Missing Believed Dead

by Chris Longmuir

  Suppressing the sinking feeling in his stomach, he helped his mother out of the car. Diane seemed more fragile than usual, her thoughts far away. He wanted to reach out to her, wrap her in his arms, but they were not a demonstrative family and the moment passed.

  By the time he fished his laptop bag out of the car she was already putting her key into the lock on the back door. He hurried over and followed her into the club and along the corridor to the cleaners’ cupboard where she would leave her coat and gather her equipment, ready to start work. But she still hadn’t spoken, and seemed to be in a world of her own.

  ‘I’ll wait for you after I’ve finished with Tony, and take you home.’ His words sounded loud in the empty corridor.

  Diane nodded.

  Ryan hesitated, reluctant to leave her, afraid she wouldn’t be there when he got back. Afraid she’d go off looking for Jade again. But Tony would be waiting for him, and Tony wasn’t a man you kept waiting, so he hurried along the corridor and through the door into the public area of the club.

  The foyer was deserted, although a buzzing sound came from behind one of the doors. As there was no sign of the doorman, he opened the door and looked in, but it was one of the other cleaners vacuuming a bar area.

  ‘I was looking for the doorman,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Mr Palmer.’

  She switched the machine off and tucked a lock of hair under the scarf she wore on her head. ‘You’re Diane’s boy. I’ve seen you here before.’

  Ryan nodded. He’d made a mistake following his mother in the back door instead of coming to the front entrance. Too late to rectify that now, though. ‘There’s usually someone here to meet me,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll find someone upstairs.’ She bent and switched on the machine. ‘I’ve got to get this finished and I’m all behind.’

  Ryan took his hand off the door and let it swing shut. The stairs were in front of him, a dark chasm leading upwards, to the lap dancing club, and Tony’s office, and Phil.

  * * * *

  May Fraser stared at the body with horrified fascination. She’d seen a dead dog before, but never a human body. He looked peaceful, lying with his arms crossed over his chest, but there was something funny about his eyes. It looked as if something was in them. She leaned over for a closer look.

  She flopped into the armchair. What sick bugger would want to shove beads in the dead sod’s eyes. OK, so he was a perv, she’d seen the way he watched the young girls on the estate, hanging round near the school gates when they were all going home. But that was no reason to mutilate his body. Kill the bugger, sure, but that should be enough.

  ‘What you done with my Megan then?’ She stared at the body on the floor.

  A flickering red light caught her eye. It was coming from the computer on the desk. Megan’s computer used to do that when she hadn’t been on it for a while, and she’d seen her daughter twiddle the mouse to wake it up.

  Curiosity got the better of her and she heaved herself out of the chair, stepped over the body, and moved the mouse. The monitor sprang into life and May watched fascinated while pictures of schoolgirls flashed over the screen in a relentless slideshow of photographs. Some were everyday photographs of girls, but others verged on the pornographic.

  ‘I knew you were a bloody perv.’ She poked the body with her foot. ‘You got photos of my Megan in there, do you?’ She sat down to watch.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been watching the slideshow before she saw Megan, but there she was, in the street, on the landing, coming out of school, down the shops. The bugger must have been stalking her.

  May stood up, maybe Megan was in the flat. She went from room to room, but Megan wasn’t there. That was when she decided she’d have to call the cops. But she’d need a phone to do that.

  She looked around, but couldn’t find a phone in the flat. If he had a mobile it would be in his pocket.

  The computer was still running the slideshow, although it wasn’t Megan now. The body lay at her feet and she stared at it, considering what to do.

  She knelt on the floor. The bugger was dead, he wouldn’t mind if she went through his pockets, but she’d have to touch him, and that gave her the willies.

  Steeling herself, she put her hand in one of his pockets, and then another one. The phone was in the third pocket she tried, along with a tenner. She extracted both, stuffed the tenner in her pocket – he wouldn’t need money where he was going – and phoned the police.

