Chris said, ‘I agree. Maybe let her stew for a bit.’
The main office door opened and a figure appeared. Clare looked and took a moment to register who it was. Lyall had forsaken his tweed suit for jeans and a dark green rugby shirt. She thought how much better he looked out of his formal suit and she wondered briefly why he felt the need to dress as he did. He strode up to her, his face creased with worry. ‘I heard about the Audi on the news. It’s the mother’s car, isn’t it? I wondered if something had happened. Thought maybe you’d appreciate an extra pair of hands.’
Clare looked at him. Was this just journalistic opportunism? His face was creased with worry and his concern seemed genuine. But she didn’t have time for him, just now. ‘I don’t think so, Lyall, but thank you—’
‘Boss?’ Sara called, phone in hand.
Clare left Chris to fend off Lyall and went to the phone.
‘Got the phone company on,’ said Sara. ‘Looks like Lisa made another call tonight – same number as before.’
‘Dammit. We can’t trace that number. Can they at least give us a time? Location?’
‘Yep. 8:24 p.m. Call lasted just under four minutes. Best location is St Andrews.’
‘So chances are she made the call either from the house or she drove a couple of streets away to do it.’
‘News is on,’ someone called across the office.
They gathered round the television and watched as a photo of Abi flashed on the screen. The report also showed Paul Sinclair’s photo and said that police were anxious to trace a red Audi A3.
As the report finished, Clare called, ‘I want you all ready to take calls from the control room. Every possible sighting of the Audi is to be followed up.’
Lyall approached, nervously. ‘Is there anything I can do, Inspector?’
What could she ask him to do? She couldn’t deny an extra pair of hands would be useful. And then she remembered Yvette Jackson. ‘There is something, actually, Lyall. Could you trawl back through press reports, please? I’m looking for anything to do with drugs in Fife over the past six months.’
‘Delighted.’ He hurried off to find a spare computer. He really did remind her of Benjy. The real Benjy was probably tearing into one of her cushions right now. Geoff, having walked Benjy, would be on his way home. Or maybe he’d gone back to his sister’s. Back to that dreadful dinner party. Maybe they were all sitting at the scrubbed wooden table right now, lingering over the cheese, Ollie handing out whiskies. Talking about Clare, likely as not.
‘Ach, to hell with the lot of them,’ she said to herself, and went to look for Chris. She found him deep in conversation with Sara. There was definitely something up with these two. But there was no time for that now. ‘Chris, I want a record of Ashley’s mobile calls and texts for the past two weeks. Can you get onto the phone company right now, please? If there’s nothing significant, we’ll let her go for tonight. But we keep tabs on her phone, yeah? She phones or texts someone after she leaves here, I want to know about it straight away. Until further notice, okay?’
‘Yeah, will do.’
Chris went off to contact the phone company. Clare noticed Sara watching him as he went. ‘Sara, do me a favour and keep an eye on Lyall. He’s researching drug-related incidents in the past six months. Just keep checking to see what he’s turned up.’
‘Will do.’
Clare glanced again at Sara. She looked tired. They all were, actually. But they had a missing baby and now a missing mother too. What the hell had been on that note in Abi Mitchell’s pram?
* * *
At two in the morning Clare sent them all home. The night shifts in both Dundee and Fife were out on patrol looking for Lisa’s car, and the phone calls following the news broadcast had dried up.
Chris approached her. ‘Give you a lift, boss?’
‘Can you drop me at the cottage?’
‘Sure. Just let me get my jacket.’
Clare noticed Lyall was still tapping away at a computer. At least it had kept him out of her hair. ‘Call it a night, Lyall. You’ve done enough. Thanks for your help.’
‘Is there a printer connected to this computer?’ he asked. ‘I’ve found a few incidents and typed them up.’
Clare took the mouse and clicked the printer icon. Lyall stood, massaged the back of his neck for a minute then went to collect his prints.
‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s what you’re looking for.’
