PENURY: A bizarre death tests Scotland’s finest (Detective Inspector Munro murder mysteries Book 12)

by Pete Brassett

  ‘In the bag, chief.’

  Munro helped himself to a toastie, glanced at Duncan, and smiled.

  ‘Forgive me for saying so,’ he said, ‘I know you like working in plain clothes, Duncan, but could you not wear some that are clean?’

  ‘They are clean, chief. It’s called the power of deception. You should know by now, never judge a book by its cover.’

  ‘If you were a book, young man, you’d be in the bargain bin at Waterstones.’

  ‘Now, now,’ said West, grabbing a coffee, ‘it’s too early for squabbles. So, Dougal, what kept you up all night?’

  ‘Assault on a vagrant, miss, it came in yesterday. I’m trying to identify the perp but it’s a wee bit of a struggle.’

  ‘Fill me in later, right now I need to know about the bloke who’s living with Emma Riley, or should I say, the bloke we think is living with Emma Riley.’

  ‘Daniel McIntyre? That won’t take long. He’s what you might call a bit of an enigma.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘The vehicle we traced, that Lexus, is registered to Riley’s address but he isn’t. He’s not on the open register or the electoral roll so he’s clearly not voted, not around here, and he’s not paying council tax or anything else for that matter. I’m working my way through all the McIntyres in the county to see if I can find one with the same date of birth but it’s taking time.’

  ‘How far have you got?’

  ‘I’m on number 6. Only another 138 to go.’

  ‘Well, keep at it,’ said West. ‘And get onto the DVLA, ask for a copy of the picture he’s used on his licence, at least then we’ll have a likeness. Okay, next – Emma Riley. Has she applied for Jobseeker’s or housing benefit since she got out?’

  ‘I’ve not checked but if her track record’s anything to go by, I doubt she’d bother.’

  ‘Have a look anyway. If she has put in a claim, I want to know if she’s told them she’s living alone.’

  ‘Okay, but why?’

  ‘Because,’ said West, ‘if she has, and it turns out she’s living with this McIntyre bloke, then we’ll do her for benefit fraud.’

  ‘Nice one,’ said Duncan. ‘A good night’s sleep seems to have cleared your head, miss.’

  ‘It has. That and a decent bottle of red. So, are we good to go?’

  ‘We should wait until sunrise,’ said Duncan. ‘We don’t want to cause a ruckus, do we?’

  ‘No, fair enough. Right, let’s finish breakfast while Dougal tells us what he’s been doing for Jimbo.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Munro, ‘and I’m hoping you’ve had more success with my Mr MacDuff than you did with that McIntyre fellow.’

  ‘I did, boss. Alan MacDuff. He’s forty-nine years old and he rents a flat here, in Ayr. He’s recently divorced and get this, he’s got a restraining order hanging over his head.’

  Munro, excited at the prospect of dealing with someone whose slate was less than clean, pushed his coffee to one side and listened intently.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘what exactly did he do to deserve that?’

  ‘I’m not across on the “whys”,’ said Dougal, ‘jealousy maybe, but it appears that once he’d separated from his wife he felt obliged to keep an eye on her. He’d pop up unexpectedly when she was out shopping, or getting her hair done, or having a drink with her pals. On top of that he had a habit of pulling up outside her house and just sitting there. Watching. She finally reported him to the police when she found an air freshener on the dressing table of her bedroom, one she claims she never bought. It turns out the air freshener contained a wee camera and that instigated a search of the entire property during which they found two more cameras and a tracking device in her car.’

  ‘So the man was obsessed?’

  ‘To say the least.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said West. ‘If he lives in Ayr then how come we didn’t conduct the investigation?’

  ‘The marital home was in Springburn, miss. Galloway Street. The lads in Glasgow handled it. MacDuff moved here when he was handed the order.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘He’d worked as a mechanic prior to their separation,’ said Dougal, ‘but the garage let him go on account of him intimidating the female clients.’

  ‘And his wife?’ said Munro. ‘What do we know about her?’

