The Eye in the Dark

by Katherine Pathak

  As Dani stretched her back, which was suffering after even a brief stint on the badly sprung sofa, Nate approached her along the corridor.

  “So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” He accompanied the words with a grin.

  She held up her hands. “Guilty as charged.”

  Nate cocked his head. “We may have just found something interesting at last.”

  Dani sprung to her feet. “Great, show me what you’ve got.”

  The image was grainy. It showed a tall man in the Lomond Airways cleaners’ uniform pushing a trolley towards one of the passport control areas at Heathrow. The time code indicated it was 5.24pm on the afternoon of Kathy Brice’s murder.

  “I know the picture isn’t very clear,” Nate said apologetically, “but I’m hoping the techies can clean it up for us.”

  Trudy tapped the screen. “The DC who was examining this piece of footage also had a list of all the domestic employees who were on shift at Lomond during the time period in question. The only cleaning staff authorised to be working at the airport were female.”

  Dani squinted at the blurred figure in the shot. “And this is definitely a man.”

  “Precisely,” Nate added.

  “Where is he headed to?”

  Trudy pointed to the passport control desk visible on the frozen image. “Beyond that desk is a corridor with access to gates 50-60.”

  Dani clapped her hands. “Kathy was killed at gate 52.”

  “Bingo,” said Nate. “But we shouldn’t get too excited. All we have is a fuzzy profile of a man. The techies will be able to ascertain his height. His hair appears to be a sandy blond. But he could easily be wearing a wig. I certainly would if I was about to commit a murder in an area dotted with cameras.”

  Dani sighed. “You’re right.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “But we’ve now got a picture of a man who must surely be the prime suspect for Kathy’s killer. He had to be a person who would have access to a Lomond Airlines uniform and security pass. That gives us something solid to work on.”

  Nate straightened himself up to his full height. “We need to make another visit to Lomond Airlines. This time around, we won’t let ourselves be fobbed off.”

  Chapter 28

  The second Andy Calder grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and told his colleague he was off home, Sharon hurried towards Bevan’s office. She could see that Muir was still in there, leaning over the desk. He glanced up as Sharon drummed her knuckles on the flimsy window.

  “Any luck at the hotel?” He asked with genuine interest.

  Sharon closed the door firmly behind her and took a seat. “I found out the member of the domestic staff who discovered the Bauers dead was a woman called Lysette Carson. She’s 44 years old and lives in Govan with her husband and kids.”

  “Did you interview her?”

  Sharon shook her head. “At the time of the Bauers’ deaths, the hotel manager told me the cleaner who found them was sent home on compassionate leave, which was fair enough. He also assured me the room had been left exactly as she’d found it. We weren’t treating the deaths as suspicious, so I took the man at his word.”

  “Do you have reason to doubt him now?”

  “I’m not sure. Lysette came back to the Berkley for a few days and then demanded to be re-located to another hotel in the chain. She’s now working at the Triton at Prestwick.”

  “Damn. It’s going to be tricky to question her there. The manager may want to speak with the DCS, to check our jurisdiction.”

  Sharon ran a hand through her unruly curls. “Don’t you find it odd that Lysette left the hotel so swiftly?”

  “Well, if I’d seen two corpses at my place of work, I might have second thoughts about staying there myself.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But they’d only died in their sleep. I saw the scene myself. They looked pretty peaceful.” Sharon summoned a map of the city onto her phone screen. “Look, the Berkley was a lot more convenient for Lysette to get to than Prestwick Airport. She’s got a hell of a commute now.”

  “You think it may not have been her decision to leave?”

  Sharon nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. I did some checking on the system. Lysette moved to Scotland from Srebrenica in the late nineties. She married a Scot and settled here. I expect she’s seen far worse in her life than an elderly couple who died apparently peacefully in their sleep.”

  Muir considered this. “You’re right. Something about it doesn’t add up.”

