Dead at Third Man

by G R Jordan

  ‘Go to the reception desk and put me onto them.’

  There was a commotion in the background, people shouting and greeting one another, and Stewart guessed that the passengers had arrived. But Norman was obedient and within a minute she had one of the reception staff on the telephone. Stewart was blunt but professional and when Norman came back on the mobile, she felt herself beginning to shake a little with excitement. This was her first real moment of life and death policing.

  ‘Okay, I am bringing up the app. I’ve sent the receptionist to grab my client, so I hope you appreciate this.’

  Biting her tongue, Stewart gave a polite affirmation. She could hear Macleod breathing on the mobile and the occasional word to someone at his locale. It was like she was being assessed, watched under pressure and the sweat ran down her back. Although she needed to lose some weight, the sweat and difficulty with the heat was as much from her make-up as from her slight obesity. She could never stand the sun pouring down on her, and even abroad, she sought the shade rather than be one of those glorified bronzed women she hated and envied in the same breath.

  ‘It says the van is on the west side, up past Barvas. Bhuinaig? Do you know it?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Give me the latitude and longitude, please.’ The detail was passed. ‘Is it stationary or moving?’ asked Hope.

  ‘Stationary. Has been for thirty minutes.’

  Stewart pressed the button on the mobile, unmuting Macleod.

  ‘Go, Stewart! I’m on my way!’

  Chapter 25

  Macleod hung onto his mobile as the car swerved past another plodding car on the Barvas moor. The road, which they had raced back and forwards on today was no less busy now that the sun was again in full force and at its peak height. Hope had wanted the windows rolled down, but Macleod was calling various people to see what progress was being made while they travelled, so the refreshing breeze was out of the question. Instead the air conditioning was on but Macleod was still sweating. Maybe it was not the sun.

  Stewart had galvanised everyone to an area around the hire van, sending all resources that direction and Macleod was waiting for her to call him with details of what she had found and how she was searching beyond that if no one was in the van. When she had not called, he decided to use his time in the car wisely and was calling the Rev. Mackenzie for details about Bhuinaig.

  ‘Reverend, it’s DI Macleod and I need your help.’

  There was a pause at the other end. ‘I’m seeing a lot of activity from your people, Inspector. Is everything all right?’

  There’s been three murders and an attack on someone that you know about; how would everything be all right? ‘No, sir, it is not. I need your help. We believe that your counterpart, Reverend Irvine has kidnapped three people, looking to seriously harm or kill them. We know he’s in Bhuinaig, but we need to know where he would go. We are doing house to house but is there anywhere unusual he might know about to take them. Somewhere they would be undiscovered for weeks or months possibly.’

  ‘Somewhere for the bodies or for him, Inspector?’

  ‘Well, both, really.’

  Again, there was silence on the mobile and Macleod leaned in as the car swung out around a cyclist. The siren blared and he fought to hear Mackenzie as he passed on his marshalled thoughts.

  ‘There’s an old prayer chapel, Inspector, and it looks like a ruin, just off the coast, north of Bhuinaig by about half a mile. But you need to go through a gate and past a set of sheep pens to get to it. We used to play truant there from school when I was young, but in those days the chapel was in use. But now it’s a wreck. Of course, there was a hatch below that took you to the cellar; that’s where we would hide. Used to be there for a whole day before running home to face the flack.’

  ‘Anywhere else?’ asked Macleod.

  ‘I’m struggling with anywhere else. Bhuinaig is not that large as you know. But his own church is new—it might have some hidey holes, Inspector. I wouldn’t know about it.’

  Macleod thanked the man and settled back into his seat to think through where they should go. They’d need to check the shoreline as there were always nocks and crannies you could hide in. Houses would need to be gone through as well, thoroughly. But time was of the essence and he needed to get this right. He called Stewart.

  After passing all of the information he had gleaned from Reverend Mackenzie, Macleod listened to Stewart’s plan of attack. ‘I’m sending a car over to the old ruin, sir. Coastguard’s here and I’ll get the coastline searched. There’s also a helicopter on its way now, so we should be able to spot anyone in the open. I’ll get to his manse and give it the once over.’