  After she switched the phone off she placed it into her pocket. It was a nice iPhone, and she’d never had one of those before, pity to waste it.

  The cops had said to leave the flat, but May Fraser settled down in the armchair and continued to watch the monitor, hoping to see Megan again.

  * * * *

  ‘There’s a Mrs Fraser on the line for you, Bill.’ Blair waved the phone receiver at him.

  Bill scowled. ‘Can’t you tell her we don’t have any fresh news about her daughter?’

  ‘No can do. Says she’s found a body, and you’re the one she wants to talk to.’

  Swearing under his breath he hurried over to take the phone from Blair. Damn, a body, probably Megan. That was all he needed. The DI would blame him for messing up the investigation and she’d never be off his back now.

  He lifted the receiver. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Fraser?’

  ‘You can get off your fat arse and come out here.’

  Bill held the phone away from his ear.

  ‘That bloody perv along the landing’s been topped, and I can see my Megan on his computer screen. What you going to do about it?’

  ‘What d’you mean, he’s been topped?’

  ‘Just what I said. He’s been bloody topped.’

  ‘You mean he’s dead?’

  ‘Isn’t that what I just said? He’s as dead as a bloody doornail, couldn’t be any deader. And he’s got queer green beads in his eyes. Weird, that’s what it is.’

  ‘Where are you, Mrs Fraser?’ Bill pulled a paper pad in front of him and got ready to scribble.

  ‘I’m in the bloody perv’s flat, that’s where I am.’

  ‘Where is this flat?’

  ‘Along the landing from me. I already told you.’

  Bill sighed. ‘Which end of the landing?’

  ‘You should bloody know, it’s the one I saw you going to yesterday.’

  Bill’s hand tightened on the pencil and the point snapped when it dug into the paper. ‘Paul Carnegie’s flat?’

  ‘Yeah, I think that’s his name.’

  ‘Are you in the flat now?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I told you, and my Megan’s on his computer screen.’

  ‘What you need to do, Mrs Fraser, is to leave the flat now. Don’t touch anything. Go and wait in your own flat until we arrive.’

  Bill scribbled the address onto a piece of paper before hurrying over to Blair’s desk. ‘We’ve got a body, get the police surgeon and the SOCOs there pronto. I’ll let the DI know, she’s going to want to check it out.’

  Bill grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and hurried over to where Kate and Sue were deep in discussion.

  ‘We’ve got a situation. Paul Carnegie’s body has just been found by Mrs Fraser. She says he’s been topped. It seems genuine because she also says he’s got green beads in his eyes.’

  Kate turned to face him. ‘Right, first thing we need to do is alert the scene of the crime officers, and the police surgeon, of course.’

  ‘It’s in hand, ma’am. Blair’s onto them now.’

  She nodded her approval. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? We’ll need to get out there.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kate was silent during the drive to the Greenfield estate. This was the biggest case of her career.

  It wasn’t her first murder case, but the others had been clearer cut. Domestic violence that had spun out of control, a Saturday night brawl with unintended trag
ic consequences, or a revenge killing. All of them relatively easy to solve. But this was something entirely different, and she felt out of her depth. However, it would be a mistake to allow the team to see this, when they were starting to gel.

  ‘We’re here, ma’am,’ Bill said, parking at the kerb in front of the stairs up to Paul Carnegie’s flat.

  ‘I thought the SOCOs would have arrived by now.’

  ‘They won’t be long. D’you want to wait for them?’

  Kate pushed the car door open. ‘No, we’ll go up and check out the scene.’

  She wasn’t sure whether that was the right thing to do, but she was anxious to get a handle on this murder before the scene of the crime officers came and restricted their access.

  Sensing Bill’s hesitation, she said, ‘Come on. What are you waiting for?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Kate led the way up the stairs, the sound of her feet clacking on the stone steps echoing back with an eeriness that made her shiver. On the upper flight she stepped round a patch of dried vomit and almost grabbed the hand rail, pulling her hand back at the last minute. No knowing what might be smeared on it. The top landing was bare but the door at the end hung open and she could hear the faint sound of music.