She thanked him and suggested he start a bit later in the morning. Chris was waiting at the door, jingling the keys in his hand. Clare followed him out to the car.
At Daisy Cottage she saw Geoffrey had put on a couple of lamps and she was glad of the welcoming glow as she walked towards the front door. Benjy, surprised at her late-night return, greeted her enthusiastically. She took a treat from the cupboard and used it to lure him back to his bed. Then she put out the lamps and climbed the stairs. It was cool in the bedroom and she clicked on the electric blanket. She undressed quickly, letting her dress fall to the floor, and climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up around her neck.
The printout from Lyall lay on her bedside table. She wondered idly if there was anything of interest.
She picked it up and began to read.
And then she was wide awake.
Wednesday, 25 September
Chapter 19
A vicious wind had blown up overnight, unsettling Benjy, who had barked intermittently outside Clare’s bedroom door. She had fared little better, sleeping fitfully, as her mind ran over the contents of Lyall’s printouts. It seemed she had only just fallen asleep when the alarm buzzed at six thirty. Outside, the rain drummed against the bedroom window and she lay there, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. Reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp, her hand knocked something to the floor – Lyall’s printout. She picked up her phone to call Tony. Straight to voicemail. She thought about leaving a message but didn’t quite know what to say. How to explain. Instead she texted Chris asking him to be in early.
In the kitchen she flicked on the immersion switch and filled the kettle. Shivering, she pulled her dressing gown round her and took a box of granola from the cupboard. Benjy trotted after her and she opened the back door to let him out into the garden. A gust of cold wind rushed in, making the door to the hall slam behind her with a bang. Summer was most definitely over. Clare closed the back door and waited until she heard Benjy’s bark a few minutes later then opened the door just wide enough for him to squeeze in. He shook himself, spraying her with rain, and sat expectantly at her feet, waiting to be fed.
In the bedroom she dressed quickly and pulled a brush through her hair. Her blue woollen dress from the night before lay on the floor, where she had stepped out of it, and her thoughts returned to the dinner party and that miserable journey back to St Andrews with Geoffrey. Her phone buzzed. Chris. She swiped to read:
What’s up?
She typed back:
Ashley McCann, that’s what!
See you soon.
Then she added:
BTW, did you get those tox results for Yvette Jackson?
The phone buzzed a minute later.
Yes. Bit odd. Not the usual stuff.
Maybe worth running past the drugs guys.
She sent back a thumbs-up in reply and put her phone down to make a pot of coffee. Then an impulse seized her and she sent a quick text to Geoffrey.
So sorry about last night, G.
This case is just awful.
Fancy coming over tonight about 7?
I should be finished by then.
Nothing fancy. Pasta maybe?
C xxx
Minutes later her phone buzzed. A thumbs-up reply. He was coming. He was coming and she would make it up to him. Her heart soared. Maybe today would be a better day.
At the station she found Jim at the front desk with a few of the Dundee lads milling about. There were a couple she didn’t recognise but, frankly, she was glad of the ex
tra help.
‘Any sign of Lisa?’ she asked.
They shook their heads.
‘What about her phone?’
‘Sorry, boss,’ one said. ‘Must be switched off. No sign of the car either,’ he added. ‘It crossed the Tay Road Bridge into Dundee but it’s not pinged any cameras on the main routes out of the city so we think it’s still there.’
‘Check petrol stations, supermarket car parks – anywhere with CCTV,’ she told them. She turned to Jim. ‘Any sign of Chris or Tony?’
He glanced at the wall clock. ‘It’s early for Tony yet. Chris phoned to say he’ll be in shortly. Sara’s going to be late though.’
‘Oh, is she now?’
‘Toothache, I think she said. Managed to get an emergency appointment with the dentist.’
Clare said nothing further but made a mental note to catch up with Sara come hell or high water.
‘Did anyone manage to get hold of Diane at Tech Support last night?’ she asked.
