What They Knew

by Marion Todd

  ‘Good point, Bill. can you check that too please, Chris?’

  Clare looked round for Jim and found him standing by the door. ‘You said there were a couple of things, Jim…’

  Jim moved further into the room. ‘Aye. Diane’s found another document on Alison’s laptop. It was among her hidden files and it’s password protected too.’

  ‘Can she get into it?’

  ‘She’s trying. It really depends what kind of password Alison used. If it’s just a word or two words, or even a word with a couple of numbers then she could crack it in a matter of days. But if it’s more complex, or long, well that might take more time than we have.’

  ‘Okay, noted, Jim. Is that it?’

  ‘Just one more thing – on Ingrid McKinnie’s WhatsApp.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, first of all that LPS group were talking about a reunion. A get-together in April. Various suggestions of venues, activities, that sort of thing. So we tracked the conversation right back and it was started by someone called Jessica Peters. We then found Jessica had a private conversation going with Ingrid.’

  ‘Okay…’ Clare wondered where Jim was going with this.

  ‘There was lots of chat about what they were doing now, that sort of thing and then it turned to Were they married? Ingrid said she was out of a long-term relationship – lad had gone to Canada – so this Jessica suggests Ingrid tries the dating site – Attracto.’

  Clare was suddenly alert. ‘How did the conversation go?’

  ‘I can print it out, but basically Jessica said why not try Attracto. She’d tried it and had a few good dates. Ingrid said she might and Jessica said to let her know how it went.’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘Okay, Jim. Let me know if Diane gets into that document.’

  Jim said that he would and Clare carried on.

  ‘Pubs – where are we with that, Sara?’

  ‘Been round most of them, boss. One possible sighting of Ingrid but the barmaid wasn’t sure. They had the Zumba class in for their Christmas meal. Pretty busy night for them.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Harvest Moon – pub in South Street.’

  ‘CCTV?’

  ‘Working on it, boss.’

  ‘Sooner rather than later, then.’ She looked round at the faces before her. ‘To be honest, guys, we don’t have much. We’ve two deaths, pretty similar modus operandi. The two women knew each other as children but, other than a school reunion group, they didn’t have any contact – as far as we know. Do we know what they did after they left high school?’

  Nita raised her hand again. ‘Ingrid studied at Edinburgh Uni and Alison at Dundee.’

  ‘Okay, Nita. Any other links?’

  ‘Sorry, boss.’

  ‘Right,’ Clare went on. ‘So the women were at primary school together but St Andrews isn’t a big town so that wouldn’t be unusual. Them both being the same age is, though. That’s quite a coincidence. Any thoughts on that?’

  ‘Someone who knew them from school?’ Chris suggested. ‘Someone they’d rubbed up the wrong way?’

  Clare inclined her head. ‘It’s possible but school spats would be a pretty thin motive for murder, especially so many years later. All the same, it’s unusual, them both being in the same WhatsApp group.’

  ‘Is it worth going round the other members of the group?’ Janey suggested.

  ‘I think so, Janey. Can you, Robbie and Gillian get onto tracking them down please?’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And prioritise Jessica Peters – the one who suggested Ingrid try the dating website.’ Clare looked round the room again. ‘It’s possible the answer does lie in that WhatsApp group but we can’t forget about the Sharps – Miles and Cheryl. There was something going on between Miles and Alison Reid. So let’s check their social media as well. See if either of them were friends with anyone else in the WhatsApp group. Let’s find out where and when they went to school, university – and anything else about them. I want their shoe sizes and what they had for breakfast.’ She glanced round the room again. ‘Everyone clear?’

  There were nods and murmurs of, ‘Yes, boss.’

  And then Clare remembered something else. ‘I nearly forgot – we had another report of shoplifting yesterday – Soldier Blue – shop in Market Street. I’ve already had the press sniffing round so let’s be as visible as we can in the town, for the next week at least. Pop into the shops, show face. If we do have a gang of shoplifters in the area I want them to know we’re onto them. Okay, that’s it, everyone. Keep in touch.’

  There was a general scraping back of chairs and the hum of laptops coming to life. Sara and a few others went to collect their outdoor jackets.

