Dark Enough to See

by Katherine Pathak

  Chapter 6

  Present Day

  There was a café on the riverbank, just outside the conference centre. Dani had agreed to meet DI Stevens there. It was a midweek morning and most of the tables were free.

  Ravi was already seated by the window with a coffee in front of him when she arrived. He got to his feet and held out his hand. “DCI Bevan, thanks so much for coming to meet me again.”

  “Please, call me Dani. Not a problem. I’m going to attend the final seminar this afternoon, so I needed to be in the area.” She sat down and placed her order with a waitress who was loitering close to hand.

  “Did you get a chance to review all of the case notes?”

  “Yes, I did, and I thought the forensic officer’s lecture yesterday was very interesting. The gun used to shoot McGill had its own individual history. The markings on the bullets it fired having a unique pattern, due to a fault in the metal casing of the barrel.”

  “It was the strongest piece of evidence we had. We knew the gun had been used in a previous shooting in a pub in Edinburgh in the mid-nineties. It was a gangland dispute. We never managed to connect the incident to a suspect in the McGill murder. The gun was most likely sold on at that time.”

  Dani nodded. “The black market in firearms not being known for leaving many traces.”

  “Precisely.”

  Dani leaned back as the waitress set down her flat white. “But you had the abandoned van?”

  “It was a Fiat Ducato. The model was built in the mid-nineties and was a rusty red colour.”

  “I saw the photographs taken when it was found, the day after the murder. It looked like it had been deliberately driven into a ditch and then a half-hearted attempt made to hide it from the road with leaves and branches.”

  “The driver would have known the police would be on their way. The man who shot McGill may have carried on into Cleland on foot. But we think it’s more likely that he was picked up by a second vehicle. There were fresh tracks at a passing point further up the road to the north-east. Although, we never identified this second vehicle. It would have been half-past midnight on a quiet road in mid-November. No witnesses ever came forward to say they saw the Ducato. But it remained the most likely vehicle to have been involved in the murder.” Ravi sipped his drink. “The van had been stolen from an outdoor centre in Laggan the previous year. The centre had used it as a kind of minibus, but there were all sorts of tools and equipment in the back, including ropes and tarpaulin. We didn’t lift anything forensically usable from the interior.”

  “Wouldn’t the gunman have had McGill’s blood on him?” Dani knew the victim had been shot at close range.

  “If he did, it didn’t get onto the upholstery of the car seats. Tony had a theory the killer put down some kind of waterproof sheeting before climbing behind the wheel, which the perp then took away with him in vehicle number two.”

  Dani narrowed her eyes. “It sounds carefully organised. The van was stolen from Laggan – could the killers have been from that area, or had a connection to it?”

  Ravi nodded. “It’s something we considered, ma’am – sorry, Dani. But our enquiries led to a blank.” He sighed heavily. “We had no fingerprints or DNA, let alone a witness description. We weren’t even sure if the killer was a man or a woman, black or white. There was only the victim’s muttered reference to a ‘he’ that indicated it was a male.”

  Dani shook her head. “Why didn’t anyone else in that cottage go to the front door when the knocking came? Or even go up to a window and peer out to see what was going on? It seems incredible that they weren’t more curious as to who was at their isolated property at that time of the night? Then we would at least have a description of the killer or killers.”

  “It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times over the years. Holly McGill was angry with Mark Vogel for not following her husband to the door that night. Apparently, she’s never spoken to him since. But there was nothing stopping her going.”

  “The widow probably knows that. She’s transposed her own guilt at letting Richard go to the doorstep alone onto Vogel. It’s a natural coping mechanism.”

  Ravi took a final gulp of his drink. “Unless it was all just lies. The three of them stayed put in that kitchen because they knew McGill was going to get shot when he opened the front door. If they didn’t go and look, there would be no witnesses to the crime.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I could’ve believed it of Mark Vogel and Holly McGill at the time, oh yes, I could. They were both awash with blood when we got there. The pair must have been all over each other to have resulted in that kind of transference. The supposed feud between them could have been a way of distancing themselves after the crime.” He flipped over a packet of sugar between his fingers. “But Anna Vogel was utterly bewildered by the incident. I’d swear she only went to that house expecting a quiet dinner party with friends. Her presence in the cottage made it too risky for the other two to have planned the hit that night, surely?”

  “Maybe it was unavoidable. Richard McGill wouldn’t have accepted the dinner party as normal if Mark’s wife wasn’t there too.”

  Ravi rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Then why not just wait until McGill was in the house on his own? It’s all just conjecture. The Vogels are still married and live in Glasgow, I believe they’ve even had children since.”

  “What about Holly?”

  “She went to stay with her parents in Dumfries and Galloway on the night of the murder and remained there for years. Apparently, she was on medication for many months afterwards. I know she never went back to her job in the city. Holly McGill has dedicated her life to keeping awareness going of Richard’s murder, in case a witness finally comes forward.” Ravi looked Dani in the eye. “Holly still calls me once a month, to see how the investigation is going.”

  “But it’s been closed for over a decade.”

  “I know. And that’s what I’m forced to tell her, every time.” The strain this conversation obviously caused him showed on his face.

