Rush to Judgement

by John Carson

  ‘Of course. As it’s something that was in the papers, then yes, I’d be happy to go over that with you.’ Matthews was looking at them like they were playing poker and he was wondering how his poker face looked.

  ‘Yes, it was a bad time for us all. Two girls were abducted, months apart. They were missing for a few days before they were found hanged in the woods. Carol was the third one, but she fought him and escaped. “A man with a beard” was the best description she could give. And this was all in the papers, by the way.’

  ‘We understand,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll read the report later. We just wanted to hear a local’s point of view.’

  ‘There are a lot of people here in the town all year round. Hikers in the summer, skiers in the winter. People passing through, stopping for a bite to eat on their way up north. That sort of thing. A stranger doesn’t stand out.’

  Matthews looked down at his lap for a moment. ‘But there’s one last thing that made it murder.’ He had Harry and Alex’s undivided attention. ‘There were sleeping tablets in the first girl’s system. Made it easier to transport her to the woods.’

  ‘That does sound like the kicker right there,’ Harry had to admit. ‘Who found her?’

  ‘A boy out walking his dog.’

  ‘What about the second murder?’

  ‘Summer 2014. Three months after the first murder. A teenage girl out walking her dog along one of the trails. She didn’t turn up for dinner and the parents started getting worried. They called their daughter’s friends. Nothing. Then somebody found her dog, a little Scottie. He had blood on his white coat. He was walking about trailing his lead.

  ‘It was a week before they found her. In the woods, hanging by her neck from a tree. He’d also stabbed her. That’s why her dog had blood on him.’

  ‘She was friends with the first one?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Yes. They went to high school together. They were both friends with Martin, the boy who found the first girl.’

  ‘Do you think he found Carol?’ Harry asked. ‘Witnesses saw a man running away. Could it have been him?’

  Matthews took off his glasses and polished them with a small cloth. ‘I don’t know. Martin had a complete mental breakdown after finding the first victim. He’s spent the last six years in New Craigs Psychiatric Hospital in Inverness.’

  ‘Is he under your supervision now?’

  Matthews put his glasses back on. ‘He is. He’s thirty now and has come back to live with his family.’

  ‘Where do they stay?’

  ‘They own the Blairgowan estate. His name’s Martin Blair.’

  Seven

  ‘You’re not sleeping, are you?’ Jimmy Dunbar said to Robbie Evans as they turned a corner and the big car carried straight on, until Dunbar corrected the vehicle.

  ‘No. This is my shitting myself face in case you haven’t seen it before. Which I think you have.’

  ‘Don’t talk pish. I’ve driven bigger machines than this.’

  ‘Go-karts don’t count.’

  ‘How about it, Muckle?’ Dunbar looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the big man holding a grab handle with one hand and Sparky with the other.

  ‘I think your driving’s fine. Sparky thinks it’s shite, though.’ The dog barked in agreement.

  They drove further down the road.

  ‘Anytime you feel like jumping in, Muckle. Left, right or straight on?’

  ‘Hang on, Jimmy, I’m trying to get my bearings,’ Muckle said.

  ‘We’re the ones who should be saying that. We’ve only just got here. You, on the other hand, have been staying in this fucking backwater for a month now. This is not the time for getting your bearings.’

  ‘Second left. I remember it now.’

  Dunbar made the turn and the car bit in and got itself going up the hill like it was on drugs.

  ‘All or nothing with this fucking thing. How did the army cope with them?’ he said. He stopped the vehicle at the top of an incline with houses on either side.

  ‘I feel like I should put the kettle on and make some sandwiches, we’ve got that much time. You lost your marbles again there, son?’

  ‘Bearings,’ Muckle corrected.

  ‘I think I was right first time.’

  ‘There it is.’ He pointed across the road and along to the right. ‘That’s the house we’re looking for.’

  ‘You sure now? I mean, it’s no’ halfway up Ben Nevis or something?’

  ‘Wrong part of the country.’

  Dunbar drove into the street and stopped half on, half off the pavement outside a house. The heavy snow was making it difficult to distinguish what was what.

