The Viv Fraser Mysteries Box Set 1

by V Clifford

  For Viv, Mand’s turning up was a good thing, because now she wouldn’t feel bad about leaving her mum on her own. ‘Look, Mum, since you’re looking so well you don’t need me to hang around. I’ll come back during the week.’ This ambiguous time frame was one that she usually used. Her mum, who clearly hadn’t heard everything that Viv said, called from the kitchenette, ‘Amanda, give me a hand and lift this tray.’

  Mand, ever dutiful, shot Viv another death stare and obeyed the summons. When she returned, Viv had her hand on the handle of the sitting room door.

  ‘Right, that’s me off then, Mum.’

  ‘I’ve made tea.’

  ‘No thanks. I’m fine, Mum. Got to get back to work.’

  Mand didn’t look up and commenced pouring tea. Viv stepped over to her mum and rubbed her on the shoulders. ‘See you later then.’

  ‘Aye. But how much?’ Her mum shook her head.

  Viv stepped out. But before she reached the top of the stairs Amanda came after her. ‘Mum probably won’t remember to tell you but incase you’re interested . . .’ she looked away. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Viv, utterly gobsmacked, said, ‘Wow, that’s fantastic.’ But seeing the look on Mand’s face she said, ‘isn’t it? I thought . . .’

  Mand’s eyes filled and Viv stepped towards her but she shrank back. ‘I just thought you should know.’ Then she turned and walked back into their mum’s flat.

  Mand’s news was incomprehensible. Viv couldn’t imagine Douglas as a father, as for their white wall-to-wall carpets and leather Corbusier furniture that would have to go. It must have been a mistake otherwise Mand would be delighted. The idea of a baby in the family certainly gave Viv reason to smile but was Mand okay? Was the baby okay? ‘Shit!’

  As she approached her car, thoughts of Manda having a baby were sidelined by the fact that the over-zealous warden from her mum’s building had been out policing, and had slapped a white sticker telling her she’d parked irresponsibly, on the driver’s side of the windscreen. Viv scrabbled about in her glove compartment for an ice scraper. It took a good dose of screenwash and ten minutes’ elbow grease to get it off. Viv cursed under her breath. ‘That woman hasn’t got enough to do.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Distracted by both the baby and sticker business, Viv took a left instead of a right at the traffic lights at Haymarket, and since she’d made the mistake she made a snap decision to head to Fettes and find Mac. The sooner he was satisfied with her story the sooner she could move on. Another keen parking attendant at Fettes stopped to look at her as she crawled round looking for a space. Eventually she squeezed the Rav into a tight space knowing she’d need to exit through the passenger door. She watched in her rear view mirror as the attendant hovered at the back of her car. Viv clambered out and all but swaggered over to him. ‘I’m seeing Marconi. DI Marconi.’

  ‘I ken who Marconi is. But he’s not in the building. His car’s no’ here.’

  ‘It doesn’t follow that because his car isn’t here he isn’t in.’ She walked towards the steps and turned. ‘I’ll be back with a permit.’

  This was a shot in the dark but she struck lucky, because Marconi was in. Viv skipped back out to leave the permit inside her windscreen. By the time she returned to reception Marconi was waiting. He was cleanly shaven with a telltale nick on his cheek. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here, Viv.’

  ‘I was just passing and thought it would be better if I gave you the lowdown face to face. But if you’re busy I could come back?’

  ‘No. No. You’re all right. Come through.’ He gestured to a door on the right of reception and they entered the corridor that Red had taken her through a couple of days ago: different room this time. He held the door open and when Viv entered she understood why Mac was so compliant. A man she’d met before stood and stretched out his hand. Viv returned his healthy shake, then shot Mac a ‘what the hell?’ look before turning back to the man in tweed.

  It would have been easy to assume from the man’s ruddy complexion that he was an alcoholic, but this simply demonstrated his Celtic warrior genes.

  Viv eyeballed him and with her sweetest smile said, ‘Nice to see you again . . . I’ve forgotten your name.’