  ‘Very little. She goes by her maiden name now of Catherine Clark and she works as a sales assistant in the local pharmacy. It was MacDuff’s behaviour at the garage that tipped her over the edge, that and the fact he’d been unemployed for a couple of months as a result, so she kicked him out and I can’t say I blame her.’

  ‘Nor I,’ said Munro. ‘And is he still unemployed?’

  ‘No, no. He set himself up as a security consultant soon after he moved here.’

  ‘What kind of security?’

  ‘Cameras mostly. He’s on all the social media and often posts a wee photo of the work he’s done.’

  ‘Is he listed as a limited company?’

  ‘There’s nothing on Companies House,’ said Dougal, ‘and he uses his own name on all his publicity so I’m guessing he’s operating as a sole trader.’

  ‘It’s a bit of a change, isn’t it?’ said West. ‘I mean, to go from a grease monkey to a techno-boffin?’

  ‘It’s not that different, really,’ said Duncan with a smile. ‘You should take a look under the bonnet of that Defender of yours, miss. You’d be surprised at the amount of wiring tucked away in there.’

  ‘Watch it, you.’

  ‘All I’m saying is putting a camera up is just some basic wiring, a few leads, and a plug. I reckon anyone who’s trained as a mechanic could get his head around that, easy.’

  Munro finished his coffee, tossed the sandwich wrapper in the bin, and scooped Murdo under his arm.

  ‘I’m inclined to agree,’ he said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time I was off.’

  ‘Watch your back, Jimbo,’ said West. ‘You haven’t cleared this with The Bear yet.’

  ‘Och, dinnae fret about George, lassie. You leave him to me.’

  ‘And don’t let on to MacDuff that you know what you know or you’ll back him into a corner and he’ll clam up.’

  ‘I shall be the soul of discretion, Charlie. Aye, that’s the word. Discretion.’

  Chapter 5

  Lined with warehouses, workshops, light industrial units, and a cluster of low-rise tenement blocks, Taylor Street – a deserted cul-de-sac awash with well-worn tyres, wooden pallets, and piles of bin bags, appeared all the more foreboding in the dark before dawn.

  Munro – no stranger to skulking around unsavoury housing estates in search of suspects – dipped the headlights, coasted to the end of the road and, ascertaining MacDuff’s residence to be the corner flat with uninterrupted views of a builders’ yard to the front and Griffin Dock to the west, stopped just short of the communal entrance.

  Believing that anyone in gainful employ should by now have risen from their bed, he left Murdo wrapped in a tartan blanket, dashed across the street, and stabbed the entryphone, grimacing as a biting breeze whipped around his head.

  ‘Mr MacDuff?’

  ‘Who’s asking?’

  ‘James Munro. Police Scotland.’

  Munro, expecting a sharp rebuff, frowned and cocked his head at the ensuing silence before allowing himself a satisfied smile.

  ‘Hold on.’

  Wary of anyone claiming to be a delivery driver, a meter reader, or even an MP canvassing for votes, MacDuff, dressed in jogging pants and a T-shirt, padded down the hall and inched open the main door, a grave look of suspicion on his face.

  ‘Police?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Munro, disarming him with a gentle smile and a twinkle in his steely blue eyes. ‘Accept my apologies for arriving unannounced. I hope I didnae drag you from your bed.’

  ‘No. You’re alright.’

  ‘Would it be okay if we had a wee chat?’

  ‘What about?’

&nb
sp; ‘Your discovery.’

  MacDuff thought for a moment, shuffled nervously on the spot, and shivered.

  ‘Have you any ID?’

  ‘No,’ said Munro. ‘I’ll be perfectly frank, Mr MacDuff, I’m not here as part of an official inquiry. I’m retired. You’re under no obligation to speak with me at all and if you prefer I can simply walk away and leave you in peace. The senior investigating officer, Detective Inspector Byrne, will be in touch soon.’

  ‘I’m confused,’ said MacDuff. ‘If that’s the case, then why are you here?’

  ‘To help. You see, Mr MacDuff, I’ve dealt with cases like this before, more than I care to remember, and after an ordeal like yours I can assure you it’s often better to talk things through with a friendly face before the real questioning starts. Trust me, it will help to get things straight in your head. Clarify the sequence of events, as it were.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ said MacDuff. ‘I mean, how can I be sure you are who you say you are?’

