Stranglehold

by Rena George

  The barmaid had caught Rougvie's eye as she leaned in to speak quietly to Drummond. He waved her away. But the woman still looked concerned as he took his glass and weaved his way back to the table before announcing he was going for a slash.

  Rougvie waited until he had disappeared into the gents before making his way to the bar. 'I couldn't help noticing you seem to know my friend.' He gave the barmaid a smile.

  She sighed. 'Jack Drummond? Yeah, I know him. Why is he getting so smashed? I couldn't get a thing out of him.'

  'Probably better not to even try,' Rougvie said, wondering if Drummond and the barmaid had been an item. 'I don't suppose you know any of Jack's mates?'

  She gave him a suspicious look. 'Why?'

  'The thing is,' Rougvie started. 'I have to get off soon and I don't like leaving him like this.'

  The barmaid wrinkled her nose. 'I might do.'

  'Could you give them a ring?'

  She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes on the door of the gents as Drummond re-appeared.

  'I wouldn't let him have any more booze,' Rougvie said. 'Strong coffee might be an idea.'

  His mobile pinged a text coming in. It was Colin Faraday telling him he'd found a B&B up near the university. He passed on the address saying he would go straight there and see him in the morning.

  The barmaid arrived at their table with two mugs of coffee, which Drummond immediately pushed away. She gave Rougvie a nod, which he took to mean she had contacted somebody to fetch Drummond home. He mouthed a 'thank you', pushing the coffee back in Drummond's direction. He shoved it away again, but Rougvie persisted and eventually Drummond began to sip at it.

  The pub was busy but Rougvie's eyes kept flicking to the door, watching for any sign of this friend. And then the big man walked in and he saw the barmaid catch his eye and nod to their table. Rougvie got to his feet as the man approached.

  Drummond's head came up. 'Pete! Come away in. What are you having?' He started to get unsteadily to his feet, but Pete put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. He gave Rougvie a wry smile. 'Pete Mullen,' he said. 'This young reprobate and I go way back.'

  'Nick Rougvie,' he said, extending his hand. 'I'm a newer mate. Can I get you a drink?'

  'Coffee would be great,' Pete said.

  Rougvie went to fetch it. He had to wait while the barmaid served other customers, but she was smiling as the coffee machine hissed away behind her. 'Pete will sort him out. He's the only one Jack will listen to when he's in this frame of mind.'

  'Who exactly is Pete?' Rougvie asked, glancing back to the table. He could see the two men had their heads together, deep in conversation.

  'One of the good blokes. He's the community copper around here. Everybody knows him.'

  Rougvie's eyebrow arched. 'He's a copper?'

  'He's Jack's mentor.' She nodded, watching them. 'Jack will be fine now.'

  'What's your name?' Rougvie asked, as the barmaid turned to leave.

  'Just call me Lucy.'

  'Thanks, Lucy,' he winked. 'I can see Jack has more than one good friend around here.'

  She blushed and he saw how pretty she was. 'It's no more than Jack would have done for me.'

  Drummond didn't look quite so drunk when Rougvie returned with Pete's coffee. The man looked up and smiled. 'Jack tells me you're down from Inverness.'

  'That's right. I'm a DS up there.'

  'So, I've been hearing.'

  'Nick and I have been working together on the strangler case,' Drummond interrupted, making an effort not to slur his words.

  Pete nodded. 'Do you have a car, Nick?'

  'Well, yes.'

  'Could you give us a lift to Jack's place?'

  'Of course.' Rougvie got to his feet. 'I'm parked just outside.'

  Pete attempted to take Drummond's arm to support him out of the pub, but he shook him off, holding his head high and giving Lucy a backward wave as they left.

  Rougvie wasn't sure what he'd expected as he and Pete followed Drummond into his flat, but it wasn't the pleasant, orderly place he'd stepped into. He wouldn't have described it as cosy though, not the way his and Elaine's house in Inverness was cosy, but then he doubted if Drummond actually spent much time here.

  'I don't suppose either of you have eaten much today,' Pete said, heading for the kitchen. He clearly knew his way around the flat.

  'What have I told you about keeping your fridge stocked, Jack?' he shouted through.