  Kate stood at the door for a moment questioning the wisdom of entering the flat before the SOCOs arrived, but her need to know overcame any doubts she might have. Sticking her hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything, she entered the flat.

  A light shone from the room directly ahead. The door hung ajar. She pushed it with her elbow, hearing Bill’s sharp intake of breath at the same time as she saw the woman sitting on the sofa.

  ‘Mrs Fraser, I told you to leave the flat.’ Bill’s voice was harsh.

  The woman didn’t move, her eyes remained fixed on the computer screen. ‘I saw my Megan on here. I was waiting to see her again.’

  Kate turned her attention to the flickering monitor, where image succeeded image in a never ending slide show of young girls.

  The body of Paul Carnegie lay on the floor between May Fraser and the computer desk.

  ‘I told you a perv had taken my Megan, but you didn’t believe me.’

  She rose from the sofa and glared at Bill, her hands clenched into fists. Her body gave the appearance of increasing in size as she tensed her muscles in a display of anger. The shuddering of her body, the quivering of her fists, and the sight of her dyed red hair waving madly about on top of her head, like the flames of some hellish fire, revealed the level of her distress. ‘If you’d looked harder you’d have found him before somebody topped him.’ She kicked the body.

  ‘Mrs Fraser, I must ask you to leave and wait in your own flat. We’ll come to speak to you shortly.’ Kate’s voice was calmer than she felt, but she didn’t want to arouse the woman into an even greater emotional outburst. After all, the woman’s daughter was still missing.

  The woman raised her foot to aim another kick, but Bill grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the body.

  ‘I’ll have you for assault.’ Her eyes were wild.

  ‘And I’ll arrest you for obstruction and contamination of a crime scene if you don’t leave now.’

  For a moment they both glared at each other, then her body seemed to deflate and she shrugged. ‘I need you to find my Megan.’

  Kate rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll find your Megan,’ she said. ‘We’ll take the computer in to examine. I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out from the information we obtain from it.’

  The woman shambled out of the door into the hallway. ‘You promise,’ she said, before leaving the flat.

  ‘I promise,’ Kate said, but May Fraser was gone.

  * * * *

  May Fraser stumbled along the landing. The wind whipped through her flimsy tee shirt, and the cold penetrated the fleece of her slippers, but her mind was far away, thinking of the images she’d seen on the perv’s computer screen.

  Bloody filth. If they’d done their job her Megan would be home by now. But it was always the same, just because she lived on the estate and survived on benefits, other folks thought she wasn’t worth anything. Thought she was scum. But May knew she wasn’t scum. OK, maybe she didn’t live like they did, maybe her house wasn’t as clean as it should be. But what incentive did she have to clean when she lived in a clapped out flat on a sink estate. If she had a nice house like they had, she’d clean it, well, maybe not every day, but she’d keep it nice.

  Her eyes filled with tears. OK, maybe she wasn’t as good as them with their fancy houses and fancy cars, but what right did they have to judge her and her family. What right did they have to make the assumption Megan had gone walkabout. May conveniently forgot Megan had done this in the past, so the assumption was a logical one to make.

  ‘Bloody filth,’ she muttered, opening the door to her flat.

  ‘Where you been?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’ May glared at her husband. What the heck had she ever seen in him. A scruffy wee nyaff with dirty grey hair straggling down his neck.

  ‘I was needing my bloody dinner, you lazy cow.’

  ‘Don’t you bloody lazy cow me.’ May put her hands on her hips and stared him out. ‘Get off your lazy arse and get it yourself.’

  ‘It’s a good belting you’re needing,’ Fred Fraser muttered.

  ‘Yeah! You and whose army?’ May stumped into the living room and threw herself into an armchair to wait for the police to arrive.

