“Oh, aye. Carry on along the main street here and take a right by the war memorial. You’ll see the old barns about 300 yards along the track there.”
“Great, thanks.” Ravi stuffed the paper back into his suit pocket.
“But if you’re looking for the shysters that were rentin’ out the skips, you’ll no’ be in luck. They cleared out about a week back. I know, because my neighbour has one of their rust buckets full to the brim and parked on her doorstep. She canna get rid of it. The thing’s a bloody eyesore. Can you get the council to come and shift it?”
Ravi sighed. “Do you think your neighbour would be able to identify the men who delivered the skip to her? Might she provide us with a description?”
The man gave a hearty laugh. “A prescription more like! Old Evie’s glasses are like the bottom of a pair of milk bottles! She’s clearing her place out before she goes into the old folk’s home in Kinloch. I wouldn’t rate your chances!”
*
The rain had slackened off enough for Ravi to get out of the car and stalk around the site. One of the barns was housing a reclamation centre, where iron bedsteads and Victorian fireplaces spilled out onto the concrete paving that fronted the old building. The rest were locked up, perhaps being used to house machinery. Ravi couldn’t identify anything that suggested the skip hire company had recently operated from there.
After inspecting the site, the detective entered the reclamation barn, heading for an office at the back, where he could see a woman seated behind an old desk which looked like an antique itself.
Ravi brought out his ID. “DC Stevens, from Highlands and Islands CID, ma’am. Do you mind if I have a word?”
She looked immediately uncomfortable, slipping out from behind the desk and moving round to join him. “Aye, what can I do for youse?”
Ravi wondered how much of the stuff housed in the barn came from off the back of a lorry. Today, this wasn’t his concern. “I’m trying to track down the company that were operating a skip hire service from one of these barns. I’m told they were here until a week ago?”
The woman nodded, her posture relaxing as she realised it wasn’t her business that was under scrutiny. “I was here early to open up last Wednesday and I noticed their equipment was all gone. There had been several lorries with winching equipment, and the skips, of course, so it was quite noticeable.”
“Did you have any dealings with the men who ran it?”
“Only to pass the time of day. There were three of them, two young fellas and one older. I never caught their names.”
“Could you provide me with a description?”
She shrugged, “I suppose so.” She narrowed her eyes. “What did they do – take off without paying Sandy the rent? It wouldnae’ be the first time.”
“Something like that,” Ravi replied.
“It happens more often than you’d think. I’ve been here five years now. We’re probably Sandy’s most reliable tenants, these new businesses come and go. But I must admit, I thought the skip hire thing would last longer than it did. Folk are always clearing stuff out these days, aren’t they?”
Ravi muttered his agreement, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He wondered if the disappearance of the company who had delivered the skip to Richard McGill’s property really had any bearing on his murder. He knew every detail needed to be investigated, but although it was odd, he couldn’t work out for the life of him why it might be significant.
Chapter 16
Present Day
The office floor was nearly empty when Alice decided to go and see the boss. Dani was bent low over her desk, as she had been for the majority of the day.
Alice knocked gently on the door.
Dani looked up and smiled, beckoning her inside.
“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am.” Alice lowered herself into a chair.
“It’s the down side of management. I’m swamped with paperwork for the DCS.” Dani sat back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “What can I help you with?”
“Calder and I conducted an interview yesterday that I thought you might be interested in.”
“With the Vogels, you mean?”
Alice looked surprised. “You already know about it?”
Dani smiled. “Andy came to see me as soon as you returned from Thorntonhall. He was worried that your pregnancy hormones had started to addle your brain.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “I realise I had no authorisation to question the couple, but because of their link to the McGill case, I couldn’t resist finding out more about their lives now.”
Dani leaned forward. “Absolutely. And what did you find out?”
“Within a year of Richard McGill’s murder, the couple had adopted an eight-year-old girl called Layla. They thought they couldn’t have children of their own, but a final round of IVF resulted in twins, who are now eleven.” Alice suddenly recalled the conversation she’d had with James Irving, when he confided the problems he and Dani were experiencing trying for a baby. She abruptly wondered if it was such a good idea to be sharing this information. But her boss appeared unmoved by the news.
“I suppose the violent death of their friend made them act sooner than perhaps they might have done otherwise. They adopted the girl when maybe they should have waited longer for Nature to take its course.” Dani sighed. “But their behaviour seems entirely normal for a couple who had experienced the trauma they did. It certainly doesn’t suggest to me that Mark Vogel had anything to do with Richard’s death. He clearly wasn’t in a clandestine relationship with Holly McGill.”
“No, definitely not,” Alice agreed. “The Vogels are still friends with Richard’s first wife. She has now re-married and appears happy.”
“Yes, Ravi Stevens told me that.” Dani looked thoughtful. “It seems that Eleanor and the Vogels, at least, came through the murder relatively unscathed.”
“I think Boris and Tania went off the rails for a couple of years, but both of them are now settled.”
