What They Knew

by Marion Todd

  ‘So Jessica turns up,’ Chris said, taking up the thread. ‘Alison asks her in and, when she’s distracted, Jessica slips the Rohypnol into her glass. Half an hour later, when it’s taken effect, she strangles Alison putting pressure on the vagus nerve to make it quicker and easier.’

  ‘And, if she couldn’t get Ruth to join Attracto,’ Nita went on, ‘maybe she used the same trick on her.’

  This was met with silence while they digested this new development.

  Then Janey said, ‘We still don’t know where Jessica Peters is, boss?’

  ‘Well, we think she was in France, at least until recently. The DCI has put in a Europol request to find her and he’s checking with border control, too. If she’s entered the country in the past few weeks we’ll soon know.’ Clare went on. ‘So we now have a triple murder hunt and I don’t have to tell you how important it is we make progress before we’re looking at victim number four.’

  Chris was the first to speak. ‘How do you want to play it, Clare?’

  ‘Well for a start, you and I will interview Donny Cohen as soon as we’ve finished here.’ She looked round the room. ‘Donny Cohen is the man whose photo Stoneman is using,’ she explained. ‘Given how many times his image appears on the internet I doubt he is Stoneman but we do need to rule him out.’

  Chris acknowledged this and Clare went on. ‘So back to basics. Anything from the house-to-house?’

  Janey said, ‘Nothing much, boss. No one noticed anything unusual and no blondes around the times the women were thought to have died.’

  ‘Okay, thanks Janey. So the blondes from the pub CCTV…’ Clare indicated the photos from The Harvest Moon pinned up on the board. ‘Anything from Google?’

  Janey shook her head. ‘One of the photos was too grainy for any results. The others only returned their Facebook photos.’

  Clare nodded. ‘What about the WhatsApp group – how many are blonde, do we know?’

  ‘A few,’ Janey said. ‘But none living in the area, apart from Michelle, the hairdresser.’

  Clare nodded. ‘Okay. I’m going to ask the press office to put out a statement about the murders. No details at this stage, just that we’re linking three recent deaths. But we need to make sure everyone in that WhatsApp group is warned about the danger. They need to know about the murders and to be on their guard. Advise them no visitors, meet no one from school, no activity on dating sites and to phone us immediately if they suspect something’s wrong. And if any of them lives alone, see if they can have someone to stay, at least until we’ve caught our killer.’

  ‘What about Attracto?’ Nita asked.

  ‘I’ve been on to Diane this morning. She’s trying to get it taken offline. We can’t stop messages between members who’ve already made contact but we should be able to stop new folk getting sucked in.’ She glanced down at her notepad. ‘I’ve also asked Diane to check Attracto for anyone who has mentioned a medical background in their profile: doctors, nurses, anyone with a science degree. The average man – or woman – in the street is unlikely to know about the vagus nerve. But our killer does.’

  Jim cleared his throat. ‘Clare, is it possible some of the classmates aren’t in that WhatsApp group?’

  ‘Definitely. Good point, Jim. And some of those might have medical qualifications. So,’ she scanned the room. ‘Who was dealing with the school?’

  Gillian raised her hand. ‘Me, boss.’

  ‘Can you get back onto the Education Department and get a full class list please? Let’s go for the last year they were at primary school – primary seven. And any who aren’t in that group, we need contact details asap. Also, find out what did they did post-secondary school. If anyone went into anything scientific or medical, I want to know about it. Okay?’

  Gillian indicated she would do this and began scribbling on her notepad.

  ‘And while we’re talking about the school,’ Clare went on, ‘I hope to speak to the head teacher who was in post at the time the girls were pupils. Unfortunately she’s had heart surgery but, with luck, I should be able to see her tomorrow.’ She glanced at Chris. ‘Have I forgotten anything?’

  ‘Just that pair at Sharp and Lafferty.’

  ‘Miles and Cheryl? Much as I’d love to see them behind bars, Chris, I don’t think there’s anything to link them with Ingrid or Ruth. But it is worth keeping them in mind. If they do turn up in any other connection, let me know.’