  They had now passed through Barvas and Hope’s relentless pace had not ceased. Looking at her, Macleod saw her strained face and the sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Her blouse while not soaked was definitely becoming clingier and he knew she was suffering in his heat like he was.

  ‘Where would you hole up?’ Macleod asked Hope.

  Without taking her eyes off the road, she said, ‘Has to be somewhere no one knows about. Somewhere they won’t even think of. And he knows one.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because they came all the way back here. Why? They could have killed them somewhere on Point, do it in the back of the van. No, he wants to talk to him.’

  ‘He wants to make him suffer, Hope. Think about it. His little girl isn’t what he wants her to be. After getting her settled into a relationship, she starts seeing Bubba who then breaks it off. Irvine’s anger turns to murder and he takes revenge on Bubba by killing his wife too, embarrassing her. I bet she was naked before she was in that pool. Maybe he had seen her displays with Dickie Smith. Declan might have mentioned it to Katie, and she passed it on.’

  ‘He then kills Jackie,’ continued Hope, ‘and attacks Alan Painter because he reckons they might have seen something, or Alan may have been told by Jackie. Alan’s also wanting to keep the club going.’

  ‘Right, Hope. And Declan goes to pieces. Maybe they were going to talk him round with the pregnancy, maybe make it all smoothed over. Or maybe she was going to go on a holiday for several months and come back without the child. Whatever he had planned got scuppered when Katie collapsed.’

  ‘And Declan realises what’s happened.’

  ‘And he gets the baseball bat from somewhere. It’s been hidden away but where.’

  Macleod’s mobile rang. ‘Stewart, sir. The old chapel is a non-starter. The place has all but fallen down and the hatchway to the cellar has been concreted over. I have people at the manse, and we are finding nothing. Mairi, his housekeeper come childminder is there, opening everything up and we are getting nowhere.’

  Macleod could hear her voice getting panicked. She must know like him just how serious the consequences would be if they did not find these people soon.

  ‘Stewart, slow down a moment. Declan found one of the baseball bats, something we could not find, and used it to smash up Bubba’s place. Where did he get it from? Irvine must have had them hidden but where? If he’s kept them hidden, could he hide there, himself?’

  ‘The Carsons’, sir. Meet me at the Carsons’.’

  The mobile went dead, causing Macleod to shake his fist. Why could she not just have told him, stayed on the line while she travelled? Looking up, Macleod saw they were entering Bhuinaig and told Hope to route to the Carsons’. As they turned past the cricket club, they saw a police car racing in front of them.

  As Hope pulled up in the driveway, Macleod jumped out and saw Stewart exiting the patrol car in front of him. He went to speak to her, tell her to slow down but she was already hustling into the house.

  ‘Sir, it must be somewhere special for Mackintosh to have missed it. I mean he had money and was successful. Maybe he didn’t share it with his wife, maybe a private place.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Stewart?’ Macleod grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. The glasses were pushed onto her nose with her free hand.<
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  ‘Listen. How open is this place? Bubba Carson was a big shot in America; he had wealth and fame, so you can bet he had things he would need to keep safe. But this house is like a museum in that you can just walk in with no restrictions, can see everything. If you were a burglar, you would laugh at this place.’

  ‘So, you think he has a safe somewhere?’ asked Macleod.

  ‘More than a safe. A room, a locked vault. That’s where he kept his baseball bats because some of these must be special to him. Maybe there’s other things too. But maybe it’s also a place he can take someone. Remember no one ever saw them together, Katie and Bubba and yet he was stringing her along, having sex. Where? Bhuinaig’s not big. Summer was seen with Dickie. In the club, everyone saw everyone else. But here, he could be discreet because he had a vault. I just don’t understand how Mackintosh missed it.’

  ‘If she wasn’t looking for a vault, ‘said Hope, ‘she might not find it. It would be subtle.’

  Macleod wondered if this was just the over imaginative mind of Stewart talking but he saw that her line of thought was at least reasonable. ‘Go, both of you, search the place!’