A plain-clothes officer jumped up from the desk he’d been sitting on. ‘Yes, boss. Nothing much, though. Loads of private conversations on Facebook Messenger, all friends asking if they can help. Nothing much in her emails either.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
Another dead end. The front door swung open and Tony strode in.
‘Morning comrades,’ he said, walking straight through and into Clare’s office.
Clare followed him in.
‘This looks serious,’ he said.
‘Any contacts in the drug squad?’ she asked.
Tony took off his outdoor coat and threw it across an empty chair, sending a shower of raindrops over the desk. ‘Por qué?’
‘This,’ Clare said, and thrust Lyall’s printout at him.
He scanned it briefly. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘Here.’ Clare jabbed the paper with her finger. ‘Ashley McCann. Lisa’s sister.’
Tony read. ‘So she did some time for possession and dealing. Not exactly news.’
‘Keep reading – see the co-accused?’
‘Ah. Big Val Docherty.’
‘The very same.’
‘And you think that’s relevant?’
Clare spread her hands. ‘I don’t know, Tony, but there are connections in this case. Connections that bother me. They might just be coincidences but hear me out.’
‘Okay…’
‘So, first of all, we had a drugs death. Two or three weeks back, while I was on holiday. Schoolgirl from Melville College. Chris and I talked to her friends who think she bought the pills somewhere in the town.’
‘Nothing new there.’
‘True, but then the tox results came in and it’s different stuff. Not the usual gear the students and locals pass around.’
‘You think someone’s bringing it in from outside Fife?’
‘Has to be. Now, we know Val’s down in Edinburgh these days. Could be she’s trying to branch out. Move north into Fife, possibly even as far up as Dundee.’
‘And you’re thinking it’s Ashley who’s selling? For Val?’
Clare pulled out a seat and sat down opposite Tony. ‘I’ve been turning it over all night. Try this: Val supplies Ashley, who starts selling in St Andrews. Our schoolgirl…’
‘Yvette?’
‘Yeah, that’s her. Yvette buys from Ashley, somewhere in town and, for whatever reason, reacts badly and dies.’
Tony sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. ‘I still don’t see what Yvette’s death has to do with the baby abduction.’
‘Think, Tony! Where does Kevin Mitchell work?’
‘You think he’s the link?’
Clare shrugged. ‘He could be. And if he’s connected somehow to the supply of drugs around the town, and he’s stepped on someone’s toes, maybe Abi’s been taken to warn him off.’
‘So you think Val supplies Ashley and Ashley supplies Kevin?’
Clare frowned. ‘Not exactly. The girls we spoke to – Yvette’s friends – they said she bought the drugs somewhere in town. They swore blind there are no drugs at the school.’
‘They could be lying…’
‘Yeah, they could, but I didn’t get that impression. It’s maybe more tenuous than that. Could be Kevin gets chatting to some of the girls, drops a hint, tells them where to find Ashley. And she gives him a few quid for his trouble.’
‘That would explain where the Mitchells’ extra cash was coming from.’
‘Exactly,’ Clare said. ‘Now, if Ashley is muscling in on someone else’s patch, maybe Abi’s been taken to scare Ashley off? Stop her dealing in the area.’
‘You tried leaning on Ashley?’
‘Not about the drugs.’ Clare hesitated. She didn’t want to bring up the note Lisa had found in Abi’s pram. No point in reminding Tony she’d slipped up. ‘But we’ll bring her in again. Meantime, there’s something else…’
‘Go on.’
‘The girl who died, Yvette. Not only was she a pupil at Kevin’s school, she was a customer at the tanning salon as well.’
‘The one Lisa Mitchell worked at?’
‘Yep.’
Tony lifted the phone. ‘I’ll get someone from drugs to come over.’
* * *
In the outer office, Sara had arrived and was chatting with Chris. Clare watched them for a minute. Chris had put his hand on Sara’s arm but she shrugged it off. They weren’t arguing exactly, but they didn’t look happy either. And, in the middle of a major investigation, Clare couldn’t afford to have two of her team with their minds elsewhere.
