In Plain Sight

by In Plain Sight (epub)

‘Are you still taking drugs, Susan?’

  Susan shook her head. ‘Nope. Clean six months now. No way would I go back to that life.’ She moistened her lips. ‘He tried, you know, Ronnie. Came round. Said he missed seeing me. Left me a little pack of pills. Goodwill gesture, he said.’

  Clare felt the anger rising within her. Dealers like Ronnie, trading in human misery. She clenched her fists under the table.

  Amy asked, ‘What did you do with the pills, Susan?’

  Susan looked her straight in the eye. ‘I put them on the bookcase. Next to the telly. Two whole days I kept them. Wanted to see if I could do it, you see. I knew there was no point in me trying to get Paige back if I started on the drugs again. So I left them there, looking at them. I even picked them up. Put one to my mouth. And I could so easily have swallowed it. I’d have taken one and it would have been brilliant again. Like the first time. And I’d have been right back where Ronnie Tennant wanted me.’

  She reached for the water again and drained the cup this time.

  ‘After two days, I knew I’d never go back,’ she said. ‘So I flushed them down the loo. They were gone, and I was free. That afternoon I went out and bought paint for Paige’s room.’

  Clare put down her pen. She marvelled at the strength Susan had shown. Would she have been as strong in Susan’s shoes? She wasn’t sure.

  She pushed back her chair and stood. ‘Susan, I think we’ll take a break. I’ll get you a cup of tea.’

  Susan nodded and sat back. Clare noticed Susan’s hands were shaking and she left her to compose herself.

  * * *

  Jim was at the front desk.

  ‘Any sign of Ronnie’s car?’ Clare asked.

  Jim shook his head. ‘Nothing yet. Tony’s called in extra cars from all over Fife. They’re combing the area now.’

  ‘Good. I’ll ask him to put descriptions and photos out to the media. If Susan’s statement stacks up, we should have enough to nail Ronnie Tennant.’

  Amy appeared at Clare’s side with a cup of tea. ‘Here you go.’

  Clare took the cup with a nod of thanks.

  ‘Clare…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’d like to get the ball rolling on what Susan’s told us. Start searching those shops and houses.’

  ‘Can it wait until we have Ronnie safely in custody?’

  Amy frowned. ‘It’s tricky. If the word goes out that he’s been picked up, evidence might end up down the toilet. Susan’s info is great, as far as it goes, but it’s only her word against his. We need the actual stuff to secure a conviction.’

  ‘Don’t forget the Moorov Doctrine,’ Clare said.

  Amy stared. ‘The what?’

  ‘Moorov v HM Advocate – 1930s, I think. If you have a series of offences, each with no corroborating witnesses, the similarity in character, circumstances and so on can mean they corroborate each other.’

  Amy looked impressed. ‘So if we have two or more tenants willing to stand up in court to say Ronnie stashes drugs in their homes, they corroborate each other? Even though they’re different offences, witnessed by different people?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  ‘How the hell did you know that, Clare?’

  ‘Used to live with a solicitor,’ Clare said. ‘But that’s another story.’

  ‘The searches, though, Clare,’ Amy said. ‘I’d like to get cracking.’

  Clare sipped her tea, weighing this. ‘Okay. Go for it. But run it past Tony first, yeah?’

  * * *

  The station door opened. Clare looked up and her heart sank. Nicholas Stewart from the protest camp. When he saw Clare, he smiled. Much as Clare wanted to avoid him, she knew now that he was a friend of Geoffrey’s.

  ‘Mr Stewart. How can we help?’

  ‘Ah, Inspector.’ He took her hand and shook it warmly. ‘It was so good to catch up with Geoff the other day. Such a talent.’

  Clare wondered how she could get rid of him without seeming rude. She simply didn’t have time for a protracted chat about Geoffrey’s merits as a sculptor. ‘Actually, Mr Stewart, you have caught us at a busy time…’

  ‘Ah yes. That poor child. I heard on the news her mother was found dead. Such a dreadful thing. Indeed, that’s why I’ve come.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, of course it may be nothing. But Zelda – you may not remember her but she’s one of the ladies from the protest. She paints, you know. Anyway, I suppose you’ve heard we’re vacating the field?’