  ‘Quick coffee, before I get onto Glasgow?’ Chris suggested.

  ‘Yeah, bring yours into my office. Something I want you to do.’

  * * *

  ‘Go on, then,’ Chris said, putting his mug down on Clare’s desk and drawing up a chair.

  ‘Well first of all there are a couple of things I need to tell you.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘You remember I was meeting Kathy, yesterday? The receptionist at Crossford Financial?’

  ‘While I was being shouted at by Miles Sharp – yes I remember.’

  ‘Well she told me something interesting.’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘You remember Alison was working from home on the twenty-third?’

  Chris nodded. ‘Yeah. The day Tanya saw the red Mazda?’

  ‘That’s it. Well Kathy said that Cheryl Sharp came storming into Crossford’s office the very same day demanding to see Alison. Kathy told her Alison was out of the office and she stomped off.’

  ‘Any idea what she wanted?’

  ‘Nope. But I intend to find out.’

  Chris picked up his coffee and took a draught. ‘That it?’

  ‘No. Kathy also said she thought Miles had pinched one of Crossford’s clients.’

  ‘Not against the law…’

  ‘No, it’s not. But Alison had a meeting with this client a few weeks before. It was supposed to be for an hour but the client came out after fifteen minutes – not a word to Kathy – marched straight out the front door. A few days later Linda from Sharp and Lafferty told Kathy he was their client now.’

  ‘I’m still not seeing…’

  ‘That’s because I’ve not told you yet. Apparently, Alison said they were better off without him. That the client wanted Alison to do something she considered unethical.’

  Chris sat back, weighing this. ‘So…’ he began slowly, ‘…that would fit with the email from Alison saying it was a seriously bad idea.’

  ‘Exactly. So what I’m thinking is this: client goes to Alison, asks her to do something borderline. Maybe not illegal but Alison’s not keen.’

  ‘Some sort of tax scheme…’ Chris suggested. ‘She is a tax accountant.’

  ‘Yeah, something like that. So client marches out and goes down the road to Sharp and Lafferty. Miles Sharp welcomes him with open arms. He has no such scruples. Alison gets wind that the client has gone to Miles – maybe through Kathy talking to Linda – and she asks to meet him in the car park. Sends a few emails saying it’s a bad idea. Maybe she even threatens to report him to… I dunno, whoever their regulatory body is.’

  ‘Miles loses the nut and kills her?’

  Clare rubbed her chin. ‘As to whether he’d go that far, I’m not sure. It would have to be a huge amount of money for that. So, I’d say probably not. But it could be a factor.’

  ‘Okay, you want to speak to them again?’

  ‘That’s where you come in.’

  ‘Because…? Oh you do not want me to go back there again? You have to be joking, Clare.’

  ‘Look, Chris, I’m thinking Miles Sharp maybe was in Glasgow on the twenty-third. Obviously you’ll check out ANPR cameras and the footage from the pub where he claims he had lunch, but he
’s probably telling the truth.’

  ‘So…’ Chris said slowly, ‘…if it wasn’t Miles who visited Alison that day…’

  ‘…it could have been Cheryl,’ Clare finished. ‘Maybe they swapped cars for some reason – I don’t know. But I want to ask Cheryl face-to-face and see her reaction.’

  Chris shook his head. ‘I still don’t know why you need me.’

  ‘I need you to find out about that client they pinched from Crossford. But I wouldn’t put it past Cheryl to warn Linda against speaking to us. So I want to catch both of them off their guard.’

  ‘We could bring them in here – different times.’

  ‘I don’t want to make it official. Minute we do that, Cheryl will call a solicitor and clam up. So… I was thinking…’

  ‘I’m starting not to like the sound of this…’

  ‘I’m going to try to get an appointment with Cheryl, this morning if I can.’

  ‘What? Like an accountant’s appointment?’

  ‘She is an accountant, Sherlock.’

  ‘Do you actually need an accountant?’

  Clare shrugged. ‘I could have money. You don’t know.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘That’s for me to know and you to wonder, Detective Sergeant.’

  Chris sighed. ‘Okay, where do I come in?’