  “It’s hardly the actions of a woman who arranged the murder herself.”

  “Exactly. Very little about the details of this case made any sense – then or now. Tony noticed a minor traffic accident had occurred on a nearby road that night. We looked into it and couldn’t identify a link. We ended up investigating a series of disjointed events. No wonder Highlands and Islands ended up closing the book on it. We’d left them no alternative.”

  Dani folded her arms across her chest. Reluctantly, she was inclined to agree.

  Chapter 7

  2003

  The house was an impressive four bedroomed detached property on one of Bearsden’s leafiest roads. Tony Shorter parked on the sweeping drive next to a Volvo estate.

  The DI allowed Colin Bell to lead the way across the gravel to the front door. A plump girl of about twelve years of age opened-up. Her heavy-lidded eyes were puffy and her mid-length brown hair lay limp to her shoulders.

  “Tania McGill?”

  She nodded.

  “We’re from the Highlands and Islands police force, lass. Is your mum at home?”

  The girl retreated into the hallway and allowed the two men to step across the threshold. Tony turned right, peering into the room beyond and spotting a woman leaning against the kitchen sink with her back to them.

  “Mrs McGill? We need to ask you a few questions about your ex-husband.”

  She turned. “It’s Eleanor Tasker now. There’s a new Mrs McGill. She can play the role of the weeping widow.”

  “I think we should all take a seat whilst we have a chat, Ms Tasker. Is there someone who can sit with your daughter whilst we talk?”

  “Tania will be fine in her room. Boris is at my sister’s house with his cousins.”

  The girl trudged up the stairs in silent acquiescence. Her mother dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “What do you want to know?”
>
  Tony thought she looked to be in her late forties. Her expression was pinched with anxiety, making the lines around her eyes more pronounced. Her hair was cut in a chic style around an oval face which was clearly attractive under normal circumstances.

  “When did you last speak to Mr McGill?” Colin Bell decided to get the ball rolling.

  “On Thursday evening. He was due to have the children this weekend coming. We were talking about the arrangements.”

  “Was the situation amicable?”

  Eleanor snorted. “It’d been worse. But recently, Richard had taken to chastising Tania about her weight, which is pretty much the worst thing you can do to an impressionable young girl. I’ve had to tell him to keep his opinions to himself.”

  “Did you argue on the phone on Thursday?”

  “Not especially, as it happens. Richard was going to drive here to pick them up on Saturday morning. I’m going to Paris with a group of friends, so we had to get the timings right.” She ran a hand through her hair and grunted. “I’ll have to cancel that now.”

  Tony didn’t think Eleanor was being deliberately callous, he sensed she was still in shock. “Did you harbour any resentments towards your ex-husband?”

  She gazed out of the window, as if watching for another visitor to arrive. “Oh, plenty. He lied to me for four years, carrying on with his mistress behind my back. Finally, he worked up the courage to tell me. I kicked him out and got everything I could out of him in the divorce. But Richard was more use to us alive, even if he was a prick. Boris really loved him, and boys need their fathers, don’t they?” Her voice cracked. She put her hands up to her face as tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s the children I’m upset for,” she clarified.

  “You said your divorce settlement was generous, yet Mr McGill still had enough funds to renovate the cottage in Cleland. It looks like a high-spec job?”

  “You’ve got that right.” Eleanor took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “When Rick’s father died three years ago, he told me that the estate was tied up in probate and it would take years to sell. In fact, he sold up within a few weeks and gifted the money to Holly.” She widened her eyes and looked at each detective in turn. “So that if we divorced, I wouldn’t get my half share, do you see? Holly hadn’t touched it. She was waiting until I was out of the way and they were building their new life together.”

  “That must have made you very angry when you found out?” Tony Shorter examined her closely.

  “When my solicitor told me, in the early stages of the divorce, I was feeling numb anyway. Nothing that Rick did surprised me more than finding out he’d been unfaithful for all those years.”

  “But to be so calculating about hiding his assets from you – and your children – that must have been hard to swallow.”

  “Yes, it was. But I suppose it made sense to him. The estate belonged to his parents. Rick was no longer in love with me, he’d found someone else – so why should I have a share of it?”

  “Your husband was planning financially for a future with someone else, yet he stayed with you for another couple of years. It seems rather cold.” Tony shuddered at the thought.

  “Then you are getting to understand Rick very well. He was a dishonest and a heartless man. He didn’t seem that way when I first met him, but he didn’t show me his other side.” She gave a hollow laugh. “I suppose he and Holly must have been right for each other, because she saw that darker side of him. Holly knew he was a liar who was prepared to cheat his own children out of their inheritance for the benefit of his lover, and she still married him.”

  “You think they deserved one another?”

  “In the end, yes.”

  Tony leaned forward. “We are going to have to examine your bank accounts and phone records. What you have told us gives you a strong motive to want Mr McGill dead.”

  She laid her hands flat on the table. “Go ahead, officer. I’ve nothing to hide. Do you think if Rick was capable of treating me in this way – the mother of his children – whom he once loved – that he hasn’t treated others far worse?”