  ‘You cannae,’ said Munro. ‘As I say, I’m retired and although I continue to work as a volunteer with the Ayrshire force, I no longer possess a warrant card so I suppose you’ll just have to take me at my word.’

  ‘Me, trust a policeman? That’s a first.’

  Munro, as if admitting defeat, raised a hand, turned to leave, and paused.

  ‘How are you sleeping?’ he said, glancing over his shoulder. ‘Cannae be easy with an image of a scarecrow stuck in your head.’

  MacDuff took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  ‘Come away inside,’ he said. ‘It’s pure Baltic out there.’

  * * *

  Comfortably furnished in the style of a house-bound pensioner with neither the funds nor the desire to decorate, MacDuff’s ground floor flat was devoid of the mementos and worthless knick-knacks married couples have a habit of accumulating over the years.

  Suffocating in the dry heat of the electric storage heaters, Munro, unimpressed with the lack of ventilation, unzipped his jacket, loosened his tie, and stood in the centre of the lounge with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

  ‘Kettle’s just boiled,’ said MacDuff. ‘Will I fetch you a brew? You look like you could do with warming up.’

  Never one to refuse hospitality when offered, Munro nodded and accepted the offer graciously.

  ‘Much obliged,’ he said. ‘Milk and three.’

  Without so much as a pot plant to capture his attention, he focused on a half-eaten slice of toast and the flickering laptop lying on the coffee table as he waited for MacDuff to return.

  ‘How did you find me?’ he said, handing Munro a mug. ‘I didn’t leave any details when I reported the body.’

  ‘Tracing a number and identifying the caller is easier than you think,’ said Munro. ‘The fact that we have to do it is, I’m afraid to say, a sad reflection of the times we live in.’

  ‘Everyone looking over their shoulder, you mean?’

  ‘Aye, something like that. I understand you’re in the security business, Mr MacDuff.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘You’re all over the internet.’

  ‘I suppose I am. Aye, security, that’s what I do.’

  ‘And if you dinnae mind me asking, what does that entail exactly? Arranging bouncers for nightclubs, is it?’

  ‘No, no. It’s not that kind of security,’ said MacDuff, ‘it’s cameras, CCTV, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Is that so? Sounds quite complicated to a Luddite like myself. You’re obviously blessed with the technological know-how.’

  ‘Anything but,’ said MacDuff. ‘It’s easy really, no different to wiring a plug and sticking a wee telly on the end.’

  ‘And is that why you were in Auchencairn?’

  ‘Aye. Rebecca Barlow. She’s doing up the old hotel and wanted a surveillance system installed, nothing fancy, just the usual.’

  ‘I see. Don’t take this the wrong way,’ said Munro, ‘but would it not have been easier if she’d got someone closer to home, in Dumfries maybe?’

  ‘Probably,’ said MacDuff, ‘but she said I’d been recommended so she invited me to tender for the job. It was work and I wasn’t going to turn it down.’

  ‘No, of course not. Tell me, did you find out who it was that recommended you?’

  ‘I never asked. Perhaps I should have. Although I did rack my brains trying to think whom I’d worked for recently that might have known her but I gave up.’

  ‘Well that’s by the by,’ said Munro. ‘So, you were saying Miss Barlow contacted you and was that by phone?’

  ‘No. Email.’

  ‘And you arranged to meet?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And where was that?’

  ‘At the hotel,’ said MacDuff. ‘I suggested it, after all I had to survey the property before I could quote on it.’

  ‘And Miss Barlow, did she seem okay? I mean, not depressed, or pre-occupied, or anything like that?’

  ‘No, no, quite the opposite,’ said MacDuff. ‘She was in good spirits, we had a wee laugh. If I’m honest, I thought she was a cracking lass, and not just to look at.’

  ‘I’m sure. And then?’

  ‘We agreed a price and I said I’d be back the following day to start laying some cable. She said if she wasn’t there to let myself in, that the door would be open, and it was.’