  The ruddy man smiled at this. There had never been a formal introduction at their previous meetings. He knew Viv’s name but she only knew him as the man in tweed.

  Viv tried again. ‘This is a coincidence. Mr . . . ?’

  At this he responded, ‘Isn’t it? A very happy coincidence for me.’

  This had Viv on alert. ‘Oh no. Not another proposal?’

  ‘I hear you’re still in the journalism game.’

  She’d forgotten about his accent and how easily the Invernesian lilt in his voice could lull her into a false sense of security. She reminded herself that that was his job. Whatever he said always had a dual purpose. He might look like Santa, but Santa he was not.

  ‘Yes, I’m still at that “game”, as you call it.’

  ‘I’ll come straight to the point, Viv. We need your help. ’

  She interrupted him. ‘And who exactly might “we” be? You see that’s what I’ve never been clear about. And as you know I’m a woman who likes clarity.’

  ‘We’ve noticed that, but you’re also a woman who likes a challenge and we could help you with this – call it mutuality.’

  He pointed to a seat on the opposite side of a large table, but she waited until he sat down before pulling out a chair. She sighed and shot Mac a dagger, which he ignored.

  Ruddy clasped his hands together on top of the light wood table, and said, ‘We’ve been keeping an eye on you.’

  At this she swiveled and fired another dagger at Mac. Who didn’t bite, just continued twiddling the pen in his hand and looking straight ahead as if she wasn’t anticipating a response.

  Ruddy continued. ‘You wouldn’t expect it to be otherwise, so no need to feign surprise. Now, what would we need to do to get you on board?’

  Viv smiled. ‘If this is to do with one of my clients, you already know my answer.’

  He took in a deep breath. ‘I understand.’

  When he didn’t elaborate, Viv continued. ‘I thought we’d been through this? I’ve got a moral obligation to my clients. I’m not willing to breach that at . . . any price.’ Her slight hesitation let her down.

  ‘Are you sure it’s at any price?’

  Viv mulled this over. ‘You know that I don’t have anyone that I’m particularly close to.’ Then she hesitated. ‘Apart from my mum and my . . . sister.’ She might not be Mand’s best friend but she was still family and now there was a baby on the way. Ruddy’s expression didn’t change. ‘There’s a very small thing that,’ he paused, ‘I think you might help us with if you . . . ’

  Viv put her hand up. ‘Don’t!’

  He continued. ‘He’s got to be stopped and you could be crucial.’

  ‘I can’t stand this cryptic stuff. Who’s “he” and what’s he done that you think would make me change my mind about my contract with my clients?’ Viv really didn’t want to go to the place that she imagined he was about to ask her to.

  ‘One of your clients is endangering the lives of children and he’s just about to be transferred abroad to stop the stink. But his intentions won’t change just because he’s in Aus . . . ’

  Viv’s eyes widened. She knew that they wouldn’t name him if they weren’t sure. They could only mean Ralph. She recalled his vast intimidating bulk looming over that tiny woman at the book launch. Also, her last visit, his wet hair dripping all over the floor while he chatted about nothing in particular.

  ‘Are you sure? I know he’s a letch but what exactly has he done or is he doing?’

  ‘You know he has a child with a rare genetic disorder?’

  ‘No, I didn’t know that.’ She couldn’t believe that over the years neither Ralph nor Lucy had mentioned a disabled child.

  ‘Well for the last decade he’s been experimenting.’<
br />
  ‘How many?’

  A confused look crossed Ruddy’s face. ‘Do you mean how many has he killed or how many has he experimented on?’

  Viv shuddered. ‘What exactly would you need me to do?’

  Ruddy glanced at Mac and almost smiled. ‘His “research” isn’t on any computer that we’ve accessed in the hospital so he must have one at home which he uses specifically for this. Are you with us?’

  Viv looked at Mac. ‘Looks like it.’

  Ruddy pushed back his chair, came round the desk and perched on its edge. ‘Excellent. He’s away at the moment at a conference so we’d like you to go in and have a look around.’

