by Owen Mullen
‘Battlefield Road.’
‘Good, it’s a place to start. Now, what’s going on with you?’
Adele wasn’t keen to talk about it. ‘Oh, you know. Stuff.’
‘Kind of stuff?’
She put a hand over her mouth; tears weren’t far away. ‘What I told you the other night? I was right. Blair’s having an affair.’
Gavin gave himself a moment before he replied. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘It’s true.’ The next part was harder to say. ‘With Mackenzie. I’m sure of it.’
‘Now you’ve lost me. How can it be with Mackenzie? She’s disappeared.’
‘He didn’t come home last night. This morning when I challenged him, he refused to discuss it. And another thing – he always charged his phone in the kitchen. Hasn’t done that for weeks. Never lets it out of his sight. Keeps it beside him on the arm of the chair when we’re watching television, as if he’s expecting it to ring. Why would anyone suddenly act like that?’
‘Even if he’s having an affair, what makes you think Mackenzie’s involved?’
‘Blair’s always had a soft spot for her. Admits it. What does that mean, exactly? He fancies her. You must’ve seen how he defends her. He’s been distant for weeks. Got so bad even the boys have noticed.’
‘Okay. I agree with some of that, but your conclusion’s way out.’
‘Is it? Sure about that, Gavin? She’s left her husband and Blair’s skulking around.’
‘So why is he still here? Why haven’t they run away?’
Adele had her answer ready. ‘Adam and Richard. He loves them.’
‘Sounds a bit thin to me. Think for a minute. This is Blair Gardiner we’re talking about, the straightest guy I know.’
She pulled herself together. ‘That’s what I thought. Will you help me?’
‘Want me to have a word with him?’
‘No, I want you to follow him.’
He pursed his lips. ‘A bit melodramatic, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe. Except I can’t go on like this. I have to know. So, will you? Or is Mackenzie the only sister you care about?’
* * *
It was blackmail. Emotional blackmail. No others words for it. Adele knew he loved his sisters equally; he’d never given her reason to doubt it. Apart from anything else they were friends. Suggesting otherwise was twisting his arm to get him to do what she wanted. And though it didn’t sit well, he’d recognised the anxiety building in her and agreed. Asking him to follow Blair – a euphemism for spying on him – was a sign of how little trust she had in her husband. Of course an affair might be possible; it happened. But with Mackenzie? No, the Gardiners were just in a rut. Adele was imagining things, taking Blair’s fondness for their sister and making it into something it wasn’t.
The same might be true of Derek. In the aftermath of the man in Buchanan Street and the ugly scene at the party, he’d come home, found his wife wasn’t there and allowed his darkest fears to take over. Adele wasn’t alone in believing Mackenzie was at fault. Monica hadn’t been slow to criticise either. As far as the women were concerned, being Mrs Derek Crawford wasn’t the worst deal in the world. Almost every time they met, Monica commented – with a trace of envy – on the new outfit Mackenzie was wearing; the perks of marrying a guy with too much money who was happy to spend it on the lady he loved.
Crawford was his brother-in-law but, in truth, apart from Mackenzie they had little in common. Derek was a stranger he bumped into now and again. All any of them knew about him was what he’d told them across dinner tables at family gatherings – he sold cars and he was good at it, witness the house in Whitecraigs.
In the beginning, Gavin wasn’t convinced the relationship was good for his sister and not just because of the age difference. Perhaps because he was a self-made man used to making decisions, Crawford seemed determined to be in control, albeit in an attempt to save Mackenzie from her excesses. His life before Mackenzie was rarely mentioned, as if there had been no life. He admitted to being a workaholic and left it there.
Gavin hadn’t responded to his question.
would you know if it was Monica?
He didn’t have an answer.
A parking space opened up for him in Battlefield Avenue, close to the monument commemorating the Battle of Langside in 1586. Mary, Queen of Scots had come away with nothing that day. Gavin hoped he’d have better luck.