“Well, they had the divorce of their parents, their father’s death and then the inheritance of the money, all in the space of a few years. It’s no surprise they struggled.”
Alice paused for a moment. “The only odd thing, was Mark Vogel’s obsession with that briefcase. He seemed almost distraught at the idea it was lost forever.”
“Some people get oddly attached to their possessions.”
“But he was the only victim of the thefts who wasn’t satisfied with the insurance money. His desire to retrieve the briefcase brought him back into contact with the police after all these years. I got the feeling he would have tried to avoid crossing paths with us again at all costs. Which means he was really desperate.”
“Yes, I see your point. But the chances of us finding the case now are pretty much non-existent. The perp most likely tossed it into the Clyde when they realised it had no monetary value.”
Alice considered this. “Or threw it into a litter bin, or just dumped it somewhere. It might even have been near to the place it was stolen.”
“Yes, but are you really going to rummage through every rubbish bin along Brewer’s Street to test your theory?” Dani raised her eyebrows incredulously.
Alice glanced down at her ever-growing bump. “No, it really wouldn’t be realistic to attempt to do that.”
“Good. Then you’ll need to accept Calder’s decision, that the investigation is closed.”
*
Fergus jogged down the steps of the Edinburgh High Court, hoping he would be able to find a taxi quickly. He wanted to get back to chambers as swiftly as possible.
But as he stood on St Giles’ Street, scanning the passing traffic in vain, a hand rested on his shoulder.
The young solicitor turned to see the opposing counsel standing behind him. “Florian. We got a good result in there, didn’t we?”
The tall man raised his abundant eyebrows. “I was about to offer you my commiserations. I didn’t think you’d have wanted a cu
stodial sentence, not with time already served.”
Fergus shook his head. “The judge directed the jury towards a verdict of manslaughter, due to loss of control. It was the only conclusion possible, given the evidence, and the violence of the attack.”
“But seven years for manslaughter. It’s unusually harsh, don’t you think?”
Fergus lowered his voice as much as was possible against the noise of the traffic. “Billy Edmunds is a thug. Between you and me, I don’t think he lost control at all. He deliberately bludgeoned that man to death, just for the heck of it. He was lucky the verdict wasn’t first degree murder.”
Florian reached out his arm, as he was the first to spot a cab. “Well, if you ever want to switch over to prosecution, you’d be welcome at my chambers any day. Come on, let’s share a taxi.”
Fergus smiled gratefully, climbing into the back seat behind him.
Chapter 17
The café-bar they were seated in was full of young professional couples just like them. A few even had babies in tow, their high-spec buggies lined up by the entrance doors.
Fergus scoured the menu. “I can see why you chose this place, the food is certainly healthy for the baby.”
Alice frowned. “I’m not so sure I want a burger covered in foraged mushrooms. I wouldn’t be entirely convinced some ill-informed hipster hadn’t picked a Death Cap by mistake.”
Fergus laughed. “Fair point. I think I’ll play it safe with a plain omelette.”
“Same here,” Alice replied.
They placed their orders with the waitress and sat opposite one-another, hands lightly touching across the table.
“Are you pleased the Edmunds case is over?”
Fergus nodded vigorously. “I certainly am. Inevitably, there will be his parole hearing in due course. But I’ll be free of him for a couple of years, at least.”
“Won’t he want to appeal his sentence?”
“I’ve strongly advised him not to. I believe another jury could easily have plumped for a verdict of murder. He’s fortunate not to have received a life sentence.”
“So, what’s next?”
Fergus glanced out of the window at the busy street. “We could take in a matinée if you fancy it?”
Alice laughed. “I meant at work.”
“I know. I just don’t want to take on any more complicated cases right now. Not when the baby will be with us in only a few months.”
“You might be desperate to lose yourself in legal files when this fella crashes into our lives.”
Fergus’s expression became serious. “I won’t. I fully intend to be around for him, to enjoy those early months and days.”
The waitress set down their plates.
“It won’t be easy,” Alice said quietly.
“I’m aware of that,” he replied with a sigh. “But I spend so much of my life dealing with the guilty, examining the moral relativity of the most awful human actions. I’m very much looking forward to staring into the face of pure innocence. And keeping him that way for as long as possible.”
Alice felt tears prickling at her eyes. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
They ate their lunch in silence.
As the couple left the restaurant, a light drizzle was peppering Brewer’s Street.
Fergus hooked his arm through Alice’s. “How about that film, then?”
Alice remained glued to the spot. “Actually, I had an ulterior motive for bringing you to this particular place for lunch.”
“Oh yes?” Fergus’s tone was wary.
Alice took a deep breath and described the meeting they’d had with the Vogels a couple of days before and her subsequent conversation with DCI Bevan.
Fergus slowly processed the information. “Hang on, did you bring me here on a Saturday lunchtime, so that you could make me go through the public litter bins?”
Alice clutched his arm. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I simply want to check out the area around the car-park, see if there’s any obvious place where a thief might dump unwanted items. If I wasn’t heavily pregnant, I’d do it myself.”