  ‘As soon as I go into the appointment I want you to swoop in and speak to Linda. I might not have long before the lovely Cheryl chucks me out so you’ll have to be quick. I’ll send a text when I’m heading in. That’s your cue to get in and chat Linda up.’

  ‘Saying what?’

  ‘Ask her directly if she’s taken on any new clients in the last two months. Especially restaurateurs.’

  ‘She’ll just tell me it’s covered under GDPR.’

  ‘And a clever detective would know that our shiny new data protection law doesn’t apply in the case of a criminal investigation.’

  Chris avoided her eye. ‘Well, yeah. I knew that, obviously.’

  ‘So go to it.’

  ‘What if she demands a warrant? She looks the type.’

  ‘Tell her she’s obstructing a murder inquiry.’

  Chris sighed heavily. ‘Go on then.’

  Clare picked up the phone to call Sharp and Lafferty. ‘And, if all else fails,’ she whispered, as she waited for the call to be answered, ‘just flash her your gnashers. Dazzle her into submission.’

  ‘Don’t give up the day job, Inspector.’

  Chapter 25

  Cheryl Sharp agreed to see Ms Mackay when she pleaded her case to Linda. ‘I’m only in town until this afternoon and Mrs Sharp comes highly recommended.’

  ‘Well, you’re in luck, as it happens,’ Linda said, her voice curt. ‘Mrs Sharp has a cancellation at ten thirty this morning. Can you make that?’

  Clare said that she could and at ten twenty-nine she stepped out of the car, leaning back in to Chris. ‘I’ve a text message ready to go. I’ll send it when I’m going in to Cheryl’s office. That’s your cue.’

  Chris looked unconvinced but he agreed to give it his best shot.

  Linda answered the bell, opening the door for Clare. Her face fell when she recognised her. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Sharp has an appointment in a few minutes.’

  ‘I know,’ Clare said, smiling. ‘I’m Ms Mackay.’

  Linda’s lips thinned. ‘If this is simply a pretext…’

  ‘Oh I assure you it’s not,’ Clare said quickly. ‘I really do want some financial advice. And,’ she indicated her surroundings with a hand gesture, ‘I was pretty impressed with the set-up here so I thought, why not.’ She continued to smile. ‘Your reputation precedes you.’

  Linda raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, indicating Clare should take a seat while she buzzed through to Cheryl. Clare sat, phone in hand and, when the door opened and Cheryl appeared, she sent the text message to Chris.

  Cheryl’s face darkened when she saw Clare. ‘I’m sorry, Inspector,’ she said, a hard edge to her voice. ‘If you want to interview me then I will arrange for my solicitor to be present.’

  ‘Oh, no, Mrs Sharp,’ Clare said quickly. ‘I really am seeking your advice in a professional capacity.’ Cheryl stood her ground. Out of the corner of her eye Clare saw Chris emerging from the car and making for the front door. ‘I have a sum of money to invest, you see…’ she said.

  Cheryl raised an eyebrow then turned on her heel. ‘If you’d like to follow me…’

  She held a door open for Clare and led her down a short hall to her office. As the door to the reception area swung closed behind her she heard the front doorbell sound and she hoped Chris would carry it off okay.

  Cheryl’s office was tastefully decorated. Thinking back to the décor in the Buchanan Gardens house, Clare thought this hadn’t been Cheryl’s choice. The whole building had the hand of an interior designer. The carpet was oatmeal in colour, flecked with navy and the walls ochre with raw-silk curtains in cerulean blue. A striking seascape hung on the wall opposite Cheryl’s desk, the blues and greens merging into each other, the water foamy as it bubbled onto silver sand.

  ‘Harris,’ Cheryl said, following Clare’s eye. ‘You been?’

  ‘No. But, seeing that, I think I’d like to.’

  ‘Yeah you should. Not in summer though. Anyway, what’s this about? Do you actually have any money to invest?’

  ‘I do,’ Clare lied. ‘An elderly relative. An aunt,’ she added. ‘A legacy.’ She was starting to think she should have rehearsed this.

  Cheryl fixed her with a steely gaze for a moment then pulled a notepad towards her and picked up a pen. ‘Where is it now?’