  She looked round the room. ‘Okay, guys. That’s it. Get me on my phone if you find anything.’

  They began to shift off desks and boot up laptops. A few headed to the kitchen to make drinks while others sat down to telephone the WhatsApp group members again.

  Clare watched them to make sure everyone knew what they were doing then she turned to Chris. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what Donny Cohen has to say for himself.’

  Chapter 42

  The Kenlybank Hotel was busier than Clare expected for a Tuesday morning. As they walked into reception they saw a large board to the side of the desk bearing the words,

  Welcome to our delegates

  from

  Cassells Insurance & Investment

  A long trestle table, covered with a pristine white linen cloth, bore rows of delegate lanyards and a smiling woman behind the desk was handing them out to sharp-suited men and women. A pair of double doors to a function room stood open and Clare could see another long table set out with cups and saucers just inside the door. A small group of delegates stood at the table, pouring themselves hot drinks from flasks.

  The receptionist recognised Clare and Chris from the day before and asked them to wait while she fetched Donny.

  ‘Is that where your party is?’ she asked Chris, indicating the function room.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Other side of reception. Nice room.’

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve invited Diane and Suzi?’

  ‘Suzi Bishop? Press Officer? I hadn’t planned to. Diane’s coming though.’

  ‘That’ll be nice. I never get the chance to see these guys.’

  ‘I would invite Suzi but Sara doesn’t really know her.’

  ‘No problem.’ Out of the corner of her eye Clare saw Donny Cohen approaching. He was missing the designer stubble from Stoneman’s profile photo but there was no mistaking it was him. He was tall and lean, with good hair – thick and dark, swept back from his forehead. He had the kind of face that smiled easily but, this morning, as he approached Clare and Chris, he looked wary.

  ‘I’m Donny Cohen,’ he said. ‘I gather you were looking for me yesterday.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Clare said. ‘Is there somewhere we could talk?’

  Donny glanced around, as if concerned they would be overheard. Then he said, ‘This way.’

  He led them past the reception desk, through a heavy wooden door that gave onto a corridor. At the end of it a woman in a dark blue tunic was filling a wheeled hamper with bed sheets while the trolley next to it held piles of freshly folded linen.

  ‘In here,’ Donny said, pushing open another door marked Staff Only. They followed him into a small windowless room, simply furnished with a desk, chairs and a telephone. He indicated the chairs. ‘Would you like to sit?’

  Clare and Chris sat down and Donny followed suit, moving his chair to the other side of the desk.

  ‘So, what’s this about?’

  ‘We’re investigating the murder of three women in the town,’ Clare said, watching him carefully.

  There was no mistaking his reaction. His eyes widened and for a moment he didn’t speak, as though trying to process this. Then he said, ‘You’re not here to ask me…’ he tailed off.

  ‘Thing is, Donny, we believe there could be a link with a dating website, and we’ve found your photo on that site.’

  He stared and then he started to laugh. ‘I’m not on a dating site,’ he said. ‘I’m married, Inspector.’ He indicated a gold band on his wedding finger. ‘You’ve got the wrong guy.’

>   Chris took out his phone and opened up his photos where he’d stored a screenshot of Stoneman’s profile. He handed the phone to Donny.

  Donny stared at it for a moment, reading the description below the photo. He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘This isn’t me.’ He looked up at Clare. ‘Inspector, I am not on this dating site. I don’t know if this is one of my mates doing it for a laugh but this is not me.’ The colour was rising from his neck and Clare saw beads of perspiration starting to form on his brow. He shook his head again. ‘It really isn’t me. I swear.’ He handed the phone back to Chris.

  ‘Can you tell us your shifts at the hotel between Christmas and new year please?’ Clare said.

  ‘Five to one, every night,’ he shot back.

  ‘Night off?’

  ‘Twenty-seventh.’

  ‘We’ll have to check that,’ Clare said. ‘I’d also like your permission to check your phone records.’

