The Loch

by Heather Atkinson

  “Maybe,” said Mike, although he knew differently. “Have you heard about what’s happened at the cottage?”

  “I heard there was some commotion. Someone spotted the police going back.”

  Mike waited for the others to get slightly ahead so he wouldn’t be overheard. “They found the body of Isla’s granddad buried in the cellar.”

  “What?” exclaimed Billy.

  The rest of the group froze and looked round, certain they were going to see him being attacked by the local nutter. When they saw no such thing was happening they carried on their way.

  “Sorry,” said Billy. “That news gave me a shock.”

  “He’s been down there for twenty years.”

  “I remember hearing about him running out on Rhona. You mean to say he’s been under there all that time?”

  “Yeah. He had his head caved in.”

  “God that’s horrible,” he shuddered.

  Mike wondered if Billy could have killed Robert, then dismissed the idea. He would only have been in his early twenties at the time and Rhona would have been in her mid fifties. Still, not out of the realms of possibility. Billy was also strong enough to overpower a man Robert’s size.

  “Keep that to yourself for now, won’t you?” said Mike. “I’m not sure I should have told you seeing how the police have only just found him.”

  “Will do. No doubt soon though it’ll be common knowledge.”

  Mike related his and Wheeler’s theory and eagerly awaited Billy’s opinion. He’d lived here his entire life, he’d have a better idea if it was plausible or not.

  “Well, that’s some theory you’ve got there,” said Billy. “I remember Robert Campbell, he used to scare the crap out of me. He was huge. Not as big as you but not far off. Nasty with it. A man called Alan Parr ran the village shop back then and he used to hate it when Robert came in because he’d always complain about the prices and intimidate him into knocking a bit off his bill. He got into a few rows with the local farmers too and he wasn’t averse to sticking his shotgun in their faces. It doesn’t surprise me that he was hitting poor Rhona, there were rumours about that at the time.”

  “Did you ever hear any rumours that Rhona was having an affair?”

  “No, not that I remember. I couldn’t blame the poor woman if she had but then again, she might have been too terrified of Robert to do that. He had affairs with some of the local women. He was a bastard but he was good-looking and he could be charming when he wanted to be. Maybe Rhona did kill him? She could have battered his head in when he was sleeping and used rope to drag him downstairs and then into the cellar. It wouldn’t be impossible.”

  “Maybe. Or this body is just a coincidence and nothing to do with Isla’s disappearance. He was only found because the police decided to search under the cellar for her and Hannah.”

  “Could be.”

  “I thought this could lead to finding her but if it is nothing to do with her disappearance…” He went abruptly silent when a shrill whistle filled the air.

  “Someone’s found something,” said Billy.

  Theta group took off in the direction of the whistle. Mike was pleased when he pulled ahead of the rest of the pack thanks to his long-legged stride. Only Billy was able to keep up, a few paces behind him, leaving the multi-coloured snobs in their wake.

  They came to a halt when they reached an avenue of cypress and beech trees. Alpha group was gathered together in the centre of the avenue, all staring at the base of one of the trees.

  Mike shoved his way through them, afraid of what he’d see but needing to know at the same time. The multi-coloured coats parted to allow him access. He found the Colonel crouching at the foot of the tree along with Alex, both of them quietly talking.

  “What is it?” demanded Mike. “What have you found?”

  The Colonel pointed to a small sodden bundle at the base of the large beech tree. The sight of the blue wool broke his heart. “It’s Isla’s other mitten,” he rasped.

  Alpha team all took a step back from him.

  “I didn’t put it there,” he told them.

  “Of course not,” said the Colonel.

  “Who found it?”

  “Alex here,” said the Colonel.

  Mike studied him carefully, the close scrutiny forcing Alex to look down at the ground. First he lied about when he last saw Isla, now he just happened to find her mitten in this massive area. It wasn’t a coincidence.

  The police were called. Mike, Billy and the Colonel waited with the mitten for them to arrive while the rest of the group carried on with the search.

  “Oh God, not him again,” said Mike when Stewart came trudging up the track towards them. Stewart was in his shiny town shoes, unsuitable to the terrain and he kept slipping, to Mike’s amusement.

  “Who is he?” said Billy.

  “DI Stewart. A complete dick.”

  “I know the younger one with him, he came to ask me about the last time I saw Isla.”

  “He’s not so bad. Just watch yourself with Stewart, he’ll try to twist everything you say.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Mike,” said Stewart when he eventually reached him. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think? Helping with the search.”

  “I’m Colonel Arundel,” announced the Colonel, asserting his authority. “Can we see your warrant card?”

  Stewart looked put out but produced it all the same. The Colonel took his time scrutinising it, eyes flicking between the photo on the card to Stewart’s face. “Okay, you may enter this area,” he eventually announced. Wheeler, stood beside his superior officer, tried not to laugh.

  “Oh how kind,” said Stewart sarcastically. “So what do we have here?”

  “Isla’s glove,” replied Mike.

  “Who found it?”

  “I did,” said Alex.

  “Ah yes, we’ve already met Mr Shaw,” said Stewart. “Have you seen anyone in the area?”