  Drummond shook his head. 'He's such a bully.'

  'I might just manage a couple of bacon rolls,' Pete called again after inspecting the contents of the fridge. 'Will that do?'

  'Sounds great,' Rougvie called back, grabbing the whisky bottle before Drummond got his hands on it.

  It wasn't until the smell of grilled bacon permeated the flat and Pete arrived with the bacon rolls that Rougvie realized how hungry he was. Even Drummond devoured the food with apparent relish.

  'Now then,' Pete said. 'Is somebody going to tell me what this is all about?'

  'I think I've lost my job,' Drummond said.

  Pete threw Rougvie a questioning glance. 'Is that right?'

  'You tell him, Nick. I don't think I can trust myself. I might have killed the bugger myself if he hadn't got to it first.'

  Pete raised an eyebrow.

  'Don't listen to him,' Rougvie said. 'He's his own worst enemy, but then I'm sure you already know that.'

  Pete waited.

  'A man called Angus McLeod topped himself in one of the cells today, a man Jack had been interviewing. He cut his wrists with a broken plastic pen.' He put up a hand. 'And before you ask, the answer's no. We don't know how he got hold of a pen in the cells.'

  'I was going to ask what this has to do with Inverness?'

  'The man who died was from Inverness. He hightailed it down here after beating the daylights out of his wife. Jack was up in the Highlands at the time investigating this man's activities. He was there when the poor woman was found. She almost died.' He blew out his cheeks. 'A colleague and I got here this afternoon to take the man back to Inverness to face a charge of attempted murder.'

  'The guy was a monster, Pete,' Drummond chipped in. 'I had him in the frame for the strangler until the last victim identified Dalrymple.'

  'So, what are you saying, Jack – that you had it in for this character?' Pete frowned.

  Drummond shrugged. 'OK so he wasn't the strangler, but he murdered his stepdaughter, Emily. I know he did, and he knew that I knew. He was on the point of confessing when I left him to mull over his options.'

  Pete leaned forward. 'Did you browbeat him, Jack?'

  'I did what I had to. You didn't see what he did to his wife. He was a total maniac. I wasn't going to treat him with kid gloves. He killed Evie. I needed him to admit it.'

  'Evie?' Pete was staring at him. 'Is that what this is all about? You've been beating yourself up because you couldn't save Evie?' Pete threw up his arms in frustration. 'This girl was never your responsibility, Jack. You have to let it go.'

  Rougvie put out a hand. 'Wait a minute. Am I missing something? Who's Evie?'

  Drummond hung his head.

  'Tell him, Jack. If you trust him, tell him.'

  'Tell me what?' Rougvie wasn't sure he wanted to hear what was coming.

  Drummond stared across the room. He was imagining Evie curled up on his sofa like a vulnerable kitten. 'Evie was what she called herself when she was here. You know her as Emily Ross.'

  Rougvie screwed up his eyes, not sure what he was hearing. 'Emily Ross was here? D'you mean here in your flat?'

  Drummond gave a slow nod. 'We were in the throes of the hunt for the strangler and I'd taken to going out at night warning the street girls to be on their guard, not that they paid any attention.' He swallowed. 'I found Evie soliciting with the others on a street corner. She looked about twelve. At least the older hookers were a bit savvy, but this girl, despite the front she put up, didn't look like she would have had a clue how to protect
herself if a punter turned nasty.

  'I took her aside, told her to go home. She refused of course. I said I would arrest her if she didn't get off the streets. She wasn't happy. I insisted. She said she had family in Edinburgh so I gave her a few quid and bundled her on a train.

  'It felt good seeing that train pull out of the station. It was like I'd saved the girl from a life of misery.'

  He sighed. 'I didn't think I would see Evie again, but I was wrong. It was weeks later she came to see me at the station. Her clothes were filthy, and she had a black eye. She was trembling, pleading with me. She had nobody else to turn to, she said. She begged me to put her up for a few nights until she got herself straightened out.'

  Rougvie threw up his hands. 'Don't tell me. You let her stay here in your flat.'

  'What else could I do? She was hardly more than a kid and she was in a terrible state. It was no skin off my back if she stayed here for a couple of nights.'

