by Kerry Watts
Dylan’s eyes searched Jessie’s for further orders. She pursed her lips.
‘Go with DC Logan. I’ll see you at the station, where we can continue this conversation.’
Jessie watched Dylan put David into the back of his car and drive off. Before heading back to her car Jessie called in a forensics team to go over Caroline’s flat – this time for evidence that she was involved in a double murder.
87
The forensic sweep of the flat found photos of Caroline and David: smiling, sitting picnicking on the Isle of Skye; Caroline as a toddler grinning up at her big brother, who was reading a book to her as they sat on a rug under a tree. David was a lot older than Caroline but they looked close in the photos. Dozens more letters had been stuffed into shoeboxes under Caroline’s bed dating back several years, the details of her life often harrowing in places. The frustration in David’s words at all the lost years was obvious. Not long after his conviction for murdering Peter and Mary Connor, his mother had suffered a stroke and with nobody else to take care of her, Caroline had gone into foster care for some years, eventually going on to be adopted by the Peters family after her mother passed away. It was clear the siblings had remained close and grown closer still on David’s release.
‘Where is your sister?’ Jessie asked David again. ‘Please don’t make this harder for her or yourself. We know what’s happened.’
‘Yes, what?’ David shrugged, keen to maintain the front.
‘Your sister tried to frame Rachel for the murder of her neighbours.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ he responded. ‘Why would she do that? And don’t say to get revenge. Caroline isn’t like that. She’s been through stuff you could never imagine in your worst nightmares and I wasn’t able to be there to stop any of it.’
Jessie was sure she saw his eyes moisten a little before he sniffed and turned away.
‘I know what your sister’s been through – well, some of it.’
Jessie had to admit she didn’t know everything but it was obvious to her that Caroline’s teenage years had been traumatic. Letters from social work and mental-health services were also amongst the items found at her flat; appointments with psychiatrists, psychologists, community nurses as well as other voluntary-sector organisations. Details of support groups for victims of child abuse too. Newspaper clippings – there were lots of them. Stories from the time of David’s arrest and conviction. It was clear Caroline’s mind was troubled, disturbed even.
‘My sister is a vulnerable young woman.’ David sighed. ‘Look, you have to find her. I’m getting worried about her. It’s not like her not to contact me.’
A real look of concern crossed David’s face. Jessie got that. He was scared for his sister’s well-being.
‘Can you think of any place Caroline would go to feel better or somewhere that makes her happy?’
‘That’s me. She always says I’m where she feels happy. Safe,’ he ended in a whisper. ‘You’ve got to find her.’
There was no reason to keep David at the station. Nothing concrete. What Jessie really needed was for Caroline to get in touch with him. Jessie told him in no uncertain terms that she would come for him if she got so much as a whiff he was sheltering his sister, who was now a murder suspect. With Gordon’s alibi for Rachel and the evidence – the overwhelming evidence – at Caroline’s flat, it had to be her. Her motive was revenge, Jessie decided. Revenge for the loss of her family, which had led to the abuse she’d suffered through her teenage years. Abuse that had screwed up her mind, making even double murder acceptable. Malcolm and Jean Angus had merely become pawns in Caroline’s plan. Convenient victims who had to die like Rachel’s grandparents.
Jessie knew she had to find Caroline before she took her final revenge on the woman she thought had ruined her brother’s life.
88
Caroline stopped dead. She was relieved she’d spotted the police officer stationed outside her block of flats before he’d seen her approaching round the corner. She retreated as fast as she could. It would have been better of course if she’d managed to sneak in and pack a few things, but that wasn’t going to be possible now. She had to think on her feet. They must know, she thought. That was the only sensible explanation for that officer’s presence. But how could they know it was her? Kenny hadn’t seen her – she was sure about that. He’d been easier to bring down than she’d imagined. One carefully placed thud had done the trick. Caroline had been pleasantly surprised by that – though it was a pity it had come to that. Kenny was a good guy. He’d even believed her story that she’d been mugged. The stupid man shouldn’t have tried to send her away like that. How could she enjoy Rachel’s downfall if she wasn’t right there in the middle of events? She had rather hoped that detective would blame Gordon.