At the end of the street he stopped. Left or right, he wasn’t sure? On a whim he turned right. Fifty yards along, he saw a sign saying DONALDSON AND DREW, DENTAL PRACTICE; he’d found it. The woman behind the reception desk looked up and smiled. The Karen that Gavin recalled was in her early twenties, wore too much makeup and stared at him whenever he came into the room. This wasn’t her. The hair was darker, swept up in a bun; there was a ring on her finger and even sitting down he could tell she was pregnant.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Don’t remember me, do you?’
Her eyes narrowed, studying him. ‘Should I?’
He held out his hand. ‘Gavin Darroch, Mackenzie’s brother.’
Karen smiled. ‘Of course. How are you?’
The accent was east coast: Kirkcaldy, Pittenweem, somewhere like that.
‘Fine. I’m fine.’
‘And Mackenzie? Haven’t seen her for ages.’
His question had been answered before he’d asked it.
‘You haven’t seen her?’
‘Not since she started going out with that guy…what was his name?’
‘You mean Derek?’
‘That’s him. Hope she ditched him.’
‘As a matter of fact she didn’t. They got married.’
Her expression soured. ‘Don’t tell me that, though I’m not surprised. She thought she’d discovered Mr Right. Mr Always-Got-To-Be-Right we called him.’
‘I take it you didn’t like him.’
‘None of us did. Sounds bitchy but the feeling was mutual, I assure you.’’
‘How do you mean?’
She thought about it. ‘Well, for starters he was too old for her. More like her father than her boyfriend. After she met him we saw less and less of her.’
‘Yeah, but that’s normal when people get serious about each other, isn’t it?’
She shook her head and absently rearranged papers on the desk. ‘He turned her against us.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘We were a “bad influence”.’
‘And were you?’
She took the question seriously. ‘We were young and stupid, so I suppose sometimes maybe we were. But that wasn’t why he put the mix in.’
‘Why did he?’
‘Didn’t like her having friends. Saw us as a threat.’
‘A threat? What kind of a threat?’
‘He wanted her all to himself.’
Gavin offered an alternative view. ‘Did anybody consider the poor guy felt embarrassed? That the age difference was easier for him to deal with without a bunch of young women around?’
Before Karen could reply a man with a swollen jaw asked for an emergency appointment. She entered his details in the computer, told him to take a seat and picked up the conversation again. ‘Has something happened to Mackenzie?’
The directness fazed him and he was momentarily flustered. ‘No, of course not.’
But it wasn’t the truth and a knot of anxiety balled in his stomach.
‘Then why’re you asking about this?’
If a lie had come to his lips he would’ve told it. It didn’t, so he settled for the truth.
‘Mackenzie’s left Derek. We’re trying to find her. I’d an idea she might be with a friend.’
Karen was clearly delighted. ‘She’s left him? Good girl. Everybody’ll be pleased to hear that.’
‘Are the others still around?’
‘Sure, we hook up all the time.’
‘Is there a chance she’s with one them.’
‘No, I’
d have heard. We would’ve had a party for her.’
Karen took a card, wrote her phone number on it and handed it to him.
‘When she turns up give her this. If she needs somewhere to stay we’ve got a spare room.’ She ran a hand over her swollen belly. ‘Though tell her to be quick, the offer closes in four months.’
* * *
On his way to the car it started to rain and he quickened his step. Derek had a habit of winding people up. Mr Always-Got-To-Be-Right: the nickname suited him. But he deserved credit. Their sister could be a heavy number to handle; they’d seen it at the party. Karen didn’t like him any better than he’d liked her or her friends and when Mackenzie dropped out of their tight little circle, they’d resented it. Hearing the relationship hadn’t worked out confirmed her opinion that Mackenzie had made a mistake. But they hadn’t seen her. She hadn’t gone to them, leaving him back where he started.
By the time he got to the Peugeot the rain was heavy. Gavin got behind the wheel, switched on the wipers and eased away. Adele’s idea of hiring a private detective to follow Blair had sounded crazy. Maybe that’s what it would take to find Mackenzie.
