by Tana Collins
Fletcher put her head round his office door. ‘Welcome back.’
He beckoned her in.
‘How have things been here?’ he asked, once she was in front of him.
She had a cup of coffee in her hand. He could smell the coffee beans. She looked down at the cup.
‘Sorry, didn’t think. Should have got you one.’
He shook his hand. ‘It’s OK. I’ll get my own later.’ He had done nothing but drink coffee the last few days. ‘So, how have things been?’
She grinned. ‘We got by without you, if that’s what you mean, although–’ She suddenly looked serious.
‘Although what?’
Fletcher bit her lip. ‘Pip McGuire’s done a flit. Looks like she was in on it. I’m sorry we didn’t keep a close enough eye on her.’
Carruthers pursed his lips. He knew there’d been something that had disturbed him about Pip McGuire.
‘We’ve got people looking for her. I’m really sorry, Jim.’
It rankled that they had let McGuire – if that was her real name – slip through their fingers. He had a sudden longing for wild spaces and the mountains of Skye. He could take the annual leave that was owed him. Pack his tent, a good book, a bottle of Talisker and wild camp. He wondered how bad the midges were this summer. He also wondered if there was a start date for the new DCI.
‘It was a pretty big feat to rescue those poor girls. Thank God you got to them in time.’ Fletcher’s words broke into his thoughts and brought them back onto the case.
‘Yes, but will they ever be able to go back to a normal life after what they’ve been through?’ said Carruthers, trying hard to push all thoughts of his new DCI out of his mind. Time to think about her later.
Fletcher took a sip of her coffee. ‘Who knows? But if they have a loving family behind them they’ll have a better chance than some.’
Carruthers nodded.
‘Were they all Estonian?’
‘Mostly Estonian but of Russian descent.’
‘Who was the girl who ran out of the container?’ said Fletcher.
‘Apparently she was Lithuanian.’ That much he had found out. He thought of the Lithuanian girl and Hanna Mets, the two women they hadn’t been able to rescue.
There was a moment or two of silence.
‘What will happen to the girls trafficked to Scotland?’ asked Fletcher.
Carruthers thought of the baby-faced photo of one of the girls he’d seen. She’d only looked about fifteen. He knew he’d remember those empty eyes for a long time to come. He thought again of the girl who had jumped into the sea in Tallinn. The fact she risked death to get away from the Haravere gang only to end up drowning sickened him.
He looked at Fletcher. ‘Three of those girls were under sixteen,’ he said. ‘They’re covered by the Scottish Child Protection Services. Once they’ve been processed and their families located they’ll be returned to their home countries.’ Carruthers sighed. ‘Scotland’s prostitution problem is definitely getting worse and since most of those trafficked will be working behind closed doors we have no idea how many women are working against their will, despite the statistics we’re given.’
‘Being involved in this case makes me somehow feel personally affected,’ said Fletcher. ‘Bugger professionalism. At the end of the day we’re only human. Is there anything we can do to highlight these people’s plight?’
‘I’ve found out the NCA are launching a campaign to increase public awareness. The campaign is also going to encourage people to report suspicions. It’s sad to say but most members of the public will have come across a victim who has been exploited without even knowing it.’
‘I think a public campaign will be a really good idea,’ said Fletcher, sipping her coffee. ‘Can we do something locally? Is this something I can get involved in personally? I’d like to. We could put some information together to let the public know what to look out for. You know the sort of thing. When the rented flat at the end of the road is being visited by different men all through the day and night or when their neighbour’s nanny never seems to leave the house and is too scared to talk to them…’
Carruthers watched Fletcher’s face light up. ‘I think having a local campaign would be a really good idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a word with Bingham. See what we can do.’
‘So what’s the story with Barry Cuthbert and Aleks Voller?’ asked Fletcher.
‘Cuthbert had a nice little thing going with stolen art, as we know. Apparently he had kept in touch with his old prison mates. He was a member of an exclusive golf club that happened to bring him into contact with some wealthy art lovers. It was all too irresistible. Cuthbert obviously cultivated a whole network of thieves including those in Estonia.’
‘Aleks and Marek Voller,’ said Fletcher.
‘Yes, but Cuthbert got in over his head. Cuthbert may or may not have known that, apart from running high-class prostitutes, Voller also had a people-smuggling business. On a visit to Scotland to meet up with Cuthbert to talk about the art smuggling, Aleks Voller clearly saw a business opportunity for expanding his empire. Perhaps the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow was the reason. I assume Cuthbert was made an offer he couldn’t refuse.’
‘Or wouldn’t be allowed to refuse.’