Caroline had wanted to get closer to the couple – keep an eye on the investigation – and knew kind-hearted Rachel would insist she stayed with them. What Kenny saw in Rachel was a mystery. There had been so many times she’d wanted to call her out for the monster she was. Alice Connor. Caroline had never forgotten the agony her mother had gone through because of her – the pain on her face when she’d had to watch her son being taken down after the jury delivered their devastating verdict. Caroline might have been young but she remembered the crying and the drinking.
It hadn’t taken long for the woman’s heart to break completely, leaving Caroline alone in the world. Alone and vulnerable to the predators who’d preyed on her for all those years. The world wouldn’t show such compassion to Alice this time.
Caroline’s pace quickened but she wasn’t fast enough to catch up to the bus that pulled away just as she reached the stop on the Dunkeld Road. She wasn’t sure where it was headed but she was cross at herself for missing it all the same. She tugged up the collar on her duffle coat against the biting wind, despite the sun that glowed above the row of Victorian-era stone-built flats that lined the road, not far from the group of bed and breakfasts nearby. Caroline pulled out her purse and looked to see how much cash she had on her. Using her credit or debit card would be a mistake – she knew that much.
Caroline spotted a vacancy sign in one of the windows, which was lucky given it was still the festive season. She pressed the button and waited for the green man to cross the busy Dunkeld Road. Caroline jogged across the road and headed straight into the hotel. That detective wouldn’t possibly think to look for her there.
Caroline’s phone buzzed in her jeans pocket, making her jump with fright. She smiled, desperate to answer his call. She’d done it all for him but that Detective Blake must have figured it out by now, she thought. It wouldn’t have taken her and that good-looking partner of hers long to find the boots and the hairbrush. Hell, they probably even had all of her letters. The thought of them rummaging through all her personal possessions made her feel dirty. Violated. The way her adoptive father had all those years.
Caroline couldn’t risk any contact with him until she knew for sure. She let his call go to voicemail then turned her phone to silent.
David hung up without leaving a message. The fact she’d ignored his call meant she knew he’d discovered the truth. She would be hiding and probably scared, he feared. But if his sister did contact him, David would have no choice but to inform Detective Blake. He couldn’t risk being sent back to prison, and defeating the ends of justice would do just that to him.
Before heading back to Dundee he had someone else he had to see. He doubted he’d be welcomed with open arms but he had to see her – to explain what Caroline had done but more importantly why.
89
Jessie locked up her car and jogged over to where Rachel Ferguson was shouting loudly in David Law’s face.
‘What’s going on?’ Jessie called out. ‘David, you know you shouldn’t be here.’
David turned but not fast enough to escape Rachel’s heavy shove, which sent him off balance into the thick purple berberis bush outside the front of the property.
‘You
heard Detective Blake – you shouldn’t be here!’ Rachel yelled at him.
‘I know, but I need you to hear it from me. I need you to understand why.’ David regained his footing and stood up in front of Rachel. ‘Just give me five minutes, please,’ he pleaded.
David looked at Jessie, in the hope she agreed with him, she figured. Jessie eyed him carefully. She decided having him there might help add some context.
‘I think it would be a good idea if the three of us went inside and talked, Rachel,’ Jessie informed her.
‘What the hell could you possibly have to say that I would have any desire to waste my time listening to?’ Rachel blasted.
‘Rachel, please,’ David murmured. ‘It’s important.’
Rachel glanced at Jessie then back at David’s solemn expression and sighed.
‘This better be good,’ she remarked then stepped back inside the flat, leaving the front door hanging open for them to follow her inside.