  Clare was surprised. ‘I hadn’t heard.’

  ‘A court order, I’m afraid,’ Nicholas said. ‘We are a non-violent group so it’s time to give it up.’ He sighed then said, ‘Hopefully we have made our point. The battle is lost, for now, but the fight goes on.’

  Clare’s eye went to her office door. She really needed to speak to Tony before Amy and her colleagues swung into action. She looked round for Sara. Maybe she could palm Nicholas Stewart off on her.

  ‘…she pays to park it up for the winter, you see,’ he was saying. ‘And so she took it to her usual site. But she was later this year, what with the protest, you know.’

  ‘Mr Stewart—’

  ‘Oh, please, Inspector. It’s so important.’

  Clare sighed. ‘Go on then. But I do have someone waiting for me.’

  ‘Then I’ll try to be succinct,’ he said. ‘Zelda takes her campervan every year to a site just outside Leuchars. She pays a nominal rent and leaves it there for the winter. Normally it’s closed to occupants at this time of year but when she parked the van, she realised one of the other vans was still occupied. Zelda thought it was odd because the site doesn’t have a view or anything like that. And certainly no toilets or showers. It’s just a large piece of ground. She went and knocked on the door to say hello, but no one answered. She was sure they were in, but she thought maybe they didn’t want to be disturbed. And then she heard it.’

  ‘Heard what, Mr Stewart?’

  ‘A baby. She heard a baby crying. Of course it’s probably all quite innocent but—’

  ‘Where is this site?’ Clare said.

  He fished in his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. ‘I’ve written down the address and directions. It’s a bit off the beaten track.’

  ‘Don’t go anywhere.’ Clare moved to the front desk where Sara was bent over some paperwork. ‘Sara, can you get me that list of vehicles owned by the Tennants? Now. Run them through the computer and let me know if there’s a campervan among them.’

  Sara looked at Clare. ‘You’ve not found them, have you?’

  ‘Now, please, Sara,’ Clare said. ‘Not a minute to waste.’

  While Sara checked the vehicles Clare went to speak to Tony. ‘We may have found them. Sara’s checking a vehicle registration for me now. If it turns out to be a campervan, I’ll need every officer and vehicle you can lay your hands on.’

  ‘Boss…’ Sara pushed open the door. ‘Got a match. Two-year-old Elddis motorhome.’

  Chapter 30

  Susan heard the commotion and came to the interview room door.

  ‘I’m sorry, Susan,’ Clare said, pulling on her jacket. ‘We need to go out now.’

  ‘Should I come back later?’

  ‘No. Stay put. I want you here where you’re safe.’

  ‘Safe? You found them?’

  ‘Just stay here. Please.’ Clare waved Sara over. ‘Sara, please stay here with Susan. I want to continue her interview in the afternoon but for now she’s better off here.’

  Lyall rose, but Clare waved him away. ‘No, Lyall. This could be risky.’

  ‘Oh, but…’ he began, then he saw Clare’s face.

  ‘The three of you – stay here!’ Clare said.

  Tony spread an Ordnance Survey map out on a desk in the incident room. ‘Where’s this campsite?’

  Clare peered at the map. ‘It’s not an actual campsite. Just a place to park up over the winter, so our protest man said.’ She followed the direct
ions Nicholas Stewart had written down and came to a large area at the end of a track. ‘Here, I think.’

  ‘Do we need to take your eco-warrior with us?’ Tony asked.

  Chris squinted at the map. ‘It’s okay, I know it. Dealers use it. I’ve tailed a few down that track.’

  ‘Okay, then,’ Tony said. ‘Is there another way in?’

  Chris jabbed the map with his finger. ‘There’s a sort of track here, leads to Tentsmuir Forest. If we block that off, we’ll prevent them making a run for it.’

  ‘I’d like aerial support on standby,’ Clare said. ‘If they give us the slip it’ll mean we don’t lose them.’

  ‘Want the ’copter out now?’ Tony asked.

  Clare considered this. ‘Can you get it to the old airbase at Leuchars? That shouldn’t attract attention – it’s still used for exercises. It’ll be no more than a minute from the campervan park if we need it.’