Fergus rolled his eyes towards the clouded sky, he appeared to be trying to calm himself down. “Okay. We’ll take a walk over there and have a quick scout around the area. But I’m not digging into any bins. They’ll surely have been emptied several times over since the robbery anyway.”
Alice’s face lit up. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” She clasped his arm tighter, leading him purposefully across the busy road.
*
Alice recognised the spot where Mark Vogel’s car had been parked from the scene of crime photos. There was a white van in the space when she and Fergus got there.
She walked slowly up and down beside the low metal barrier that divided this section of the car-park from the adjacent building site. Peering deep into the scrub beyond, she strained to see any signs that the bag had been tossed into the undergrowth. There was nothing.
Fergus had ventured further. He was following the route he could imagine a thief taking, if he wanted to flee the scene of his crime, avoiding obvious CCTV cameras. The concrete hard-standing of the car-park ended at a wire-fence, beyond which, building was taking place on a new block of flats.
He twisted round and called back to Alice. “Come and look over here!”
As his girlfriend approached, Fergus pointed out a gap in the mesh, certainly large enough for someone to squeeze through. “If I were the perp, I’d make my escape across that building site. I can’t see any cameras at this end, it’s just where they dump the hard-core waste.”
An object in the field beyond caught Alice’s eye. She nudged Fergus’s arm. “Look, there’s a skip over there. It’s half-hidden in the undergrowth.”
Fergus shook his head with resignation. “I suppose you want me to scramble through that fence and then climb up to see what’s inside?”
Alice widened her eyes innocently. “If you wouldn’t mind, darling.”
Fergus glanced down at his beige chinos. “I wish I’d worn something else.”
The fence was easy enough to shift aside. As Fergus stalked across the field, he dearly hoped the contractors didn’t have guard dogs patrolling the area. He jogged the final few yards, just in case.
The skip looked ancient, the paint was peeling from the sides to reveal rusted metalwork. Fergus reached his hands up to grip the rim, feeling the rust flaking off in his fingers. A bolt protruded from one of the sides which he used as a foothold to lever himself up.
Fergus swung his legs over the top and dropped down into the half-empty container below. He could immediately see that Alice’s theory had been correct. Strewn across the shallow layer of building debris were discarded laptop sleeves, handbags and purses. Their thief must have retrieved the money and devices from within them before tossing them away. The police would have to do a thorough search here at some future stage.
For now, Fergus knew he was looking for one article in particular. Alice had already described to him what Vogel’s briefcase looked like. As he bent down to search through the weather-worn items, a tentative voice echoed around the metal chamber.
“Fergus! Have you found something?”
“What are you doing coming so close!” He shouted back. “There might be patrol dogs out there!”
“I got worried when you disappeared over the top.”
“Well, I’ve found your thief’s stash,” he hollered back.
Alice couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “Is the briefcase in there?”
“Give me a chance!” He rummaged around in the dust. “There are a couple here that fit the description, I’ll chuck them over,” he paused and picked up a larger, less battered bag. “Hang on, this might just be our candidate. It’s much newer than the rest.”
“Great, send it over!”
“I can’t do that, it’s quite heavy, I think there’s something in it.” He picked his way carefully to the side of the skip, clambering up s
ome of the debris to wave the bag over the top by its strap.
Alice took hold of it from the other side. “Climb back over now Fergus, I can get a team to come out and examine the rest.”
“That was exactly what I was intending to do.” Within seconds, Fergus had his legs dangling over the edge. He lowered himself onto the ground beside her, wiping his hands down his trousers, which were undoubtedly ruined.
Alice turned the bag over in her hands. It was a leather briefcase, clearly well-made and expensive when new. She unclipped it and pulled it open, putting her hand inside to see what was weighing it down. Amongst several sheets of paper, the detective’s hand closed around a hard, cylindrical object. Her heart began to pound as she recognised the feel of the shiny metal. She pulled it out into the daylight.
Fergus looked unimpressed. “Christ, it’s an old torch. Were all our efforts really worth it, just for that?”
Alice examined the object carefully. The glass encasing the bulb was slightly cracked and the metal worn and scratched, but she clasped it to her chest like it was as precious as an exhibit at the British Museum. “Oh, it was worth it, Fergus. You bet your life it was worth it.”
Chapter 18
2003
Tony Shorter walked around the car, letting his eyes run over the indentations in the metalwork above the front bumper.
“I can see the vehicle has experienced a significant impact,” he stated.
Arnold Dunleavy stepped forward. “We’ve not had the opportunity to put it into the shop just yet. Work and home life’s been so busy, you see?”
Tony nodded. He glanced up at the man’s semi-detached house, positioned on a modest street near Cleland town centre. “Is it just you and your wife who live here?”
“Aye,” the man replied. “Our two children moved out years ago. One of them is married now.”
“Was Mrs Dunleavy in the car with you when you had the prang?”
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