  ‘I’m telling you I’m not that… that Stone-guy – whatever he’s called.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know how else to say it.’

  Clare smiled. ‘I’m sure you’re not, Donny. But we do need to check everything. We have three dead bodies in the mortuary so I am sorry, but it has to be done. You are, of course, within your rights to refuse to let us have your phone records. But we’ll apply for a warrant so it’s only a matter of time.’

  He hesitated then took his phone out of his pocket. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘But if I could just…’

  They waited.

  ‘Well, it’s like this: you might find some messages, back and forward – one of the waitresses, you see. We sort of text each other…’ he tailed off.

  ‘Name?’ Clare asked.

  ‘Maddie. Sorry, Madeleine White.’

  Clare wrote this down then gave him a smile. ‘Rest assured, Donny, if it has no bearing on our case we won’t be pursuing it.’

  ‘Won’t even mention it to your wife,’ Chris added.

  Donny looked stricken and Clare kicked Chris’s ankle under the desk.

  ‘It’s unlikely we’ll have to talk to her,’ Clare reassured him. ‘Providing none of the numbers on your phone match with those we’re interested in.’

  ‘I can’t be without my phone, though,’ Donny said. ‘I use it all the time.’

  Clare considered this. ‘I think we can work round that.’ She checked her watch. ‘What time do you get off?’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Can you call into the station as soon as you finish?’

  He nodded. ‘Suppose. Only…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, my photo – how did it get onto that site?’

  Chris took out his phone again. ‘You on Facebook, Donny?’

  Donny shrugged. ‘Yeah. Course I am.’

  Chris began tapping at his phone and a few seconds later held it out to show Donny. ‘Now we’re not friends on Facebook but see how much of your data I can see? Your security settings are pretty loose. Someone’s stolen your photo.’ Chris then copied Donny’s photo and pasted it into a Google search. He handed the phone to Donny. ‘This is a search on your photo.’

  Donny gaped at the results of the search. Then he looked back at Chris. ‘Why the hell are all these people using my photo?’

  ‘Spammers or hackers, usually. Trying to trick someone into giving away personal information. You’re a good-looking guy. Might attract a lot of women online. Your photo’s a hacker’s dream. If I were you, Donny, I’d tighten up my security settings.’

  They watched him walk briskly back to his duties. When he was out of earshot Clare said, ‘That was a bit cruel.’

  ‘What, mentioning his wife? Serves him right. I can’t be doing with guys like him.’

  ‘The good-looking ones?’

  ‘Shut up.’

  At the front desk, they waited while the receptionist dealt with a phone call. When she’d finished Clare said, ‘Could I see your duty rota please? For the week between Christmas and new year.’

  The receptionist was doubtful. ‘I’m not sure…’

  Clare sighed. ‘We can ask for a warrant and it will be granted. But it’ll hold up our enquiries. Now I don’t plan to copy any of the data. I just need to check something.’

  The receptionist relented and, after a few minutes, a printer behind the desk began to whirr. Seconds later the receptionist handed two sheets to Clare and Chris and they bent over them.

  Then Chris noticed the receptionist hovering and he nudged Clare. ‘Let’s take this over to one of these tables,’ he said. ‘Save disturbing this lady at her work.’

  The receptionist gave a thin smile and turned back to her computer.

  Clare and Chris sat down at a small round mahogany table. A single rose in a narrow vase stood in the centre next to a menu offering morning coffees and pastries. Clare moved the vase to the side to make room for the printouts but Chris was studying the menu.

  ‘You’ve a kilt to fit into,’ she told him, moving the menu out of the way, ‘and you’ve had far too many of Zoe’s cakes.’ She ignored his injured look and spread the sheets of paper out on the table. ‘Now let’s see… so here’s Christmas Day.’ She ran a finger down a list of names stopping at D Cohen. ‘There he is. So let’s check all his shifts.’

  As Donny had said, he was working from five until one in the morning every day except for the twenty-seventh.

  ‘And Ingrid was definitely killed on the twenty-eighth,’ Chris said. ‘Or the early hours of the twenty-ninth at the latest.’