David indicated for Jessie to go on ahead of him. Jessie smiled at him in response; she appreciated the gesture. The pair joined Rachel in the kitchen.
‘You’ve got five minutes. I have to get back to Kenny. I’m only home to collect a few bits for him,’ she said after glancing at her watch.
‘I think you should sit down,’ Jessie suggested.
Rachel frowned. ‘Why do I need to sit down, for goodness’ sake? Just spit it out.’
‘Caroline was trying to frame you for the murder of the Anguses.’ David blurted it out before Jessie had a chance to give Rachel the news. ‘She stole your hairbrush to plant DNA at the scene and used your riding boots to lead the trail to you.’
‘What?’ Rachel answered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why the hell would Caroline do that? That means she must have killed them.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘That’s ridiculous. Why would you say something like that about her?’
‘Because it’s true,’ Jessie interrupted. ‘After Kenny told us he smelled Caroline’s perfume before being struck on the head, we went to her flat, where we found compelling evidence to positively implicate her in the double murder.’
Rachel lowered herself into the dining chair closest to her and ran her hand through her hair. ‘What evidence? Surely we would have spotted something.’
‘I asked forensics to go through some of the clothes in the laundry hamper for gunshot residue and—’
Rachel covered her mouth with her fingers and gasped.
‘But why would she do that? I’m well aware of her affair with Kenny – I’ve known for a long time – but that’s no reason to kill a couple in cold blood. I’m sorry; I can’t believe this.’
David shot a look at Jessie she read as seeking her permission to tell Rachel the truth. Jessie nodded gently, offering him the slightest of smiles of encouragement. David sat down opposite Rachel and Rachel focused her attention solely on him. David inhaled a huge breath then slowly breathed it all the way out until he felt his lungs empty. He tried to ignore his racing heart before starting.
‘Caroline is my little sister,’ he said.
90
A week had passed since Rachel had been told about Caroline. The shock had slammed nausea into her stomach at speed. So much so she thought she might be sick. DI Blake had been kind and David had looked genuinely sorry that his sister had done something so awful. Rachel had tried to think back to things Caroline might have said or done. She had questioned whether Caroline even looked like her brother, but she just couldn’t see it. They didn’t look alike but it had been so many years since Rachel had seen David. She considered that if she’d spotted the clues perhaps the Anguses would still be alive.
DI Blake explained that Rachel needed to be vigilant because they hadn’t managed to locate Caroline yet, despite a countrywide manhunt for the dangerous, vulnerable woman. But Rachel wanted nothing to spoil her moment today. Not her moment, exactly, but Dexter’s. Today was the day they’d been building up to for months. The day she’d feared she wouldn’t see.
The sun was shining on the racecourse but the harsh winter chill still lingered. Dexter dug the ground in the saddling box. He was nervous and excited, sweating up a little, but that was normal for him. Rachel could tell he was ready to do the job he was bred for. Being a stallion meant Dexter got revved up easily, but today he’d be on his toes as soon as he was led out. He’d been a tricky ride in his two-year-old season because of his tendency to get overexcited but Rachel hoped the earplugs she opted to use on him would help. Dexter was a big stallion too, almost seventeen hands high. Kenny had tried to persuade her to postpone, and no matter how much she explained that was impossible Kenny just didn’t get it. He’d asked, what if Caroline showed up? But this was too important to Rachel and besides, she told him, Caroline wouldn’t dare do anything in such a crowded arena.
Kenny paid the cheerful young barman for the drinks and slipped his change into his pocket, eager to get back to the saddling box. Rachel had told him she’d meet him in the owners’ enclosure but he didn’t want her to be alone that long. His wife could be stubborn but he understood her need to be here today. She thought he didn’t, but he did. He’d known of her passion for horses from the moment they met, at the races. Rachel’s exuberant reaction to a horse’s win had endeared her to Kenny immediately, though Kenny had had to admit soon after that he’d been at the races that day courtesy of a business associate and his hospitality invitation. More of a business arrangement than a day at the races. Best deal he ever closed, he joked.