At the junction, he joined the traffic on Battlefield Road and headed towards the city. Karen had been a long shot. No surprise it hadn’t paid off. Okay, so what did that leave? Going to the police crossed his mind except this was Mackenzie they were dealing with; impulsive and unpredictable. Irrational might be a better word. It would be just like her to show up tomorrow, hungover and full of apologies, begging for another chance the same as she’d done most of her life.
On Pollokshaws Road a Skoda cut in front of him. He blasted the horn and swore. The driver blasted back and gave him the finger and Gavin realised he hadn’t been concentrating. Frustration boiled in him. He hammered his fist on the steering wheel. ‘Fucking hell, Mackenzie! You should’ve spoken to me, why the hell didn’t you?’
Not all the anger was directed at his sister. Some of it, most of it maybe, was about himself. He’d known how upset she’d been at Adele’s stupid bloody party and still let her leave alone. Blair was the only one who’d seen the pain she was in. The only one of them with a shred of decency.
Blair! The guy Adele wanted him to spy on.
Gavin was ashamed.
Cathcart Police Station appeared on Aikenhead Road and the decision about what to do now was taken for him. He bumped the SUV onto the pavement and went inside. The desk sergeant was grey and balding with hooded eyes that had seen everything there was to see and disapproved of most of it. Gavin cleared his throat. ‘I want to report a missing person.’
The sergeant lifted a pen, ready to take down the details when a voice behind him said, ‘It’s all right, Harry. I’ll handle this one.’
The face was familiar. For a moment, Gavin couldn’t place it. Then he realised it was a guy from the five-a-sides. ‘Andrew! Haven’t seen you in ages.’
They shook hands.
‘Given up the football?’
DS Andrew Geddes grimaced. ‘Gave it up before it gave me up. Got sick of teenagers running rings round me.’
Gavin was at that stage himself. ‘Depressing, isn’t it?’
Geddes spoke over his shoulder. ‘Harry’s old school. Needs a dozen forms filled in before he’ll answer the phone. Hates it when I stick my neb in. Winding him up’s a perk of the job. Not many of those, trust me.’
‘Didn’t realise you were a policeman. You never said.’
‘Like to keep it dark. Be surprised how it changes peoples’ opinion. Going for a fifty-fifty ball it’s better they know sod all about me. C’mon, let’s find somewhere to talk.’
They walked down a corridor and into a room. Apart from a table and two chairs it was empty. Geddes said, ‘I overheard “missing person”. Tell me about it.’
‘Don’t honestly know if I should even be here.’
‘Let’s hear it and we’ll see.’
‘My sister disappeared more than four days ago. Her husband came home and she wasn’t there.’
Geddes interrupted. ‘First question: why’re you here instead of him?’
‘Derek doesn’t want to know. Says he’s done with her.’
‘Is there another man?’
‘Yes. Somebody called Alec.’
The DS nodded. ‘In the bad old days women stuck it out. No choice, they’d made their bed. Happy didn’t come into it. Not now. But, if the husband – Derek, is that right? – if he’s correct, it isn’t a police matter. Running out on a marriage isn’t a crime, otherwise we’d all be in jail.’
‘Then there’s nothing you can do?’
‘We’ll see. When someone’s reported missing they’re put into a category – high, medium or low, depending on the circumstances. Okay. Start at the beginning.’
Gavin took a deep breath. ‘Eight days ago, at my sister’s birthday party, Mackenzie caused a scene and stormed out. She’s got a problem with drink. The family thinks she’s an alcoholic.’
‘Somebody you don’t like who drinks as much as you do, or the real thing?’
‘It’s real, all right. Mackenzie’s thirty-one. She’s been in trouble with booze since she was a teenager. Derek helped her through it. Adele knows more about it than me. Every other week Mackenzie phoned her smashed out of her head, crying, coming out with all kinds of stories. The next day she couldn’t remember speaking to her.’
‘Called a blackout. Not a good sign.’
‘I know. Mackenzie left the party early. When Derek got home she went for him. Had a huge row. The worst ever. The next morning he heard her arranging to meet this Alec character. Naturally, he was ready to call it quits. Mackenzie beat him to it. Three days later, she was gone.’