  ‘I’ll stay in the motor here, Jimmy,’ Muckle said.

  ‘Aye, you do that, son. I’ll give you a shout if we need Sparky boy there.’

  Dunbar and Evans played games with the gate, which didn’t want to shove the snow out of the way. Dunbar eventually got it open far enough to get through and they made their way to the front door.

  ‘Notice how I wouldn’t have had to open the gate so far?’ Evans said.

  ‘So I’m a fat bastard now?’

  ‘I’m kidding, boss.’

  ‘Maybe it’s all those fish suppers I’ve been eating. But tell you what, I think I’ll start using the one along the road. You know, the one where what’s-her-name works?’

  ‘Actually, I meant to ask, you been working out?’ Evans said, reaching around his boss and ringing the doorbell.

  ‘Too late now, cheeky bastard.’

  A young female family liaison officer answered the door. Dunbar and Evans showed their warrant cards.

  ‘We need to talk to the family,’ Dunbar said.

  She smiled and stepped aside. ‘I was just about to get the kettle on.’

  ‘Where’s your patrol car?’

  ‘We don’t have that many to go around. I was dropped off. Mr Douglas is in the living room, on your left. Mrs Douglas is in bed. She was sedated by the doctor.’

  They wiped their feet on a mat before going in. The thermostat was at the right temperature, not making the house seem like it was on fire.

  ‘Mr Douglas? DCI Dunbar. DS Evans. We’re heading up the investigation into the murder of your daughter. I’d like to ask some questions.’

  Douglas sighed and pointed to the couch. The TV was on, but it had been muted. ‘Aye, fire away, son.’

  Douglas looked to be in his late forties, but his red eyes made him appear older.

  They sat down and Dunbar looked at him. ‘First of all, we’re sorry for your loss, and although I can’t promise you the earth, I can promise you we’ll do everything in our power to find the culprit.’

  ‘I know you will. But I don’t think you have to look far, do you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, do you have a name for us?’

  Douglas drew his attention away from the TV to look at Dunbar. ‘That psycho nut-job who just got released from the loony bin. Martin Blair. You should check him out. He found one of the lassies hanging from the tree six years ago. The first one. He could have been at the scene of the second one, who knows? They found her after a search when her wee dog was found. Exactly the same spot, three months apart.’

  ‘Did this Martin bloke know the girls?’

  ‘He did. He was their friend. In a place like this, friends are cherished. There’s a lot of interlopers, so the locals stick together more than they would in a big city.’

  ‘Did they have a falling-out with him?’ Evans asked. ‘I mean, did Carol ever mention anything?’

  Douglas curled his bottom lip up and shook his head. ‘Far from it. They protected Martin. Some of those bastards at the school mocked him, saying he was daft, and it was true, he did have learning difficulties. But he had the protection of his family, so the bullying only went so far. Any kid caught doing it was expelled right away.’

  ‘What makes you think Martin had something to do with Carol’s death?’ Dunbar asked.

  ‘Just something Carol said
the day before she died. She said to me, “Dad, I’m scared. Martin’s out of the hospital.”’ Douglas looked at both men. ‘She didn’t elaborate. Before that, she’d always spoken about Martin like he was her friend, but when she learned of his release, that seemed to change her mind.’

  ‘How old was Carol?’

  ‘Just turned twenty. She was fourteen when the other two girls were murdered.’

  ‘Back then, did the police have any suspects?’ Evans asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was Martin suspected?’

  ‘No. Not really. I mean, they questioned him, of course, but he’s one cucumber short of a sandwich, and his grandfather put the brakes on pretty sharpish. Then the boy had a breakdown and they took him away.’

  ‘How long has Martin been out of the hospital?’ Dunbar asked.

  ‘Not sure. Maybe a few weeks.’

  Dunbar stood up. ‘If you think of anything else, Mr Douglas, then please call us. We can be reached at the station or you can call my mobile number.’ He handed the man a business card.

  Outside, it looked like they had been transported to the Arctic Circle. The FLO didn’t waste much time in closing the door behind them.