  Alex and the Colonel shook their heads.

  He turned to Mike and Billy. “Have you seen anyone?”

  “No,” they both replied.

  “Where were you Mike when this find was made?”

  “He was with me,” interjected Billy. “And the rest of Theta group.”

  “What on earth is Theta group?”

  “I’m leading this search,” announced the Colonel grandly. “I divided the search party, which consists of fifty nine people into five groups of ten and one group of nine. I don’t like the uneven number, one more person would have been greatly appreciated,” he announced with a twitch of the moustache. “Each group is covering one section of the forest. We met up at Billy’s café in Strachur and everyone was allotted their group.”

  “This glove looks like it’s not been here long,” said Wheeler. “Whoever left it can’t be far.”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed when Stewart looked his way.

  “Did you meet up with the rest of the search party at Strachur?” Stewart asked him.

  “No. I was on the boat when I saw them and I decided to join in.”

  “What were you doing on the boat?”

  “Killing time because I can’t go in the cottage yet.”

  “And you happened to end up here, just as the search party started out?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s true,” replied Billy.

  “So what have you been doing to find Isla and Hannah?” Mike asked Stewart.

  “Overseeing the professional search.”

  The Colonel took this comment as a personal slight. “You won’t find a better search party than this one, I can assure you,” he announced. “I’ll have you know I’ve scouted for missing troops in the jungles of Borneo while fending off enemy soldiers, wild animals and poisonous insects. And what has your so-called professional search found that we haven’t?”

  “Nothing, so far,” he mumbled.

  In his head Mike cheered on the Colonel as he continue
d to browbeat Stewart. But he was keeping a close eye on Alex, who was keeping pretty quiet. However he’d never been much of a talker. Being married to Phillipa he rarely got the opportunity to speak his own mind.

  “Has anyone touched the glove?” said Stewart, tiring of the Colonel’s ramblings and talking over him.

  “Of course not,” said the Colonel. “I would never allow such a breach of procedure.”

  “Good. Right, you can leave it to us. Thank you for your assistance.”

  Mike, Billy, the Colonel and Alex wandered away together, the rest of the search party having already gone off to continue looking elsewhere.

  “Are you okay?” said the Colonel, placing a firm hand on Mike’s shoulder.

  “I’m just terrified of what’s going to turn up next.”

  “Yes it is peculiar, very peculiar indeed.”

  Mike glanced sideways at Alex. “You’re sure you didn’t see anyone?”

  Alex seemed surprised to be addressed directly. “Er, yeah, I don’t think I did, although I admit I was keeping my attention on the ground.”

  “Where was the rest of your group when you found it?”

  “Scattered about the area the Colonel had marked for us to search.”

  “Was anyone with you at the time?”

  “No. I just walked up to that tree and the glove was just sitting there, so I blew my whistle.”

  “How quickly did the others come?” asked Mike.

  “Quickly enough.”

  “What are you getting at Mike?” said the Colonel. “I hope you’re not accusing us?”

  “Course not,” he replied, gaze fixed on Alex, who kept his head down as he walked.

  Rather than return to the search with Theta group, Mike waited by Stewart’s Insignia for him to come back, which he did twenty minutes later.

  “Can I help you Mike?” he said.

  “Yeah. You need to look closer at Alex Shaw.”

  “Why?”

  “When I asked him about the last time he saw Isla he was shifty and evasive. In fact he downright lied. It was only because of his wife setting him straight that I found out. Then he finds her mitten. Don’t you think it’s weird how he stumbles across it in this huge area when it had only just been placed there?”

  “Tell me, what do your keen deductive skills tell you about his motive?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just a psycho?”

  “Has he ever displayed any psychotic behaviour in the past?”

  “Not that I know of but I’ve not known him very long. Please,” he pressed when Stewart looked doubtful. “It can’t hurt. What if he is guilty and you’ve not checked him out?”

  “Okay Mike, I’ll look into it.”

  “Thank you,” he said genuinely. “I had a dream last night,” he went on, not sure why he was telling this asshole about it. “Isla came back to me. She said she was trapped somewhere and it was getting harder to breathe. Her skin was ice cold.”

  “That must have been very difficult for you.”

  “It was. It got even worse when I woke up and she wasn’t there. What if she is trapped somewhere, slowly suffocating?”

  “It’s more likely it was just a dream. Try not to dwell on it too much.”

  “I can’t help it,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose when tears threatened.

  Stewart shuffled uncomfortably. “Can I give you a lift anywhere?”

  “No thanks, I’ve got the boat.”

  “You can go back to the cottage, the body’s been removed. Excavation of the cellar yielded nothing. Be warned, the press are still hanging around. Try not to threaten them with a shotgun.”

  “That depends on whether they trespass again or not.”

  “You’re sure you’re alright staying in that cottage alone?”

  “Yes. Robert’s body hasn’t changed anything.”

  Stewart didn’t push the issue, he was just relieved he didn’t have to stay in that cottage alone in the dark where someone had been murdered. They were assuming Robert had been killed in the house, although they couldn’t know for sure. Still, it made him shudder. He strongly suspected Mike Miller of dispatching two women but he was forced to admit, he had balls.