  * * * *

  Diane stood in the cleaners’ room and listened to Ryan’s footsteps echoing up the corridor. The door into the main part of the club clicked shut behind him, but still she stood there. Ryan was a good son. He worried about her, but he didn’t understand her. Nor could he understand how her thoughts about Jade were tearing her apart.

  She slumped onto a chair and bent down to change her shoes for the old pair she kept here for working in, but her hand hesitated. How could she concentrate on work when Jade was out there? She’d promised Jade she wouldn’t look for her, promised to wait until Jade was ready to come home. But deep within she knew Jade was in trouble and needed her help. She had to go and look for her, find her and help her. There was no other way.

  Work forgotten, Diane stood, buttoned her coat and headed for the back door. Outside, she turned her back on the car and hurried to the street. She would leave the car for Ryan and get a bus.

  A spattering of hail stung Diane’s cheeks as she stood at the bus stop, but she was beyond feeling anything physical. She boarded the first bus that stopped and huddled in a back seat. She didn’t know where it was heading, nor did she care. When she got off she started to walk, following a noisy group of teenagers, stopping when they stopped and walking when they did.

  At last one of the youths turned and glared at her. ‘You want something, missus?’

  Diane stopped. She couldn’t think straight, her mind was a jumble of questions about Jade. She wasn’t even sure why she had been following them. But they might know Jade.

  ‘Oh,’ she spluttered, ‘I thought you might know where Jade was. Do you?’

  Several kids in the group sniggered and one of them made a circular motion with his finger to his forehead.

  The youth shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t know no Jade, Missus.’ He followed the others who were already walking away.

  Diane stood and watched them go, aware she’d made a fool of herself. What on earth was she doing here? She didn’t even know where here was. But her mind was fogged and she couldn’t think of any answers to the questions buzzing round her brain, nor could she marshal her thoughts sufficiently to find out where she was.

  The street was quiet now the teenagers were gone, but Diane continued to walk until she emerged at the river front. To her left she could see a castle-like building jutting out into the water. She walked towards it, passing rows of houses on her left while the river flowed on her right.

  She passed an old-fashion
ed red telephone box and a pole with a lifebelt attached. Rows of cars were parked angle on, facing the river; and in the distance, at the other side of the water, a small town. Tayport or Newport, she wasn’t sure which. Beyond the cars was a bench facing the river. She sat for a while looking out at the turbulent waves, before she rose and walked to the building that looked like a castle.

  When she got to the castle she walked onto the pier beside it, and stared into the river. It seemed to beckon and she wondered how it would feel to submerge herself in it. Would it be pleasant or painful? Would she see her life passing before her eyes? Was her family right when they said Jade was dead, and was this the only way she would ever be able to join her?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Bill hunkered down to get a better look at the body. He hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling Paul Carnegie’s death was related to the murder of the John Doe in the Overgate car park, and he wanted to check something out. Now, looking at the green jade beads pressed into Paul’s eye sockets, he was sure.

  ‘Same signature.’ He stood up and looked over to Kate. ‘He’s got green beads stuck in his eyes.’

  ‘You didn’t touch anything, I hope.’

  ‘No, ma’am. I just looked.’ Bill suppressed his irritation. What the heck did she think he was? An amateur?

  ‘What about this computer? Mrs Fraser seemed to think she saw images of her daughter on the monitor.’ Kate frowned. ‘We’ll need to take it in for a better look.’

  Bill took a paper handkerchief out of his pocket and nudged the mouse. Immediately the slide show started.

  ‘You contaminating my crime scene?’

  Bill looked up. Colin, one of the SOCOs was standing in the doorway.

  ‘Damn, you might whistle when you come in. Those blasted bootees you wear don’t give any warning.’

  ‘Speaking of bootees, you should be wearing them as well. I hate to think how much contamination you’ve introduced to the scene, and I bet that mouse has your fingerprints all over it.’