  Sharon leaned in closer. “There’s something else. The Berkley is part of a chain of hotels. I hadn’t realised that before. The hotels are owned by Denny Lomond – you know, the aeroplane guy? That struck me as significant, but I’m not sure why.”

  Muir gave a start. “It’s DCI Bevan’s case down in London. The victim was a stewardess for Lomond Airlines. Bevan told me they’ve been questioning Denny Lomond as a potential suspect.”

  Sharon’s eyes widened. “That’s it! I read about the woman’s death on the BBC news site. I took an interest because I knew the boss was involved. It mentioned the victim worked for Lomond, but I didn’t take much interest at the time.”

  Muir glanced at his watch. “Should we bother the DCI with this? It’s just a coincidence that doesn’t really have any bearing on her case?”

  Sharon let out a snort of derision. “If DCI Bevan discovers we knew this fact and didn’t tell her, our lives will not be worth living in this place when she gets back.”

  Muir didn’t hesitate any further. He got out his phone, scrolling through the contacts until he found Bevan’s number.

  *

  This time the detectives entered the office of Denny Lomond’s secretary, they were holding a warrant from a judge at West London Magistrates’ Court.

  Diane Martin abruptly ended a conversation she was having on the phone. “I’m afraid you didn’t call ahead to warn me. Mr Lomond is very busy. All day.”

  Nate placed the official document on the desk in front of her. “We have been authorised to search these premises. Please inform Mr Lomond that we wish to talk to him. If he can’t do it here, we will have to arrest him and do it at the Hammersmith police station.”

  A figure appeared in the doorway beyond. “There’s no need for that, Detective Inspector. Come into my office. I’m sure we can co-operate reasonably with your demands.”

  Denny Lomond disappeared inside. The detectives followed. There was no offer of refreshments on this occasion.

  All three remained standing.

  Nate showed the CEO a copy of the still from the CCTV footage. “This man, caught on camera wearing a Lomond Airline’s uniform was heading towards the gate where Kathy Brice was murdered, just minutes before her death.”

  “Your Domestic Services Manager furnished us with a list of personnel on duty that afternoon. Not one of them was a man,” Dani added.

  “We need to identify this person urgently, Mr Lomond. Do you recognise him?”

  He peered at the image, slowly shaking his head. “I’ve never seen that person before. Although, it isn’t a very clear picture, is it? Surely it wouldn’t be of any use in a court of law?”

  Nate could feel his anger bubbling up. “How many men do you have working for you as cleaners, Sir?”

  “A few. You’ll have to get their details from the Domestic Manager. He’ll be happy to help.” Lomond’s expression was impassive, he was giving nothing away.

  “Doesn’t it concern you that Kathy Brice may very well have been murdered by a man who had access to a Lomond Airlines’ uniform? He must also have had one of your security passes in order to have got past passport control.”

  Denny shrugged. “It’s unfortunate, but I’m sure it can’t have been one of my staff. We have them all very closely vetted.”

  Dani decided to change tack. “Yes, but isn’t it also unfortunate that a couple were found dead at one of your hotels in Glasgow a fortnight ago?”

  The man’s eyes displayed a t
iny flicker of concern. It was gone in an instant, but both detectives had seen it. He hadn’t been expecting that question.

  “I’ve spoken at length with the manager of the Berkley about that tragic incident. But the Fiscal’s findings were conclusive; the couple were elderly, both suffered from pre-existing heart conditions. Their deaths were due to natural causes. A tragedy for their family back home in Germany, I’m sure.” Denny stood still with his legs slightly apart, the pose was almost combative.

  Dani sighed deeply, theatrically. “Tragedy just seems to follow you around, doesn’t it, Mr Lomond?”

  The man took a step forward, his hands forming into fists. “What do you mean by that exactly?” He growled.

  Nate put an arm out to shield his colleague. “Whoa there, lets calm it down a little, shall we?”