  Back at the car, Sparky looked up and wagged his tail as Dunbar got back in the big vehicle. The heat was welcoming.

  ‘Muckle, you said you saw somebody hanging around where the lassie was hanging, then he ran off. You said he had a beard.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Could it have been a young man with a ski mask on or something?’

  Muckle shook his head. ‘No, it was definitely a beard. I shone my light on his face. It was an older bloke. Why?’

  Dunbar told him about Martin.

  ‘I speak to the laddie all the time. He walks with a limp, the result of a fall when he was little. This guy took off like his arse was on fire. It wasn’t Martin.’

  ‘Then who the hell was it?’

  Eight

  The police station was a modern, two-storey affair that could have passed for any business if it weren’t for the Police Scotland sign outside the front door. Inside, the heat was pumping out, warming bones that had been chilled by the snow.

  Jimmy Dunbar stood at the whiteboard while the others sat on chairs. There were a few uniforms in and they stood around the periphery.

  ‘Thanks for being here and lending us your station,’ Dunbar said, more to keep the peace than anything else – it didn’t do any harm to have the locals on his side. ‘My colleagues went to speak with Dr Dudley Matthews over at the hospital. You probably all know him, but it was my first time meeting with him. He gave us the rundown on Martin Blair. Who here knows him?’

  All the locals’ hands shot up.

  The sergeant spoke up: ‘The Blair family have been around here for generations. They started the town really. Built up the tourism. They’re well-respected round here.’

  ‘Nobody’s here to dance on anybody’s toes, son. But we’re going to have a talk with Martin Blair, just because of his connection to the past cases from six years ago. Anybody here work those cases, where the two young lassies went missing?’

  One or two hands didn’t go up.

  ‘Right, we had the rundown from Matthews, so we know pretty much what went on back then. Martin found the first one, but the second victim was discovered after her little dog was found running about in the town with blood on him. A search party found her in the same woods, hanging from a tree.

  ‘Young Martin Blair had a mental breakdown and was admitted to the psychiatric hospital. Now he’s back, only been released for a short time. And now there’s another lassie been murdered.’

  Dunbar turned to face them all. ‘I want to know the whereabouts of Blair. I don’t care if his family are the richest people in town or not, we need to talk to him. I know Christmas Land sits on his property, but if they object, we’ll get him in here. Any questions?’

  Sergeant Lamb put his hand up. ‘Any word on the man who was seen running away from the last murder scene?’

  ‘Nothing yet. “A man with a beard” doesn’t exactly narrow it down. Did your uniforms get anything from the car park on the other side of the trail?’ Dunbar said.

  ‘Nothing, sir. There was evidence that cars had been there earlier in the day, but the tyre tracks were being filled in by snow.’

  ‘If he left on foot, where would he have gone?’

  ‘The car park is off a little road. He could have walked down and into the town in ten minutes. Nobody would have blinked an eye, there are so many strangers going about.’

  ‘Okay. I want background checks on the three girls who were killed. I want everything there is to know about them.’ Dunbar looked at his watch. ‘It’s late. Let’s meet up here first thing tomorrow. But Sergeant Lamb, I’d like you to get a couple of uniforms to patrol round Christmas Land tonight. They have security, but I’d rather they had backup.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Dunbar walked over to Harry, Alex and Evans. ‘We should grab some dinner.’

  ‘I thought I’d have a walk round Christmas Land, if you don’t mind, sir,’ Evans said.

  ‘Aye, off you go. Tell Muckle what’s going on. We’ll drop you off.’

  They left the small incident room.

  Nine

  The big police vehicle got them through the heavy snow, which was beginning to come down harder by the time they got to the Blairgowan estate. They pulled into the car park and a car that had been following them carried on down towards the Christmas Land car park, on a separate road.

  ‘Anybody could come in here by car and nobody would bat an eye,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t understand why they don’t have cameras, even if they were discreet ones.’

  ‘People with money are tight bastards,’ Dunbar said. ‘They can afford the big stuff because they cheap out on the small stuff.’