  Macleod followed the women into the house and looked around at the mess Declan Macaulay had caused when he went on his rampage against Bubba’s photographs. Stepping through to the main room, Macleod’s feet crunched on broken glass as he saw ripped photographs and broken frames littering the room. Hope was examining the floor, but Stewart was poking at a coat rack which sat at the bottom of the large wooden stairs to the upper floor.

  ‘There needs to be somewhere to place stairs and that,’ she said, ‘somewhere to take the descent. This is his vault, not a priest hole, so the entrance might be concealed but it would be comfortable too.’

  Macleod watched her get onto the floor and run her hand underneath the dresser. Her back was soaked, and her blouse clung to her ample figure. Whereas Hope was always athletic looking, Stewart seemed awkward examining the floor but there was no doubting the determination. Nothing was going to stop her.

  ‘There’s a draught here, sir.’

  Macleod watched her stand and then stretch to look at the coat hooks arranged in a line at the top of the rack. It had a wooden backing and little else to its make-up. At the bottom, the backing stopped short of the ground and two side pieces extended the few inches to the floor.

  ‘This one seems hardly used,’ said Stewart, pulling at a hook. The dresser swung back into the wall and a dark void became visible.

  ‘Hope,’ shouted Macleod, and then whispered to Stewart, ‘careful,’ as she started into the void. He watched her penlight switch on and sweep the blackness before finding twisting stairs descending. As she stepped carefully down the concrete steps, Macleod felt the wall inside the void, and then located a switch. It made sense that you’d have lights to your vault. As the lights came on, he heard Stewart yell.

  Flying down the short flight of stairs, Macleod saw Stewart being hit with a baseball bat and then ricochet off the wall and descend to the floor. Another man was there, holding a baseball bat and went to bring this down on Stewart but Macleod threw himself forward, knocking the man off balance. Macleod tumbled and landed beside Stewart.

  Looking up, he saw another bat descending and rolled on top of Stewart, taking the blow on his ribs which he heard crack. The bat was raised again but the man was knocked backwards, and he saw Hope step over him. He rolled off of Stewart, wincing at the pain in his side and saw Hope connect a fist to one man’s jaw. He crumpled to the ground, but she was hit in the back by another bat. On his knees, Macleod saw Declan Macaulay looking like a bloody mess, his brother beside him drenched in blood and a young girl, a teenager, shaking with fear and sporting a deep gash to her face.

  And then he saw Irvine, metal baseball bat in hand, raised to the ceiling and about to descend it on Macleod’s head. But a shadow beside him ran into the man and he fell to the ground. The stubby figure then rolled him with surprising strength and began to cuff him. A look to the left saw her sidestep a swing of a bat and drive an elbow into a man’s ribs, causing him to fall. Within seconds she had forced him to the ground and was handcuffing him as well. The third man was motionless on the floor after Hope’s punch, and he reached to his pocket and threw his handcuffs to her.

  ‘Do the honours,’ Macleod said, but then his arms went from under him and his head hit the floor. His eyes closed and he could hear Hope shouting at Stewart to get up the stairs and call for the ambulance. Then he heard Hope whisper in his ear.

  ‘Stay with us, I can’t bring you back to Jane in this state. Daft bugger, protecting your troops. I take the heavy action stuff, you know that.’

  It took all his effort, but he mumbled a question. ‘Did we save them? Are they okay?’

  ‘Well, they look like shit but otherwise . . .’

  Hope’s always so crass, he thought and then drifted off.

  Chapter 26

  Macleod shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the pain in his ribs still tender despite his release from the hospital. A pair of gentle hands helped him reposition and then came the concerned voice, ‘Are you okay, love?’ She was fussing too much; but it was appreciated.

  ‘Are you all packed?’ asked Macleod to the red-haired woman opposite him who simply nodded and looked down nervously at the space where her food would arrive. He hadn’t seen Hope this worried about a situation and he could not help, not where the situation involved her personal life. The plane would leave in two hours, and then in another thirty minutes she would be facing him at Inverness airport. He wanted it to be all right but who knew. People were people after all, able to mess up any situation.