  'But you must have known she was trouble,' Rougvie persisted.

  Drummond sighed. 'It's easy to see sense after the event but at the time I really felt I could help her.'

  'And did you?' It was the first time Pete had commented since Drummond started talking.

  'No, it got worse. I knew Evie was taking drugs, but she seemed to be doing her best to kick her habit. At least that's what I thought. I wanted to help her.' He heaved another sigh. 'The last time I saw her she was curled up here on this sofa. When I got back from the station late one night the flat looked like it had been turned over. Drawers had been emptied, cupboards ransacked…and Evie had gone! It was later that I discovered she'd taken the emergency £500 I kept hidden in my wardrobe.'

  'Oh, Jack.' Rougvie sighed.

  Pete shook his head.

  'That was the night Evie's body was found in that filthy alley,' Drummond said flatly. 'It was assumed she was another victim of the strangler, but it didn't look right.'

  'Tell Nick about the phone,' Pete said quietly.

  Drummond raised his head, swallowing. 'I found Evie's phone down the side of the sofa, the phone she used to contact her mother.

  'Reading those messages between her and Rachel was heartbreaking. This was the real Evie, or Emily as you later told me she was. It was easy to learn from the text messages that she had lived in Inverness. I needed to know more about her.'

  'And that's where I came in,' Rougvie said.

  Drummond nodded. 'Pretty much.' He spread his fingers and stared at his hands. 'When I became suspicious of McLeod, I couldn't let it go. If he had been involved in his stepdaughter's death I had to know.'

  'And now he's dead,' Rougvie said.

  'I think it's more serious than that,' Pete commented. 'McLeod has taken his own life in a police cell and the PIRC will be wanting answers.'

  Drummond looked up, his eyes going from one to the other. 'Oh great. An enquiry by the Police Investigation and Review Commissioner is all I need. I don't imagine whoever investigates this will trouble to look very far for a fall guy. I made no secret of how convinced I was that McLeod had killed Emily Ross.'

  'But it wasn't your fault the man did what he did,' Rougvie said. 'Whoever gave him that pen is the one who needs to be worried. Anyway, surely if there had been any worries about his mental state, he should have been put on suicide watch.'

  Drummond pulled a face. 'I did get a bit heavy with him during that last interview. It will all be on the tape, but I did tell the custody sergeant to keep an eye on him.'

  'Will he back you up on that?' Pete asked.

  'It was Ronnie Ryan. What do you think? He's not going to put himself in the firing line for me.'

  'You think he'll lie?' Rougvie said.

  'Of course, he will. If he'd kept an eye on McLeod as I asked him to then the man might still be alive.' He bit his lip. 'And he'd have to face up to what he did. That's what I can't forgive. Angus McLeod took the easy way out – and we let him!'

  Thirty-Seven

  'Am I confined to barracks?' Drummond asked next morning, poking his head around DCI Buchan's door.

  'Come in, Jack.' She looked up from the computer screen. Her expression was not amused. She indicated he should sit. He wasn't in a mood for arguing.

  She sat back, watching him. 'You need to talk to me. What the hell happened here last night?'

  'A worthless piece of trash topped himself in one of our cells. I thought you knew.'

  'Cut the comedy. You're in no position to joke about this.'

  'Joke?' Drummond felt his blood rising. 'You think I would joke about this? Angus McLeod killed his stepdaughter. I know he did. He beat his wife so viciously that she's still in intensive care in Raigmore Hospital.' He got up and began pacing the small room. 'He was supposed to be this respected banker, this holier than thou elder in the Wee Free Church in Inverness.' He wheeled round and glared at Joey. 'Was he repentant for what he'd done? Was he hell! He took the coward's way out and gouged out his veins. It was all about him again.'

  'Sit down, Jack! Getting steamed up like this helps nobody, least of all you.'

  Drummond ignored her.

  'Did you hear me?' She said, her voice rising. 'Sit down!'

  He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh before pulling out a chair and trying not to throw himself into it.

  'Now listen here, you.' Joey tapped her desk. 'You could have been suspended…you would have been if I hadn't persuaded the top brass upstairs to let you go on working.'