  Mike sailed back to the cottage. As he steered the boat towards the jetty he saw two figures fleeing back up the drive. Through the binoculars he recognised them as a couple of journalists. It seemed all the police had packed up and gone.

  After tying the boat to the jetty he returned to the house, backpack over one shoulder, shotgun over the opposite arm as a warning to any other lurking journalists. It was by now late afternoon and already the sun was setting, the wind picking up. He wondered if it would feel any different being inside the cottage knowing a dead body had been buried under it for years but when he walked inside it felt the same. No creepy, icy sensation but that was because Isla’s warm loving presence was still so strong.

  He did his usual checks around the house but once again there was nothing out of place.

  After getting the fire going in the sitting room he settled down with a whisky, wondering if he was going to start getting creeped out now it was practically dark outside but he felt okay. He wondered what Isla would feel about her granddad’s body being found under the house if she came home. He shook his head. When she came home.

  His mind kept slipping back to that dream. It had felt so real, as though she’d been right there next to him and it had been heaven. It had been six days since she’d disappeared and the chance of her coming home safely was now very small. The police hadn’t told him as much but he’d looked it up online.

  To distract himself from such upsetting thoughts he tried calling her brother again, only to be told he was still unreachable.

  “Fucking useless,” he sighed, slamming the phone down. He liked Ross, they’d got on well on the two occasions they’d met. Like Isla he had red hair and green eyes and his build was slight but unlike her he was tall. He’d last seen him four months ago before he’d left to dig somewhere hot and exotic. Isla had said Ross was a big deal in the archaeological world. Would he blame him for her disappearance, just as everyone else seemed to be doing? However he might be able to shed light on what had happened to Robert. He would have been nineteen when he died.

  Mike switched on the television, needing a distraction from his troubling thoughts. He flicked through the channels, coming to a halt when Isla’s image flashed up on the screen. Leaning forward in his seat he turned up the volume.

  “Isla Campbell remains missing and another local woman, Hannah McNair, has also gone missing.” Isla’s image was replaced by her friend’s. “Police are so far refusing to link their disappearance to the murder of Karen Brooks, who was found dead not far from the women’s homes. Karen was a visitor to the area, on holiday from Aberdeen.”

  Mike stared at the screen, horror-struck. He’d never connected Isla’s disappearance to that poor woman Stewart had made him view in the mortuary. Actually, that was a lie. The terrifying thought had danced at the back of his mind once or twice but he’d refused to entertain it until that news report had forced him to confront the possibility.

  Snatching up his phone, he called Stewart.

  “DI Stewart,” said the voice on the other end.

  “It’s me, Mike. I’ve just seen the news. Is there any connection between that woman I saw in the mortuary and Isla’s disappearance?”

  “We’ve found nothing convincing us of that.”

  “You’re sure? You wouldn’t lie to me about something so important, would you?”

  “I’m not working that case personally but from what I’ve heard no, there isn’t a connection.”

  Mike rested a little easier. “Alright, good. Thanks Stewart.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you okay there on your own?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good. I’ll be round to see you in the morning.”

  “Why?”

  “Just to see how you’re doing. Don’t
get defensive.”

  “I’m not getting defensive…”

  But Stewart had hung up.

  The news switched to another story so he flicked through the channels, attempting to find something he could lose himself in. He had the desperate urge to escape reality for a while.

  His hand went straight to the shotgun lying on the couch beside him when there was a loud hammering at the front door. He leapt up and approached the door, brandishing the weapon.

  Before he could ask who was there, a voice yelled, “Open up Mike. I know you’re in there.”

  “Will?” he frowned, lowering his gun and unlocking the door.

  He opened it to be confronted by a shotgun, the barrel aimed straight at his face. Will was on the other end, possessed by such a violent rage he shook with it.

  “Where’s Hannah?” he yelled.

  “Hannah? How should I know?”

  “You did to her what you did to Isla, didn’t you?”

  “Will, I swear I didn’t touch either of them.”

  “Bollocks. You snatched my Hannah when she was alone in the dark, just like Isla was. Did killing her give you a taste for it and you couldn’t resist doing it again, you sick bastard?”

  Will and his gun were practically blocked from Mike’s vision by the black and red that spiked before his eyes caused by Will’s yelling, making it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. “You’ve got to listen to me Will,” said Mike, fighting to retain his calm when Will’s finger tightened on the trigger. “I didn’t touch either of them. Why don’t you come in and we can have a chat over a whisky? We’re in the same boat, we could help each other.”

  Will stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him but he didn’t lower the gun. “Oh I want a chat alright.”

  Mike wondered if he’d ever looked as wild and insane as Will did right then. Probably. Although he was pointing a gun at him, his heart went out to him. “I know exactly how you’re feeling. I’m going through it myself, the not knowing, the torture of constantly wondering where she is. It’s hell.” He knew he was getting through to Will when his eyes flickered and he lowered the weapon slightly. “You feel isolated from the rest of the world but you’re not alone. Someone has got our women and we need to work together to get them back.”