  ‘So, just to be clear,’ said Munro, ‘the morning you started the job, you left here and went straight to the hotel, is that correct?’

  ‘Aye. No. Actually I stopped at the shop in the village. I’d not had my breakfast and I was hoping to get some food and something hot to drink.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Aye, she fired me up a bacon roll and did me a coffee, too.’

  ‘I bet they must have been curious,’ said Munro. ‘A stranger dropping by at that time of the morning.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there, it was like…’

  ‘Like what, Mr MacDuff?’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just thinking back. See here, the woman in the shop, she was nice enough, just small talk, you know? She thought I was passing through but when I mentioned I was working on the hotel it was like I’d touched a nerve.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Hard to say,’ said MacDuff. ‘She went cold. Angry. I got the distinct impression Miss Barlow was not well-liked in the village. No, actually I’d go so far as to say she wasn’t welcome. At all.’

  ‘And what gave you that impression?’

  ‘Apparently the hotel’s not the only property she’s snapped up. She’s had a few, given them a lick of paint, and sold them on but not to the locals. I think what annoyed them more than anything else is the fact she doesn’t even live in Auchencairn.’

  ‘Oh? So where does she stay?’

  ‘About twenty miles away. I’m guessing Dumfries.’

  ‘I’m not wanting to sound flippant,’ said Munro, ‘but it sounds like a case of sour grapes to me.’

  ‘Aye, that’s what I thought although, now I think of it, she did say one thing that was, well, odd.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘She said something like she’ll get what she deserves because she’s cut down a sacred tree.’

  ‘A sacred tree?’ said Munro, feigning a subtle laugh. ‘What on earth did she mean by that?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. No idea at all.’

  ‘So, back to the house.’

  ‘Hotel.’

  ‘Aye, hotel. After the shop you went on to the hotel and started work, am I right?’

  ‘Not quite,’ said MacDuff. ‘I fetched a reel and my tools from the van, I’ll give you that, but I never started work. I had a second look around to see where I could hide the cable so it’s not noticed, right?’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I was upstairs in the main bedroom and got distracted by the view. Smashing it is, you can see clear across to the burn running–’

  Munro held a hand aloft and frowned.

&nbs
p; ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘You say you were in the main bedroom?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Miss Barlow asked you to install cameras in the bedrooms?’

  MacDuff glanced furtively at Munro, took a large swig of tea, and almost choked.

  ‘No, no,’ he said, spluttering. ‘I was upstairs to see if I could run the cable above the ceiling. To the hallway. She wanted a camera in the hallway.’

  ‘I see. Sorry, I shouldnae interrupt,’ said Munro. ‘You know your job better than I. Please go on.’

  ‘Like I say, I was at the window and I saw some stuff in the garden.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘Interesting stuff. Unusual stuff, like a willow man sculpture, and some signs.’

  ‘So you went outside?’

  ‘Aye, just to take a look, mind, after all Miss Barlow’s taste in décor is what you might call, unusual.’

  ‘And that’s when you found her?’

  ‘Aye,’ said MacDuff, sighing as he shook his head. ‘At first I thought it was just another one of her wacky garden ornaments but then… but then I saw her face.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what? I was out of there like Usain Bolt. I didn’t even stop to get my tools.’

  ‘And then you called the police?’

  ‘Aye. Eventually. When I’d calmed down, I mean it’s not every day you find a dead body. I had to tell someone.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ said Munro, ‘in fact, you’re to be congratulated for doing so. I take it you’ve been back to collect your tools?’

  ‘Are you joking me? I’ve not even been out the house.’

  ‘I cannae blame you,’ said Munro, fastening his tie. ‘It’s not easy to overcome the shock of what you’ve seen, although for your sake, I wish it was.’

  ‘As long as you catch the fella responsible,’ said MacDuff. ‘I’d not like to come across one of those again.’

  ‘Rest assured,’ said Munro, ‘I think you’ve a better chance of seeing Brechin City lift the cup. Just one more thing, is there any particular reason why you didnae leave your name when you reported the body?’

  ‘No reason, really,’ said MacDuff, ‘other than I don’t like to get involved. I like a quiet life.’