‘That too,’ admitted Carruthers. ‘Of course, Aleks Voller had a paymaster back in Estonia. His brother. And then there were the links with the Russian Mafia. But both men, Voller and Cuthbert, were greedy. Thought they could do away with the third party and handle the stolen art themselves. More money in it for them, of course. But Aleks Voller made one huge mistake.’
‘Crossing the Mafia?’
Carruthers shook his head. ‘Crossing his brother. Marek was always the brains behind the operation. And of course when the police started to visit Cuthbert in hospital Aleks Voller must have panicked. Thought Cuthbert was starting to turn informant. That’s why he tried to kill him.’
‘So will we ever find out who killed Voller and the undercover Estonian cop?’
‘Hanna Mets? If she’d been one of the trafficked girls who’d managed to run away I would have said suicide was much more likely, but from what I found out about Hanna Mets I doubt she would have taken her own life. Most likely both Joe McGuigan and Hanna Mets were killed by Aleks Voller. I reckon her cover was blown as soon as the real Marika Paju got trafficked to Scotland. My theory is that Mets was taken up to the cliffs and pushed to her death. And whoever killed Voller is long gone. No doubt someone sent by his brother.’ There was a moment or two of silence.
‘I wonder why Hanna Mets took the name of a real person?’
‘That ended up being a big mistake. I guess at the point Hanna Mets took the name of Marika Paju, Marika was just another missing girl. Possibly a runaway. There was a suggestion she’d turned to prostitution but the Estonian police had no evidence she’d been trafficked by the Vollers, least of all to Scotland.’
‘I’m just grateful we can return Marika Paju to her parents,’ said Fletcher. ‘Hopefully with the right support and counselling she can recover from this awful ordeal. God, you should have seen the look of pure relief on their faces when they first realised the dead girl wasn’t their daughter. But then I spoke to them afterwards and they admitted that the not knowing was the worst part. Makes me realise how many other parents are out there worrying about their missing girls.’
Carruthers could see Fletcher was lost in thought. ‘Are you OK, Andie?’
‘Yes, but I’m just thinking how terrible the sex slave trade is. All those vulnerable people.’
‘We can’t save everyone.’
‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’ said Fletcher. ‘We never know what goes on behind closed doors.’
‘Police Scotland have succeeded in freeing numerous sex workers they believe to have been trafficked, but they have found it very difficult to convince the victims in such cases to make formal complaints.’
‘Well, it would help if these girls weren’t ma
de to feel as if they are criminals,’ said Fletcher. ‘They’re the victims.’
‘The law is changing, Andie, but attitudes are always slower to change, aren’t they?’
Fletcher turned to Carruthers. ‘What will happen to Barry Cuthbert?’
‘He’ll go to prison,’ said Carruthers. ‘We’ve got him with handling stolen artworks and with supplying forged passports.’ Cuthbert was still maintaining he was forced to keep the passports for Voller but whether that was true or not didn’t interest Carruthers. He was in it up to his neck and Carruthers had him by the short and curlies. He had no time for the Barry Cuthberts of this world. ‘He’s fully cooperating in the hope of a shorter sentence. Personally, I’d like to throw the book at him.’
‘What about Derek Sturrock? How much did he know?’
Carruthers thought about this. ‘I don’t think he had a hand in young McGuigan’s death.’ He remembered the man vomiting into the bushes. Nobody could have faked that. ‘But he definitely knew more than he was saying. I think he decided to turn a blind eye to a lot of Cuthbert’s activities. We’ve got enough to bring him in for questioning.’
‘Just out of interest, do we know what would have happened to the stolen artworks, had they been smuggled out the country?’
‘With the links the Haravere gang had to the Mafia, my guess is they would have gone into Russia. Perhaps into the hands of private collectors.’
‘Even though they couldn’t sell the paintings on?’
‘Sometimes owning a beautiful painting is enough, isn’t it?’ said Carruthers, thinking about the amount of wealth now in the hands of certain oligarchs in the former Soviet Union. Remembering what John Stevenson had said, he added, ‘Or perhaps they would be used as currency or collateral for those dealing in drugs and God knows what.’
‘Still we got some of them back though and helped crack a gang of sex slavers,’ said Fletcher. ‘I think that calls for a little celebration.’
‘How many more gangs are out there, though?’ said Carruthers.
‘Hey, what have you just said to me? You can’t take on the world. What are you doing after work tonight? Have you got plans? Fancy a quick drink, you know, to celebrate?’