  Drummond was tempted to leap in again with what he thought about the top brass, but his good sense told him to hold his tongue. Making an enemy of Joey Buchan would help neither of them.

  'You have to control that anger, Jack.' She fixed him with an earnest stare. 'It won't look good if you kick off like that when they interview you. Just think about it. A man is dead and apart from his solicitor you were the last one to speak to him. I believe you when you say it wasn't you who gave him the pen, but that doesn't let you off the hook.' She was studying his face for any sign that he was taking her seriously. 'I've watched the playback of that interview, Jack, and you didn't exactly go easy on McLeod.'

  'I was doing my job,' Drummond muttered.

  'Some might think you were overdoing it. Did it not cross your mind that he might do something like this?'

  Drummond shook his head. 'I know he was rattled. I saw that as progress. But I did tell the custody sergeant to keep an eye on him.'

  The DCI blinked, frowning. 'Sergeant Ryan didn't mention that.'

  'Well he wouldn't, would he? The lovely Ronnie will be more than happy to drop me in it.'

  'We'll see about that. I'll make sure the investigators know about this.' She got to her feet. 'In the meantime, I'm trusting you to keep your head down. No more angry outbursts. The man's dead now and we can't bring him back.'

  Drummond gave a resigned nod.

  'You'll find a stack of paperwork on your desk, DI Drummond. I suggest you concentrate on that.'

  The incident room had officially been stood down now that James Dalrymple had admitted the murders, so the frantic activity he'd got used to surrounding him during the strangler investigation had been replaced by the occasional tap of a keyboard and a ringing phone. The stack of papers Joey had mentioned was bigger than he'd hoped. He pulled a face as he sat down and reached for the top of the pile.

  'What will happen to DI Drummond now?' Colin Faraday asked Rougvie as they crept past the eternal roadworks on the A9 on their way back to Inverness. Once the work to extend the dual carriageway was completed, driving north from Glasgow and Edinburgh would be a treat. But for now, it was a matter of road users gritting their teeth and exercising patience.

  'I don't know, Colin. A suicide in the cells is a serious business. There will be an investigation and DI Drummond will get interviewed.' He stared at the queuing traffic ahead. Faraday's question had been foremost on his mind too since he'd left Drummond's flat the previous night. If what he'd learned about his friend's relationship w
ith the murdered girl, Emily Ross, got to the ears of certain others, the man's career in Police Scotland would be finished. Then there was the issue of Drummond finding the girl's mobile phone. Rougvie knew only too well why handing it over to the authorities could never have been an option, but that was nothing to the trouble he'd be in if it was discovered that he'd 'planted' it at the scene for another colleague to find. God it was a mess. No wonder Drummond had been in a bad way the previous night. At least he had the support of Pete Mullen behind him now. He was in good hands. Rougvie had got the impression that if anybody could help him it would be this man. A highly respected officer like Mullen would have serious standing in and out of the Force. He would also understand the internal working of police investigations such as the one Drummond now found himself in the middle of.

  'Do you think he'll get a fair hearing?' Faraday's question interrupted his thoughts.

  'Let's hope so,' Rougvie muttered.

  The traffic hold-ups were behind them now. Inverness was only an hour away and despite what DCI Fraser was expecting, Rougvie had decided he was calling in at home before setting foot in the nick. He needed the comfort of Elaine's arms around him and that injection of normality back in his life.

  DC Gail Swann had been assigned to organizing the paperwork and preparing the documents in the strangler case for the procurator fiscal's office. She'd tucked herself away in a dusty corner of the basement, but Drummond found her. She looked up as he came into the room.

  'Thought you could probably do with this,' he said, putting a cardboard cup of coffee from the machine down beside her. He glanced over the litter of documents. 'You drew the disclosure straw. Sorry…'

  She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and reached for the coffee he'd brought. 'I don't mind. It's better than you doing it.'

  'What? You think I might kick off on one if I read all these witness statements again?'

  Gail raised an eyebrow that clearly said that was exactly what she'd meant.

  Drummond nodded. 'I've been warned to stay a million miles away from the case. The DCI doesn't want me digging up any new evidence.'