  “I meant, first Autumn Carlisle’s bloody death, then Kathy Brice is brutally murdered whilst working out of this building and then two bodies wind up in what turns out to be another of your commercial premises.” Dani looked him straight in the eye. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

  Lomond curled his lip into what could only be described as a snarl.

  “Right. I suggest we go and get the information we need from the Domestic Services Department,” Nate declared. “Don’t leave the building, Mr Lomond. We may be required to speak with you again before we return to the station.”

  Nate hustled Dani out into the corridor. “What the hell was that all about?”

  Dani shuddered. “I think we’ve just caught a glimpse of the real Denny Lomond, and it wasn’t pleasant.”

  Chapter 29

  Dermot and Sharon approached the block of flats together. There was no buzzer to gain entry to the communal staircase. The grey concrete walls emitted the aroma of stale urine, as if it had seeped into the very core of the building.

  The Carson family resided on the second floor. The door to their flat was accessed along an open balcony, with views over the sprawling south Glasgow estate.

  Sharon pressed the bell. She could see a flash of movement within. It took a few moments before a thin woman answered. Lysette Carson was wearing a grey tracksuit with pink piping, her hair pulled back into a pony-tail.

  “Mrs Carson? We’re from the Serious Crime Unit. May we come in?” Sharon made sure the woman examined her ID carefully.

  Lysette retreated into the flat. She stopped in the living room, which was sparsely furnished but neat and tidy. “What is this about?” Her voice was wary.

  “It’s nothing to worry about, purely routine.” Sharon perched on the arm of a sofa. “I was supposed to interview you a couple of weeks ago, back when you were working at the Berkley hotel. But you were off sick. Then I found out you’d changed jobs. So, I’ve come to talk to you here, instead.”

  “Is this about the couple who died?”

  “Yes,” Dermot added. “You were the person who found them, weren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I was on duty on their corridor that morning. It was my job to clean all the rooms. It had to be done by 11.30am. There is always pressure.”

  “I can imagine,” Sharon said gently. “Could you talk us through what happened on that particular day?”

  Lysette inched towards the window, as if searching for a means of escape. “Mr Bartlett told me not to talk to the police.”

  “The manager of the Berkley Hotel?” Sharon became alert.

  Dermot raised his eyebrows. “Why on earth did he say that?”

  Lysette shrugged. “He wanted to handle the situation himself. He said it was damage limitation. The deaths were bad publicity for the hotel. He would handle any interviews.”

  “It was part of a police investigation,” Dermot said levelly. “We decide who to interview.”

  She nodded her head. “I know that. But Mr Bartlett was my boss, I had to do what he said. After a few days, he told me I must move to the hotel at Prestwick. I tried to complain but he said I must go, they were understaffed at the Triton, desperate for cleaners.”

  “Why do you think he made you transfer to another hotel?” Sharon kept her tone kindly.

  “I heard the children of the German couple were coming to look at where their parents died. Within a few hours of this news, I was told I needed to go.” She flicked her pony-tail in a defiant gesture. “I believe Mr Bartlett wanted me out of the way, in case these people tried to speak to me about what I saw.”

  Sharon sucked in her breath. “Will you tell us what you saw?”

  “I don’t want to lose my job.”

  “Mr Bartlett isn’t your boss any more. What can he do?”

  She shrugged. “I have been thinking this myself. I am doing a very good job at the Triton. The manager is a lady and she is pleased with my work. I think she would object to anyone sacking me. Besides, this is Scotland. You can’t sack a person for no good reason. I’m not some frightened illegal immigrant who can be bullied and intimidated. I am a British citizen.”

  “Quite right, Mrs Carson.” Dermot puffed out his chest. “If you talk to us, we give you our reassurances that your job will be safe.”

  Lysette cast him a doubtful glance but proceeded to speak anyway. “I had completed a quarter of the bedrooms on my corridor. When I reached the room of the German couple, there was no reply to my knock. It was after 9am, this usually means the occupants are at breakfast. This couple were early risers. So, I opened the door with my key card.” She took a deep breath. “The man and lady were stretched out on the bed, neither of them moving.”