What Carruthers really fancied was a long hot soak in the bath, a home-cooked meal and an early night but he didn’t say so. Instead he nodded and when he thought about being back in a Scottish pub, drinking a nip or three of his favourite single malt in good company, a slow smile spread across his face.
THE END
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Acknowledgments
As with any book a great many people helped make this publication possible.
Thank you to Gail Williams for the initial edit and manuscript critique. Thanks also to Clare Law at Bloodhound Books.
My thanks go to Piret Dahl in Tallinn for her close supervision of the story to make it as authentic as possible. And to Gunilla Rosengren for her stories of what it was like as a Finn to stay at the Hotel Viru in Tallinn in the 1980s.
A big thank you to first readers Sarah Torr, Alison Baillie, Ian Brown and Jackie McLean for their painstaking work in whipping the manuscript in to shape. It is much appreciated.
Thank you to Bloodhound Books for giving me a three book publishing deal, especially Betsy, Fred, Sarah, Sumaira and Alexina who are so supportive and helpful. And the rest of the pups in the kennels for their ongoing support.
All the bloggers, readers, writers and friends. I’ve had terrific support particularly from Jacky Collins, Kelly Lacey, Vic Watson, Louise Ross, Lynsey Adams, Amanda Gillies, Ian and Lynn Reid, Malcolm Fraser, Caroline Young, Kim Haworth, Ian Skewis, Louise Morrall, Jackie McLean, Allison Brady, Leigh Russell, Gill McLaren (who becomes a character in the book!) and Miranda Jacques-Turner. I’ve likely forgotten some folk. Apologies.
I would like to say a very personal thank you to my next door neighbours, Dougie and Margaret Hunter for their support and friendship over the last fifteen years. I don’t honestly know what we would do without Margaret to look after our cat, Smudge, when we are away and Dougie for all his DIY expertise! I also can’t forget Lynsey Duncanson and family across the road for stepping in to help with cat feeding duties when Margaret is away. Finally, thank you to Dougie’s brother George for his firefighting advice.
This is a work of fiction but some of the storyline is based loosely on certain real events. Those who know the East Neuk of Fife will recognise the fictional town of Castletown as being closely modelled on St Andrews. After much debate I decided to grow the town and change the name. With three books now behind me there is every possibility this might grow in to a long running series. Who knows? I’m not sure St Andrews would be able to cope with so many murders. Although this is a police procedural I hope I can be forgiven if I have stretched things a wee bit to suit the storyline. Any mistakes are my own.
Robbing The Dead
Inspector Jim Carruthers Book 1
Looking for your next unputdownable mystery? Then try this book by #1 best-selling author Tana Collins, a mystery full of stunning twists and turns.
In a small Scottish university town, what links a spate of horrible murders, a targeted bomb explosion and a lecturer’s disappearance? Is a terror group involved? If so, who is pulling the strings? And what does something that happened over forty years ago have to do with it?
Having recently returned to Castletown in the hope of winning back his estranged wife, DCI Jim Carruthers finds himself up to his eyes in the investigation.
Struggling with a very different personal problem, DS Andrea Fletcher assists Jim in the hunt for the murderous perpetrators. To prevent further violence they must find the answers quickly. But will Jim’s old adversary, terror expert McGhee, be a help or a hindrance?
Order Your Copy Here
This best-selling series is perfect for fans of authors like Helen Fields, Joy Ellis and Angela Marsons
Care To Die
Inspector Jim Carruthers Book 2
Looking for your next unputdownable mystery? Then try this book by #1 best-selling author Tana Collins, a mystery full of stunning twists and turns.
Struggling with his demotion back to DI and his concern for the grieving DS Andrea Fletcher, Jim Carruthers is thrown in at the deep end when the body of an old man is discovered stabbed to death in a nature reserve- a ball of cloth rammed into the back of the victim’s throat. The only suspect is a fifteen-year-old neighbour who is known to the police for antisocial behaviour. But the teenager has an alibi.
When a second elderly man is also found dead at the same locale, with the same MO, Carruthers starts to wonder if they have a serial killer on their hands.
On discovering that the first victim, Ruiridh Fraser, has an estranged son living in Iceland, Carruthers flies out to interview the man, now convinced that the reason behind Fraser’s death lies in his past.
But what does the disappearance of a twelve-year-old boy forty years before, the brutal murder of a former journalist and a bitter local dispute about a nature reserve, have to do with the investigation?
Can Carruthers and Fletcher solve the case while battling their own demons?
And are they hunting for one killer or more?
Order Your Copy Here
This best-selling series is perfect for fans of authors like Helen Fields, Joy Ellis and Angela Marsons