‘How are your teeth?’
Sara seemed distracted for a minute, then she said, ‘I had a filling.’
‘Too many sweets, eh?’ Clare said.
‘Yeah, probably.’
Chris shifted on his feet and glanced at Clare. Obviously waiting for her to go. To hell with that.
She said to Sara, ‘Spare me a minute?’
Clare turned on her heel and motioned for Sara to follow her. She flicked on the light in one of the small interview rooms and held open the door, closing it behind Sara. She indicated a seat and, when Sara hesitated, she smiled and softened her tone. ‘Please sit, Sara. I think we should talk.’
Sara did as she was told and began fiddling with a strand of hair that had come loose from her normally tight bun.
Clare pulled out a chair and sat opposite. ‘Sara – I think there’s something wrong. I have an idea what it might be but, before I go any further, I want you to know that, whatever it is, I’m here to help and support you.’ She smiled then said, ‘I’m your boss, Sara, but I hope we’re friends too.’
Sara made no reply and continued fiddling with her hair.
‘Okay,’ Clare went on. ‘How about this – I’ll tell you what I think and you can let me know if I’m wrong.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I think maybe you were at the doctor’s this morning. Would I be right?’
Sara’s eyes were brimming with tears.
Clare put a hand over Sara’s. ‘I’m so sorry to pry but I do have a duty of care towards you. This case is putting a strain on everyone. But – if you are pregnant – there are some things I need to make clear to you. Things that are important, that you should know… if you are.’
The tears were coursing down her face now. Clare pulled a tissue from a box on the table and handed it to her. Sara blew her nose and dabbed her eyes.
‘Sara, if you are expecting a baby, it’s lovely news. But I do need to take heed of that and ensure your duties are adjusted accordingly.’
Sara gave Clare a tearful smile. ‘It wasn’t meant to happen. I don’t know how it did…’
‘I’d imagine it was the usual way!’ Clare squeezed her arm and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘And it can be the best news in the world. If you want it. There are other options, of course, and it’s not for me to comment…’
Sara shook her head vehemently. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘And Chris?�
� Clare asked. ‘How does he feel about it?’
The girl’s head dropped. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
‘I’m guessing he’s not so keen,’ Clare said.
Sara shook her head. ‘He thinks it’s bad timing. But that’s not the baby’s fault, is it?’
Clare didn’t answer this. Instead, she said, ‘How far along are you?’
‘Almost eight weeks.’
‘And feeling pretty grotty, I’m guessing, from the look of you over the past few days?’
‘I have been a bit rough. Sick a few times. Tired, you know. It’s this case. I can’t stop crying…’
Clare sat back and sighed. ‘Sara, I wish I could take you off it but I simply haven’t the manpower. You’ll stay behind a desk, though. No more street work for you.’
‘That’s not fair, Clare. Not when we’re so busy.’
‘No choice. We need to keep you – both of you – in good health. I’ll put you in touch with the force welfare officer.’
Sara rolled her eyes. ‘Elaine Carter! That’s all I need.’
‘You and me both, Sara. But it has to be done.’ She passed the box of tissues across the desk and rose from her chair. ‘I need to get back out there. You take a few moments to compose yourself. Once you feel a bit calmer, could you make a start on checking any CCTV around Dundee, please? Last night, from eight onwards. We need to find that car.’
Sara dabbed her eyes again. ‘Will do, boss.’
Outside, Chris was hovering and made to go into the interview room.
‘Give her a few minutes, Chris,’ said Clare.
‘She’s told you, then?’
‘She has.’
‘Suppose you think I’m a right bastard.’
Clare sighed. ‘Chris, it’s not my opinion that matters. But right now that girl needs your support. Whatever she chooses to do, it has to be her decision. And you need to stand by her.’
Chris’s hand went to his face. ‘It’s such a big thing, Clare. Life-changing.’
In Plain Sight Page 17