A slender woman cut swiftly through the crowd and caught Kenny’s eye, but when he looked for her she was gone. It was his imagination, he tried to tell himself. It couldn’t be Caroline. Like Rachel said, she wouldn’t approach them in such a public place. She must be long gone by now. Besides, the police were looking for Caroline with every resource they had. There was no way she’d get past security.
‘Hello, who is this?’ Jessie repeated for the third time and heard breathing on the line. ‘Caroline, is that you?’ She waited.
Dylan was about to speak until Jessie raised a hand to silence him.
‘Who is it?’ he whispered more loudly than Jessie would have liked.
She shot him a disgruntled glance and held her finger to her lips.
‘Caroline, sweetheart, I know it’s you,’ Jessie tried again, this time with better results.
‘I hear you’ve all been looking for me.’
‘Where are you?’ Jessie spoke softly, so as not to spook her.
‘I’ve decided to have a day at the races, Detective. Come and join me if you like. You can even bring that dishy partner of yours, but first I have to catch up with an old friend.’
The line went dead. Jessie tossed her phone into the bottom of her bag and grabbed her car keys. Dylan’s eyes widened and he stood quickly from the edge of her desk he’d perched his bottom on while he waited for permission to talk again.
‘Come on. Caroline is at the racecourse!’ Jessie shouted. ‘And so is Rachel.’
91
Rachel checked Dexter’s saddle for the last time and blew out a rapid sharp breath. Her heart raced. She’d done her bit. It was all down to the jockey now. She gave the short, thin man a leg up onto Dexter’s back, who jinked a little sideways as he always did.
‘Whoa, lad, whoa there.’ Rachel took firm grip of his lead rein and patted him down the neck. ‘Whoa, baby, whoa.’ She gave the jockey his final instruction and disconnected the rein that connected her to her horse. Rachel allowed her hand to slip down by her side and watched him trot away from her. ‘Bring him back safe,’ she whispered as part of her pre-race ritual. A little prayer she always said.
Rachel nodded to some of the other owners and moved away from the crowds to watch the race in greater privacy. She wondered what was keeping Kenny, but if she was honest having him chatting in her ear during the race was the last thing she wanted. Things between the couple were improving – slowly.
She returned to the saddling box to collect s
ome things she’d left lying around. She was scooping her notebook from the floor at the back when the voice hit her ears. Her blood ran cold and she turned to see Caroline standing in the doorway, blocking her exit. Neither woman spoke. Rachel’s eyes were drawn to a shimmering silver blade in Caroline’s left hand. Rachel’s phone rang out in her pocket before going to voicemail.
‘Where’s Rachel?’ Jessie quizzed Kenny when they’d caught up with him.
‘I don’t know. Dexter is at the start. She should be here by now. They won’t let me back into the saddling area. Trainers only.’
‘Wait here.’ Jessie patted Dylan’s arm and pulled her ID from her pocket to show to whoever needed to allow her access to the area.
‘You can’t come through here,’ the stocky blonde man started to say then stepped aside at the sight of Jessie’s badge. She heard him muttering into his radio as they disappeared around the corner towards the saddling boxes.
Jessie quickly spotted Caroline standing in the entrance to the box at the far end of the row of five. Thankfully the other four were deserted. She gasped at the sight of the knife dangling at her side. Rachel had to be in there. She must be trapped.
‘What do you want?’ Rachel’s words struggled to exit her mouth, almost sticking in her dry, terrified throat.
‘What. Do. I. Want?’ Caroline tapped the long blade against her cheek in time with the words.
Caroline’s slow, deliberate answer sent shivers through Rachel’s whole body. The laughter that followed matched her maniacal demeanour. The saddling boxes were designed to make the horses feel secure but were open enough to prevent them from feeling trapped. But the horses didn’t have a deranged, knife-wielding lunatic standing in their way.