Geddes wasn’t hearing anything to persuade him the police had a role to play. Other peoples’ relationships were a foreign country. A bloody mystery. Experience had soured him. His marriage to Elspeth had been a disaster he still hadn’t recovered from, financially or emotionally.
‘And he’s heard nothing since?’
‘Not a word. I called her mobile. It’s unobtainable. Guess she isn’t ready to talk to anybody.’
‘Does he know the guy?’
‘No. Mackenzie stopped drinking and started going out at night by herself. Not the first time she’d done that, apparently. Refused to tell him where or who she was meeting. He followed her and saw her getting into a car.’
The policeman was blunt: this was a waste of time. ‘Of course you’re concerned, this is your sister were talking about, though it’s hard not to think he’s better shot of her.’
Hearing the DS say it out loud it sounded like that to Gavin, too.
Geddes took a notebook from his inside pocket. ‘Give me her full name and I’ll add her to the register. Can’t justify making it a high category. Even medium’s pushing it. Have to be low.’
He clicked a pen into action. Gavin gave the information he’d asked for. ‘Mackenzie Crawford. Her husband’s Derek Crawford. Crawford Cars?’
The policeman leaned back in his chair. ‘Really? Bought a Passat from them fifteen years ago.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing. Most reliable car I ever had. Where do they live?’
‘Whitecraigs’
Geddes raised an eyebrow. ‘Nice neighbourhood.’ He remembered Elspeth and her vampire lawyer and smiled at some private joke. ‘Clean him out, did she?’
‘No, as a matter of fact she didn’t take anything.’
The policeman hesitated. ‘When you say she didn’t take anything…’
‘I mean anything, Andrew. Her clothes are in the wardrobes. Credit cards haven’t been used.’
Geddes’ expression hardened. No football jokes now. ‘And you’ve waited this long to report it?’
Gavin defended the delay. ‘We were expecting her to contact us. You don’t know Mackenzie like we do. My wife calls her a drama queen. She reacts first and thinks later, always has. When she’s drinking every other word that c
omes out of her mouth is a lie. She invented a stalker to cover up her affair.’
DS Geddes sat forward. ‘Stalker?’
‘Yes. They were in town. A man waved to her in Buchanan Street. Derek saw him. Mackenzie claimed he been following her. He didn’t believe her.’
‘And was this the only time she talked about being stalked?’
‘She told Adele as well.’
‘What was her reaction?’
‘She didn’t believe her, either.’
‘So none of you thought she was telling the truth?’
‘It was difficult. She was drunk. And she admitted the man was her lover.’
‘When was this?’
Suddenly, Gavin’s throat was dry. ‘Not sure when she spoke to Adele but the rest of it happened the day of the party. A week ago.’
Geddes eyes bored into him.
‘Are you saying…she might’ve been telling the truth?’
The detective stood. ‘I’m saying your sister just moved up a couple of categories.’
Day Nine
The Baxter House
Lowther Hills
The decision to fight back wasn’t born out of courage. It came from the need to keep believing Derek would rescue her. Otherwise –
Mackenzie didn’t pursue the thought; she’d been there, it wouldn’t take her anywhere good. But so long as there was breath in her body she wouldn’t let the stalker win. He imagined he was the master of the situation, expecting her to cower before him, begging for her life.
She wouldn’t oblige.
The bottled water and the few toiletries he’d brought were against the wall. Mackenzie washed her hands and face and brushed her teeth, hearing the chain rattle with every movement. Her hair was a mess – not that it mattered. She ran a hand through it then lifted the coffee cups and sandwich wrappers, stripped the bed and re-made it, shaking her head at the insanity of the prisoner tidying the dungeon. Lastly, she used her hands to scoop up the trampled food and put it down the toilet. Ridiculous though it was, the effort made her feel better and her will to survive returned.
The car door slamming had become the only sound from the world outside. He came down the stairs carrying two plastic bags with Tesco printed on the side. Letting her starve wasn’t the plan. She got to her feet and stood in the centre of the room, ready, determined to have the first of it, speaking with a confidence that wasn’t real. ‘I know this is about money. I demand you tell me what’s going on. When is my husband coming for me? He’ll pay you.’