  Clare nodded. ‘So that lets him out of the frame,’ she said. ‘The Harvest Moon shut at midnight. Even if Ingrid was drunk it would have taken her less than twenty minutes to reach her house in Lamond Drive.’

  ‘Yeah, I doubt he’s involved.’

  ‘All the same, we’ll check his phone this afternoon.’

  ‘Check for his waitress girlfriend,’ Chris said. ‘Probably a long shot but I’d like to know if she was off on the twenty-eighth.’

  Clare scanned the rota again. ‘No. Looks like she was working the same shifts as Donny.’

  They rose from the table, Chris casting a last wistful glance at the menu. Clare handed the printed rota back to the receptionist and, dodging past a clutch of conference delegates, they headed for the main door. As they walked, Clare said, ‘I had an email this morning. We’re getting a Cyber Kiosk.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘A device that lets us download phone data in minutes. It’s on a trial basis and the legalities are still a bit up in the air. Strict instructions not to store anything without a warrant but it’ll let us download the data from Donny Cohen’s phone without having to hang onto it.’

  ‘Should we not have taken him back with us? In case he starts deleting stuff.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. It’ll show deleted stuff too.’

  Chris considered this. ‘I’m struggling to see the downside, Clare. It sounds brilliant. Think how much time that’ll save us running stuff down to Tech Support.’

  ‘Yeah, although it is better if we can use their expertise. But for a quick job like this I think it’ll be ideal.’

  ‘If it works.’

  ‘There is that.’

  Chapter 43

  There was an email from Diane waiting for Clare when she arrived back. There was also a padded bag on her desk next to a cupcake with bright pink icing. Evidently Zoe had been baking again.

  ‘Came in the internal mail,’ Jim said, indicating the parcel, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

  Clare took a bite out of the cupcake and wiped the crumbs off her face. ‘Jim, any of those spare phones kicking about? The ones we hand out to victims when we’ve taken their phone for analysis?’

  ‘Aye. Want one?’

  ‘Please. Bring it into my office. I’ve something to show you.’

  Clare bit into the cupcake again then took a pair of scissors to the padded bag. It was sealed with layers of thick tape and it took a few minutes t
o open. She felt inside and withdrew a small console, peeling off the bubble wrap. The Cyber Kiosk. She plugged it in and waited while it came to life. Chris and Jim crowded round.

  ‘What is it?’ Jim asked.

  ‘It’s a device that lets us download phone data in minutes,’ Clare said, shaking her computer mouse to bring the screen to life. ‘There’s a manual attached to the email.’

  ‘But that would save us hours,’ Jim said.

  ‘That’s the idea. Got that phone?’

  Jim handed over an old Nokia. Clare attached the cable and plugged it into the Cyber Kiosk.

  ‘Now, if I can just remember…’

  ‘You seen one of these before?’ Chris asked.

  ‘Yeah. Back end of last year. Remember that training day I had, over at Gartcosh?’

  ‘The Crime Campus? Yeah.’

  ‘This was part of the day. We have it on a trial basis and I’m the only one authorised to operate it for now. So it stays in my office.’

  The screen lit up as it began to extract data from the phone. ‘See this?’ Clare said, indicating a menu down the side of the screen. ‘We can choose which data we want to interrogate. So, let’s look at text messages.’ She pointed to the display and it began to fill with screen after screen of text messages. ‘So, we can see the other number, name too, if the person is stored as a contact, and the content of the message.’

  ‘Date and time too,’ Chris said, peering at it.

  Clare unplugged the burner phone from the Kiosk and handed it back to Jim. ‘Chris and I interviewed Donny Cohen this morning. He’s definitely the man in Stoneman’s photo but he denies being on Attracto.’

  ‘Believe him?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Yeah, I think so,’ Clare said, and Chris nodded in agreement. ‘He’s bringing his phone in this afternoon,’ Clare went on. ‘So I’ll check his contacts against the WhatsApp group and hopefully rule him out.’