  Viv raised her eyebrows. ‘There is the small matter of a wife called Lucy who isn’t going with him.’

  She remembered the laptop lying at the end of Ralph’s kitchen table. How close she had been to taking a peek but, unusually for her, discretion had kicked in. She knew it’d be easy to get back in. ‘I’ll say I’ve mislaid my scissors.’

  Ruddy was about to object when Viv continued, ‘They’re not just any old scissors. They cost me nearly four hundred quid and have my signature on them.’

  He raised his ample eyebrows at this, but nodded. ‘Okay, that’ll get you in.’

  ‘Lucy will let me wander and poke about. Presumably she doesn’t know?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t, but he’ll have made it clear to her that whatever he’s been working on is precious and not to be disturbed . . . We trust you to find a way to copy his files.’

  Viv stood, walked to the window and crossed her arms and stared down into the car park. ‘What are the chances of his computer, whether laptop or not, being accessible to me? He’s not stupid. He’ll have the stuff on a USB and taken it with him.’

  ‘Marcus here said that you have creative skills in the technology department, one of the Digirati I believe.’

  Viv shot Mac a look that said, how could you? She did not respond to Ruddy’s comment, but said, ‘Here was I thinking I’d just update Mac on a missing person that’s turned out to be a false alarm.’

  Mac smiled. ‘Speaking of which, Sandra said that your MisPer had a tattoo.’

  ‘Yes, still does, I imagine.’

  ‘Well, ours doesn’t, it washed off. Must have been henna or a transfer.’

  ‘How’s that going?’ Viv caught Ruddy looking at his watch and said, ‘I guess you’ve got bigger fish to fry, but Mac and I could do with a catch-up.’ Ruddy stretched out his hand again and she took it and said, ‘God, I hope this is worth it.’

  ‘Trust me, it is.’

  Once he had closed the door behind him Viv put her hands up in a question to Mac.

  ‘I didn’t know he was coming here today and for that matter I didn’t know that you were either, Viv.’

  ‘Great! Two birds and all that. What exactly am I getting into, Mac? Is there more to this than he’s said?’

  His hesitation told her all she needed to know.

  ‘Okay. There’s not much more to tell you about Aberdeen. Incest. Says it all. But how about this? The sod that bashed my head? He’s out and about and they said it was his word against mine.’

  Mac rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, a gesture that she was now familiar with. ‘And it is, Viv. What else can I do? I think they’ll, as a courtesy, let me know about Tessa Grant but they haven’t yet.’

  She shook her head. No point in fighting a battle that she couldn’t win. ‘Right. I’ll make contact with Dr Mrs Mullan then.’

  ‘No, wait. I have a mobile phone and some tools to give you. He’s clever.’

  Viv wasn’t sure who he meant at first. ‘Mullan, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. It goes without saying that . . . ’ He was about to name the man in tweed but smiled. ‘Nearly, Viv. Nearly. Not knowing is for your own good. Follow me.’

  ‘This is all a wee bit Alistair MacLean for me.’ She skipped to keep up with him as he strode down the corridor to the front desk, then across the foyer to another corridor. Mac punched in a code on a panel by the door. Restricted access, then. No carpets, another sign that the ‘public’ were not invited here. At the far end of the corridor they descended a set of steps into a secure underground area with passageways branching out in all directions. Mac turned. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’

  Viv continued to trot to keep up with his long stride and nodded. ‘Sure is.’ Then more to herself she whispered, ‘My dad never brought me down here.’ Mac was too far ahead to catch it. They arrived at a metal door – to its right, a receiver with another key-pad. Mac picked up the handset and spoke into it. Viv thought he’d said “Gold Finger” and sniggered but was impressed when the door slid back and they entered a buzzing techie area. She’d never have imagined this hive of activity in a million years, but now that she was there she understood that it should be like this. Intelligence had to be collected and stored somewhere.

  Her belly rumbled and Mac turned. ‘Hungry? I can have something sent down from the canteen.’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ll get something when I get home.’

  There was nothing at home, but she’d had Fettes food before and it had little to recommend it. Besides she was intent on taking in what was going on around her. She didn’t need food distractions.