  They piled into cars and headed off towards Leuchars. As they approached the village, Matt and Amy drove on through Leuchars towards St Michael’s Crossroads. Clare had told them to turn right at the crossroads towards Tayport, and follow signs for Tentsmuir. She was glad not to be driving that way herself, recalling a standoff at Mortaine Castle, just off that road, where she had come face-to-face with a gunman. Chris drove on through the narrow, winding streets in Leuchars village until the rows of old RAF houses gave onto fields. The landscape was flat at this point, with only Tentsmuir Forest between the fields and the River Eden.

  Clare surveyed the forest up ahead. ‘There’s not much cover.’

  ‘The camp’s behind those trees,’ Chris said, indicating the start of the forest. ‘They’ll only see us if they have someone on the lookout. And even if they do, Matt and Amy will have the other road covered.’

  The radio crackled, then they heard Matt’s voice saying they had left the main road and were now on the single-track road towards the campsite.

  ‘Park the cars broadside so they can’t make a run for it,’ Clare said.

  ‘Right-o.’

  ‘Radio again when you’re in position. Then we approach the van at the same time, from both sides.’

  ‘Dammit,’ Matt said. ‘Farmer shifting a field of cows up the road. Going to be held up for a few minutes.’

  Clare indicated to Chris to pull in and the cars behind her did likewise. ‘Let us know when you’re on your way again.’

  They sat for a good five minutes, waiting to hear back from Matt. The road, being a dead end, was quiet with just the queue of police cars parked on the verge, waiting for the go-ahead. Clare glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw another car approaching, about half a mile back.

  ‘Who the hell is this?’ she said, but before she could check, Matt radioed to say they were moving again. Clare peered in the mirror but didn’t recognise the car. It was hard to see at a distance but it was maybe a silver Nissan. She tried to remember if she knew anyone who drove one. She hoped fervently that it wasn’t one of Ronnie Tennant’s cars. She didn’t want him with an exit route. Chris pulled away and the cars behind her followed suit. She craned her neck again to look behind, but the silver Nissan was too far away to see the occupants.

  The track opened out onto a clearing with some trees ahead. ‘It’s just behind those trees,’ Chris said.

  Clare radioed that they were in position and Matt replied that they too were in place.

  ‘All right, let’s go.’

  Clare, Chris and a dozen uniformed officers emerged from their cars and walked steadily towards the trees. To the left she could see Matt, Amy and their group heading in from the other end. She felt sick with nerves at what they might find in that campervan. What if it was the wrong van? Thirty officers, a helicopter on standby, all on a hunch of Zelda’s. Who the hell was Zelda anyway?

  She could see the van now, through the trees. There were a few other vans parked up, mostly with covers across the windscreens. But one had no cover. No lights on, but the lack of condensation on the windscreen gave Clare hope that it was occupied. She checked the number plate. It matched the one Sara found registered to Ronnie. Matt and Amy had officers lined up, forming a barrier across their track; Clare’s group did likewise. She turned to check them and saw to her horror that the occupants of the silver Nissan were Lyall and Susan, and that Sara was speeding up behind them in a police car.

  ‘What the hell…’

  But Chris was already advancing on the van.

  Clare glared at Susan and Lyall, waving them back, then followed Chris to the door of the van. Her heart was beating out of her chest now, her mouth as dry as a bone.

  Chris rapped on the door of the van and they moved away, standing one on either side of it.

  No answer.

  He knocked again while a couple of uniforms circled the van, climbing up on the wheels to see in the windows.

  Chris shook his head. ‘Looks like no one’s home.’

  Clare turned to one of the officers who was carrying a crowbar. ‘Open it.’

  The officer moved forward and forced the crowbar between the door and the side panel. It gave with an ear-splitting creak and swung open. Clare was up the steps, eyes everywhere. She moved into the driver’s cab while Chris checked the back.

  ‘There’s a baby here, all right,’ he said, indicating a half-empty pack of nappies.

  Clare was opening cupboards, checking under seats and was about to climb up into the roof space over the front seats when Chris spoke again.

  ‘Clare…’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘This…’

  She looked and saw that Chris had pulled on a pair of forensic gloves and that he now held a bottle in his hand. It was labelled digoxin.

  A shout from outside alerted them and they jumped down the steps. A black BMW stood at the end of the track where it met the road. Vapour was coming out of the exhaust pipe and the passenger door hung open. A red-haired woman was running past the empty police cars towards the BMW, a bundle in her arms.