  On his left sat a smiling face, which frankly made a change. He had not seen much of a smile on Stewart’s face since he had met her and she was now sitting beside him, dressed in a smart blouse and trousers, but with her hair down, splayed across her shoulders. It suited her and he thought that the glasses even seemed somewhat less threatening today.

  Stewart had been in the hospital overnight, but Macleod had stayed for several days while they patched his ribs and then made sure he was in no danger from internal damage. He had not realised the power in a swing from a metal bat, but he would certainly watch the next one with more caution. Still, he had saved the young woman a beating, but the recovery would not be quick.

  ‘I say we did well, and you performed excellently for a first-time, Stewart,’ said Macleod and felt Jane tap him on the shoulder.

  ‘I’m a civilian, and we are at dinner, so we are not calling each other with this ridiculous surname formality, so it’s Jane, Hope, Seoras and who, my dear?’

  Macleod rolled his eyes while Stewart answered. ‘Kirsten.’

  ‘Delightful name,’ said Jane. ‘Seoras hasn’t stopped talking about you, nearly more than he did about Hope.’

  ‘Jane, enough.’

  ‘Well, the girl deserves to know. Have you told her yet?’

  Macleod raised his eyebrows as Stewart looked puzzled. ‘Now is not the time, Jane, and kindly keep out of police business.’

  ‘I just lifted and laid you in the hospital and you’ll expect more at home so let’s not shoot your caretaker,’ said Jane, pretending to take a high and mighty attitude, ‘or it will be cold bed baths.’

  Stewart smiled but Hope remained sombre. Macleod wondered if this was the time and then decided to tell them. After all, it might be a few days before he got them together again.

  ‘Keep this under wraps, Kirsten, but Hope is going for her Sergeant’s exam and will become my official number two, not that she hasn’t been that for a while. I have permission to take on board another DC to make my team to four, based out of Inverness but with a brief for the highlands and islands. The Chief Inspector has stated I can simply transfer someone across, and I’m going to do that. I’ve seen someone I want on my team, but I don’t really know their personal circumstances. Have you someone, here or elsewhere?’

  Stewart looked shocked fo
r a moment. ‘No, sir. Sorry, Seoras.’

  ‘If you want it, I would like you in that post in Inverness and I would like you there by the start of next week. You’ll work with Hope and DC Ross, who can show you the Inverness ropes. You’ll have to be prepared to drop and go to cases wherever they are and put up with me. What do you say, Kirsten?’

  Stewart stood up and turned to Macleod and pushed back those glasses one more time. She held out a hand which Macleod shook. ‘I’d be delighted, sir, but I need a little time to organise my brother in Inverness, set up arrangements for his care if I’m to drop everything when needed. But I can do that if you can wait a few weeks.’

  ‘Delighted to have you on board,’ said Macleod. ‘You got us this win; three people alive because of your quick deductions. I don’t pick my team lightly.’

  When the main course had arrived and the foursome had eaten their fill, Jane excused herself and the conversation turned back to the case.

  ‘She lost the baby,’ said Stewart. ‘I heard this morning. Poor girl.’

  ‘That poor girl instigated the murder of two people and caused the attempts on four more. I feel for the baby,’ said Hope, ‘but she was a nasty piece of work. She screwed about and then could not accept rejection.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Macleod. ‘Bubba was to blame really. He slept with her, ignored his wife. Caused the silent father to kill him. That was what flicked Irvine’s switch. I thought him mad before with his corruption of the faith, but his guilt and fatherly instincts really did it. And once started, he had to keep going to cover it up.’

  ‘He also saw Summer with Dickie Smith,’ said Stewart. ‘He blamed her as well for not keeping her man entertained, as he put it, in his statement. Maybe Bubba should have been more like Dickie Smith. He seemed to keep the ladies entertained but also quiet.’ Stewart saw Macleod’s disapproving eyes. ‘Or maybe he should have just sorted his relationship with his wife.’