  But after a few minutes of passing monitors the idea of a decent lunch at Bella’s seeded itself, and her tetchiness began to take root.

  ‘Will this take much longer?’

  ‘No. Here.’ They’d reached a huge double door, which Mac opened by keying in a number. He stretched up to a high shelf and retrieved a black pack, like a slim toilet bag. ’Everything you need is in there.’ He pointed at the bag. ‘If not ring me on number one on this phone.’ He handed her a mobile.

  ‘What. It’s pre-programmed?’

  ‘Yep. Goes straight to my . . .’

  She smiled and interrupted. ‘To your “other line”’. You two have thought of everything. You must have known I wouldn’t take much persuasion.’

  ‘We had a sense that he wasn’t your favourite man anyway.’

  ‘How the hell did you know that?’

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘How long have I been under surveillance?’

  He shrugged. ‘If I knew I wouldn’t tell you. But I’m guessing probably since you took the MI5 test at uni.’

  She heaved a huge sigh. ‘For fuck sake!’ One of the techies looked up from his keyboard and smiled, but with a glance from Mac he immediately returned his attention to his screen. ‘I didn’t follow it up.’

  ‘No, you didn’t, but guess what? They followed you up. Look at it this way, Viv. You were obviously slightly interested and you’ve obviously not done anything that they’re worried about, otherwise they wouldn’t have kept you in their sights.’

  She was incredulous and whispered, ‘But who the frickers are “they”?’

  ‘You’ll work it out. That’s why they want you.’

  Viv grasped the bag to her chest and turned to leave. ‘Right, get me out of this place.’

  Before they reached the stairs, Mac said, ‘Viv, you do realise that you can’t actually be a journo any more?’

  ‘He didn’t say that. What better cover could I have?’

  Mac didn’t answer until they were in reception. ‘You’re possibly right. But be prepared to disappoint Jules.’

  Viv raised her eyebrow, then winked. ‘I haven’t so far.’

  Mac laughed. ‘You are the limit. You know what I mean. Writing for her will be . . .’

  ‘What, Mac? What will it be? Don’t make a mountain . . . ’ She rolled her hand to finish her sentence.

  Mac rested his hands on his hips. ‘Look. I’ve put my head on the block for you.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t have. I can make my own future. You obviously need someone with access, but it needn’t be me. There’s bound to be . . . ’

  ‘Okay. Okay. You are in exactly the position that we need.’

  Viv bowed her hea
d knowingly. ‘So give me a break. Ease off with the pressure.’

  Rain had started lashing against the main glass doors. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ Mac, who hadn’t noticed the weather, looked confused, until she pointed outside. They stood for a minute watching people racing to and from their cars.

  ‘Mac, trust me, I’m a doctor.’

  At least this raised another smile and he nodded. ‘Sure. Keep me in the loop.’

  ‘There is no loop . . . not yet anyway. But if I’ve something to report and you’re the man to hear it, you’ll be the first to know.’

  She ducked out into the rain and bolted for the Rav, taking time to have a look at her mobile before starting up and heading south to the Grassmarket.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Not a single free parking space was to be had after her third round so she dumped the car on a yellow line where she could keep an eye on it from Bella’s. The heart-warming smell of fresh coffee lifted her mood as soon as she opened the door.

  ‘Hey, Doc. You just go ahead and grab your usual seat.’

  Viv’s ‘usual’ seat gave her a terrific view of the east and west entrances into what had once been a medieval market place. She grabbed a paper off the seat and threw it onto the table in front of her. A familiar view of the Forth Bridges stared back at her. It was Lynn’s view. The ESPC was the freebie from the Edinburgh Solicitors Property Centre and as she read through the article on ‘Edinburgh’s Best Views’ she was horrified to realise that Lynn’s flat was on the market. Confused, she checked the address. It was definitely Lynn’s. What could possibly have happened that she would put her home up for sale? She slipped out her phone and tried Lynn’s number but it rang out. No answering machine. That was odd.