  ‘Oh,’ Clare hadn’t thought about this. ‘I… I er don’t have it yet. I don’t think it’s cleared probate.’

  Cheryl put down her pen. ‘We don’t have probate in Scotland, Ms Mackay.’ She emphasised the Ms no doubt to make it clear she was not treating Clare as a police officer. ‘It’s called confirmation up here. I’d have thought the executors would have told you that.’

  Clare smiled. ‘Oh they probably did. I’ve been busy, you know. Anyway, I thought I’d come and see what my options are – once I have the money, obviously.’

  Cheryl picked up the pen again. ‘Are you the sole beneficiary?’

  ‘Erm, no. Other… cousins.’

  ‘Any inheritance tax to pay?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘HMRC monies due?’

  Clare spread her hands. ‘As I said I’m not the executor.’

  ‘And the sum you have inherited?’

  ‘They’ve not been precise about that yet. But it’s in the tens of thousands,’ she said, deciding that sounded a likely amount.

  ‘So, in short, you are expecting a legacy, you don’t know when, you don’t know how much, but you have decided to come here – to an office where you recently carried out inquiries – to ask for investment advice, yes?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  Cheryl put down the pen once more and sat back in her chair. ‘Frankly, Ms Mackay, I don’t believe a word of it. I think you are seeking to obtain information under false pretences.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘I mean, do you even have a recently-deceased aunt?’

  Clare decided to appeal to Cheryl’s ego. ‘Okay, I’m sorry. I am thinking of sorting out my finances, but I don’t actually have a legacy. Not at the moment, anyway. I didn’t think you’d see through me so easily.’

  ‘And you’re the detective?’ Cheryl snapped, her eyes flashing. She rose from her chair. ‘I’d like you to leave now, Inspector Mackay.’

  Clare stayed in her seat. ‘Look, Mrs Sharp, hear me out, please? Just give me two minutes to explain and then, if you still want me to leave, I will.’

  Cheryl sat down again and pushed her chair back. ‘Go on, then.’

  ‘It’s like this: I don’t want to keep bothering Mr Sharp. I think it must be difficult for him, with what’s happened to his ex-wife. So I thought maybe you could help me
.’

  ‘Help you how?’

  ‘Just one question: did you visit Alison Reid at home, two days before Christmas?’

  And, in that second, Clare had her answer. A moment of confusion flashed across Cheryl’s eyes and she ran her tongue round her lips.

  ‘I think you did,’ Clare went on. ‘And that’s fine. I just need to ask what the reason was. And, if it’s not relevant to our investigations, it’ll go no further. I promise.’

  Cheryl still didn’t speak. Clare wondered if she was running through options in her head. Trying to decide how little of the truth she could get away with revealing?

  ‘I…’ she began, then she reached for a bottle of sparkling water and poured some into a glass. She offered the bottle to Clare but Clare shook her head. Cheryl lifted the glass, the water still effervescent, and she sipped at it. Then she replaced it on her desk. ‘Miles – he thinks I don’t know this, but he met her. In December. It was lunchtime and they met in his car.’

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘Simple. I followed him. I knew he was up to something. He’d been shifty all morning. So, when he said he’d be out at lunchtime, I left the office a few minutes ahead of him. I had a taxi waiting and I sat in the cab until he came out. Then I followed him. Told the taxi driver to hang back. He went to the car park beside the Golf Museum. After a few minutes another car drew up alongside him and I saw her get out and get into his car.’

  ‘How long were they in the car for?’

  ‘About twenty minutes, I think.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘She got back into her own car and drove away. Miles sat on for a bit then he went too. I let him leave then told the taxi driver to hang back for a few minutes. By the time I reached the office Miles was already there.’

  ‘And you never asked him why they met?’

  Cheryl shook her head. ‘No. But I reckon she was trying to get him back. He’s a catch, you see, Miles. Worth a bob or two now and he moves in the right circles. We have a nice life, Inspector. I think she missed the lifestyle. So when I knew Miles would be safely out of the way in Glasgow, I took my chance. Her office said she was out seeing clients but it was lunchtime so I thought it was worth checking the house.’