  “On top of the covers?” Sharon tried not to sound surprised.

  She nodded. “They were in their night clothes. The lady was curled up like a baby, her hands at her throat and the man was clutching his chest.” She sighed. “Sadly, I have seen many dead bodies before. I grew up in Bosnia during the war. I saw the bodies of my father and brothers in a pit. I looked at the expressions on their faces. I wanted to know how they had felt, to understand what they went through in those last moments. I saw something similar on the faces of that couple.”

  Sharon gasped. When she’d seen the Bauers, they were tucked up under the covers, their expressions the picture of serenity.

  “It was terror that I saw. There were no signs of violence on their bodies, not like the bullet wounds in my father and brothers. But their faces told their own stories. The couple had been frightened to death.”

  Dermot asked softly, “what did you do after finding the bodies?”

  “I went downstairs to tell the Domestic Services Manager. He is a decent man, he sent me home for the day, said I would be in shock. He made sure I got paid for a full shift.”

  “You never went back up to the bedroom?”

  “No, I had no reason to. I knew the manager would call the police. I expected to be questioned at some point, but it never happened. Then, Mr Bartlett told me I would be changing hotels and that I should keep my mouth shut.”

  Sharon got to her feet. “Would you be prepared to give us a signed statement setting out exactly what you’ve just said?”

  “Why not. It is the truth, after all.”

  Dermot stepped forward and shook her hand. “Thank you, Mrs Carson. I wish you and your family all the best in the future.”

  Chapter 30

  The dawn was starting to break as Rhodri Morgan drove along the M80 towards Cumbernauld. He had received a phone call from Mike Carlisle in the early hours. The man was frantic, worried his wife was having some form of psychotic episode.

  Rhodri had calmed his friend down as best he could, entreating him to make sure Betsy was safe until he got there.

  The professor had left early enough to ensure the motorway was clear of traffic. He reached the Carlisle’s stone property by breakfast time. One of the neighbours was emerging from the house next-door in a smart suit, unlocking an executive car on the driveway.

  Mike opened the door as Rhodri approached. He’d clearly been watching for his arrival. The man had dressed in a rush; the collar
of his shirt turned up and his grey hair ruffled at the temples.

  “Rhodri, thank you so much for coming. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  Rhodri put down his briefcase in the hall. He noticed Dodie curled up in a basket in the kitchen, her jet-black eyes held his; they were full of sadness. This wasn’t the excitable pup he’d encountered on his last visit. The dog had obviously picked up on the fraught atmosphere in the house, the odd behaviour of its owner.

  As he drew closer, Rhodri saw that Betsy was pacing the length of the sitting room, still in her dressing gown. Mike was propped on the arm of one of the chairs, looking on helplessly.

  Rhodri moved closer to her. “Betsy,” he said softly. “It’s Rhodri here. I’ve come to see if I can help. Won’t you sit down?”

  Betsy fixed him with a curious stare, as if she’d never set eyes on him before. She continued to march up and down, like a soldier on parade. The professor noticed then that she was muttering under her breath. He laid a hand on her shoulder. She stopped dead in her tracks.

  Rhodri led her very gently by the arm to the sofa, guiding her onto the seat cushion. “Could you brew some tea, Mike? Make it nice and sweet.”

  Betsy’s taut body seemed to relax just a fraction.

  Rhodri positioned himself on a tasselled footstool in front of her. “It’s Professor Morgan, Betsy. Do you know who I am?”

  She nodded almost imperceptibly. The muttering continued.

  “That’s good. I’m here to help. I know it’s been a difficult time for you. But this difficulty will pass. Things will get easier, I promise.”

  Betsy glanced up, her mutterings becoming louder, more audible. “We watched from the window. They tried to pull him out, but the flames were too high. He wasn’t dead yet, you see. I saw his face – the absolute terror in his eyes.”