  Clare’s heart lurched.

  Abi.

  The woman was easily forty or fifty yards ahead and moving fast. The officers were in pursuit, some running for their cars, but it looked as if the woman would reach the BMW before they did.

  ‘Stop her!’ Clare’s voice was strangled. But the woman was almost at the car.

  The BMW revved and a cloud of smoke came out of the exhaust.

  The figure came from nowhere.

  ‘You bastard!’

  Susan Clancy raced towards the woman.

  And then another figure moving. In uniform this time.

  Sara.

  Clare’s instincts kicked in and she sprinted back up the track. Susan was gaining on the woman. The BMW revved its engine. Sara was gaining on Susan and Clare knew she had to stop them. And then the woman – Margo Tennant, surely – turned to face Susan. She held the bundle against her left shoulder.

  Clare saw a flash of steel in Margo’s right hand. Sara saw it too and she leapt on Susan, bringing her down, just short of Margo. But not short enough. Susan lay on the ground, only winded, but there was no mistaking the dark stain spreading from Sara’s uniform.

  Clare looked on in horror but she saw that Margo had turned back and was almost at the car. Shouting to Chris to tend to Sara, she sprinted as though her life depended on it. Her lungs were screaming for air, but she ran on. Margo was tiring but Clare knew she had only seconds to reach her. Amy was on her heels now and the pair leapt simultaneously for Margo. Clare went for her waist, yelling, ‘The baby, Amy. Get the baby.’

  The knife was still in Margo’s hand, but Clare kicked her behind the knees; Margo buckled. Amy dashed the knife from her hand with a well-aimed fist and grabbed the bundle. Abi screamed and screamed and Clare’s spirits rose.

  She was alive. Abi was alive.

  Margo struggled under Clare’s knee, her wrists restrained. There was a roar and a screeching of tyres and the BMW sped away.

  ‘Radio, Tony,’
Clare yelled. ‘We need the ’copter. Black BMW heading west. And get two ambulances here. Fast! Tell them, one adult with a lower abdominal stab wound and a baby with a heart condition.’ She looked back at Margo, still face down on the ground. ‘Margo Tennant, I am arresting you on suspicion of child abduction and attempted murder. You do not have to say anything but…’

  Chris was bent over Sara, weeping. Matt pulled him off and ripped open Sara’s clothes to reveal the wound. He pressed both hands down to stem the bleeding. ‘Stay with me, Sara. Do you hear me? Stay with me.’

  Having cautioned Margo and handed her over to a couple of officers, Clare bent beside Matt and talked to Sara.

  ‘Sorry, boss,’ Sara whispered.

  ‘Shush,’ Clare said. ‘Don’t try and talk. Just stay calm and breathe. The ambulance is on its way.’

  ‘It’s my fault,’ Susan said, her face ashen. ‘I made that journalist take me. She was in the loo – I heard her being sick – so I took my chance. I had to make sure you got them.’

  Matt’s hands were white with pressing down on Sara. Clare took over. She tried frantically to think of things to say, to keep Sara awake.

  ‘We’ve got Abi,’ she said. ‘Can you hear her crying?’

  Sara closed her eyes.

  ‘Sara! Stay awake,’ Clare said. ‘Come on, you’ve got to stay awake now.’

  A siren, distant at first, was coming nearer.

  ‘Hear that?’ Clare said. ‘The ambulance is on its way. Soon have you sorted out.’

  The radio crackled and Matt clicked to take the message.

  ‘It’s a result,’ he said to Sara. ‘They stopped the BMW. Ronnie Tennant made a run for it across a field, but they’ve got him.’

  Sara’s eyes fluttered.

  ‘Good news, isn’t it, Sara?’ Clare said.

  The siren came closer and Matt stood to wave the ambulance over. Within seconds the paramedics were at Sara’s side, ripping open gel dressings which they applied to the wound. Clare stood back to let them do their work and found her legs were suddenly weak. She leaned against a fence post then saw Chris, his face creased with worry.

  ‘Go with her,’ she said, as the paramedics transferred Sara to a stretcher. ‘I’ll follow on when we’ve cleared up here.’