  Tony glanced across at Colin Bell. They would be thorough in their investigation of Eleanor Tasker, but he had to admit, the woman had made a bloody good point.

  *

  Tony Shorter placed the phone in its cradle and hung his head. The bill for their use of the mountain rescue helicopter had run into tens of thousands, even though they’d only relied on it for a few hours. The DCC had given him an earful. His budget had spun out of control and it was only the first few days of the investigation.

  Colin Bell pushed through the door into the cramped office. “I’ve got the printouts from BT, guv. Ms Tasker claims not to have a mobile phone. We couldn’t find one in the house.”

  “Well?” Tony couldn’t keep the frustration out of his tone.

  “Most of the calls made from the Bearsden property have been to Eleanor’s mother in Tarbert, or to her ex-husband’s property. She has a handful of close friends, all of whom she was travelling out to Paris with this Saturday lunchtime. The flight was leaving from Prestwick at 1pm.”

  “It would make a decent cover if she was planning to bump her husband off, and Ms Tasker isn’t set to lose out much on the cancelled trip.”

  “But her bank accounts are in order. Because of the divorce, all the McGills’ assets had been listed in great detail. Eleanor Tasker hasn’t spent very much of the settlement she received from the divorce.”

  Tony grunted in exasperation. “She’s the only person with a motive, for Christ’s sake. If Tasker planned a hit on her husband, I expect she’d get rid of the pay-as-you-go phone she used to organise it pretty quick. But when it comes to the money, there would have to be a trace. We’d be talking about 5-10 grand for the professional job they performed, probably more.”

  Colin shrugged. “It didn’t come out of Tasker’s bank account.”

  “What about Vogel? You said he claimed McGill was squeaky clean at work. But from what the ex-wife told us, I’m not convinced that can be true. The man has a history of shady dealings.”

  “Yeah, I agree. It’s worth talking to him again. I’d better interview a few more of his workmates. These banker types are the kind of people who would have that sort of cash at their disposal.”

  “What about the widow? I think she knows more about her husband’s dealings than she’s letting on. She let him pull that nasty trick on his wife and kids with the inheritance.”

  “I’ve already sent DC Stevens down to Galloway to interview her again. He knows the kind of info we’re after.”

  “Good. Because with the abandoned van turning up clean, we need some more bloody leads. And fast.”

  Chapter 8

  Present Day

  The detention area of the Edinburgh High Court was familiar territory for Fergus Kelso. The interview rooms were spartan but bright, the walls obviously receiving a regular coat of whitewash.

  Fergus noticed a fresh growth of salt and pepper stubble across Billy Edmund’s chin. “Morning, Billy.” He sat on the chair opposite his client. “You’ll have to shave before we go into court this afternoon.”

  Billy hunched his shoulders defiantly. “Why should I? The judge already thinks I’m a hooligan.”

  “He allowed your prior offences to be revealed to the jury. He was within his rights to do so. We always knew it was a possibility. Now, it is even more important that you give the jurors the opposite impression.”

  Billy narrowed his eyes, as if his brief were talking in riddles. “Okay.”

  Fergus sighed, glancing up from his notes. “We have the witness from the bar testifying in court today. I thought we could run through the questions I intend to put to him.”

  “Ivo McAllister is a drunkard. He props up that bar most days. I’m surprised he can remember as far back as last Tuesday, never mind last April.”

  “I will be raising that issue with the man. But every witness in that bar will have had a few drinks. The
judge allowed our witness to testify, so we must take the prosecution’s seriously too.”

  “But Jacko was right there wi’ me when it happened, Ivo was at the other end of the room. Jacko knows the fight was a two-way street. Dave was threatenin’ me wi’ a glass bottle. I had no choice but to knock him flat.” Colour had rushed to Billy’s pitted cheeks.

  “Yes,” Fergus added carefully, “we’ve had our say on the matter, now the prosecution is allowed theirs.” The lawyer flicked over a couple of pages. “I intend to raise the issue of Mr McAllister’s distance from the events and the barmaid has given us a sworn statement that the man had been drinking steadily since noon. I should imagine his testimony will be easy enough to discredit.” He glanced up. “I just need to know if there are going to be any surprises in what the man will say when he gets on the stand?”

  Billy’s eyes darted about the room, finding nothing to settle on, they focussed on the hands clasped in his lap. “He might mention the billiard cue.” The words were muttered almost inaudibly.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “When the argument started, Jacko and I were playing billiards. It was kinda what started the whole thing off.”

  “Why I am only hearing about this now?”

  “Dave was a bit unsteady on his feet, like. As he went to get another drink at the bar, he barged my cue. I was in the middle of an important shot. I had a wad of cash on that game. It really pissed me off.”

  “And this is what sparked the fight?” Fergus was getting a tight feeling in his stomach.

  Billy nodded. “Aye. I had a surge of temper. I don’t really recall what happened next, I was caught up in the red mist, ya’ naw? But I might’ve pushed Dave up against the wall with ma’ cue.”

  Fergus shook his head slowly. “Then how could Dave Regis have threatened you with a bottle? If he was pinned to the wall by your billiard cue?”