by writing her dream on a witness statement. She then typed it up and left the file on the desktop, marking it to be cc’d to DCI Fraser.
Craig tapped on the glass and leaned around the door. “Jenson, brief the team for me.”
She got up and nodded, noticing him lean against the door frame, one hand in his trouser pocket. She took a deep breath, feeling as if every word she spoke would be scrutinized and examined. Then she launched into the briefing, bringing the team up to date with the last evening’s events and giving them tasks for today. “Don’t forget the next victim will most likely be taken today and if it follows the same pattern, which it will, she’ll be taken from the sports center.”
The team grabbed jackets and notebooks, and left with nods and a murmured ‘yes guv.’
Milly looked at Craig and scowled at the satisfied smirk creasing his face. “Only because you were here.”
“Mibbe. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing, why?”
“Would you like dinner? You and me, somewhere nice, no mention of work...”
Her heart leapt. “Aye. I’d love dinner.”
He grinned. “Are you talking Scottish now?”
She shrugged. “Mibbe Ah'm more than just a Sassenach fae sooth who kens nothing aboot proper police work and isny tae be trusted with so much as a locker key. Right. I’m off to get those files from the procurator fiscal and to chase up the coroner’s reports.”
“Cheeky beggar, ain’t ya,” he chuckled, attempting an east end accent. “Then I’ll see you later.”
Millie nodded and headed out. She went first to the coroner and picked up the autopsy reports, then headed to the procurator fiscal. She signed for and picked up the files and left the building.