  They watched as a Subaru estate car pulled in beside them and they turned to look at the driver.

  Shug came out of the big house just as they were piling out of the Land Rover.

  ‘You’re just in time,’ Shug said to them, squinting his eyes against the driving snow.

  ‘For what?’ Alex asked.

  He smiled as the driver got out of the Subaru. ‘This is David, my husband. David, meet the crew from Edinburgh and Glasgow: Harry, Jimmy, Alex and Robbie.’

  ‘Howdy, folks,’ David said, lifting a hand. He was a tall man, thin, with glasses. He reminded Dunbar of Dudley Matthews and he briefly wondered if they were related.

  David reached into the car and pulled out a brown paper bag and handed it to Shug. ‘You left it on the counter,’ he said. He had a posh English accent.

  ‘Come on, let’s get inside,’ Shug said.

  ‘Is Christmas Land still open?’ Evans asked.

  ‘It is. A little snow doesn’t stop the visitors.’

  ‘Is…Muckle down there? Do you take a break on shifts, or…’

  ‘Vern’s inside having a coffee with Muckle. We have a quick meal break. We have radios in case the big riot of 2020 kicks off. Why don’t we all go in and have something to eat? There’s plenty to go round.’

  ‘Lead the way, son. I could eat a scabby horse,’ Dunbar said. Shug wondered if people talking about eating horses was a Glaswegian thing.

  They all went into the big house and through a doorway next to the side of the large staircase. The corridor led down to the kitchen at the back of the house.

  ‘This house is full of wee passageways,’ Shug explained. ‘The new wing was built on the other side of the house. I say new, but it was built in the sixties.’

  They went into the kitchen, where Muckle was sitting at a table talking to Vern.

  ‘I hope you left us some scran,’ Shug said.

  ‘There’s a ton of it,’ said Muckle. ‘Even the dug’s had his fill. I’ll be lucky if he wants to go back out now. Look at him. He’s got his I’ve just farted grin on.’

  ‘Oh, leave him alone,’ Vern said, and S
parky lifted his head and gave his tail a quick wag. He didn’t detect a threat from the others, so he lay back down, ready to jump into action should food or trouble be presented.

  Vern stood up and walked over to Evans. ‘Hi, Robbie. I’m just going to pour a coffee. Want one?’

  ‘Cheers, that would be smashing.’

  She walked away, over to a big contraption that wouldn’t have looked out of place in The War of the Worlds, and got two cups of coffee out of it.

  ‘She’s nice,’ Dunbar said, standing close to Evans and lowering his voice.

  ‘Aye, she is. Nice lassie.’

  ‘Better than the old boiler you’ve been seeing.’

  ‘Oh, aye. I thought you said your lips were sealed, but then you go and bring up Linda’s name to Harry. I thought you were going to be discreet?’

  ‘That was me being discreet. Me not being discreet would be to get a plane to pull a banner behind it saying, Robbie Evans is shagging Linda Fry.’

  ‘You’re shagging Linda Fry?’ Harry said, stopping behind Dunbar.

  ‘Naw, he’s no’ shagging anybody. I’m just winding him up, Harry. These young lads wouldn’t know what to do with Linda.’ Dunbar grinned.

  ‘Isn’t that the truth.’ Harry walked away.

  ‘Just kill me now,’ Evans said.

  ‘Relax. Harry’s a good guy. Even if he did find out, he wouldn’t say anything. But here’s Vern. She looks interested in you, so try not to fuck this one up. Thank God you got rid of the funny wee ponytail you had.’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand. It’s different from your younger days when you had to look in The Victorian Guide to Hairstyles.’ Evans smiled as Vern approached.

  ‘Plane. Banner,’ Dunbar said.

  ‘There you go, Robbie,’ she said, handing him a mug of coffee.

  ‘Thanks, Vern.’

  Dunbar walked away and turned behind Vern’s back, pointing his fingers at his eyes and then at Evans.

  ‘Listen, I let my sense of humour get away from me today. I apologise if I offended you. It was meant to be a joke,’ Vern said.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll just write your name on the toilet wall.’