Snared

by Ed James

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “Christ, it was.” Tears welled in his eyes. “The hardest part was all the bloody admin I had to do after she’d gone. I just wanted to lie in bed for a month, thinking about the good times and getting used to her being gone. Instead, I had so much crap to do. In the end, I went walking in the Cairngorms for a week. That’s when I decided to sell up and move.”

  Vicky really didn’t know how to respond. “Corbie Drive’s a nice street.”

  Robert nodded. “I feel lucky. Liz and Dave are really nice. Seems to be a real community there.”

  “I wish I could afford to live there.”

  Robert finished his pint. “Your house isn’t so bad.”

  “Really? I’m a police officer and I live in the worst bit of Carnoustie.”

  “Not like it’s Arbroath.”

  “That’s true.” Vicky checked the bar was free then put her hand round his empty glass, still cold. “Another?”

  He nodded. “Get me the Ossian this time.”

  “Sure.” Vicky took his glass to the bar, finishing hers as she waited for their drinks.

  She watched Robert read her paper. Now she was pretty much sober, she revised his age down. Maybe not even forty. He seemed less nervous than on Saturday. Maybe the text messages and letting him walk her home had helped.

  She was a bit freaked out about how serious the conversation had got so quickly. Her instinct was to run away. She stared at the door — she could just leave.

  No way could she do that.

  The barman put the drinks in front of her. She paid and returned to the table.

  Robert held up his glass of ale, almost clear. “Cheers.”

  They clinked glasses.

  Vicky took a decent sip. “Billy Connolly’s first gig was supposed to be in here.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye. He was in the Territorial Army, staying at the camp at Barry.”

  “Never knew that.” Robert picked up her Tele. “I saw you on TV. Impressive.”

  “You think so? I kept stumbling over my words. My boss’s boss has made me book a media training course. A whole week.”

  “You didn’t look like you needed it.”

  “Thanks, but that course will cost hundreds and, with the cost-cutting going on, it wouldn’t have been agreed if I hadn’t made a complete mess of things.” She took a drink. “I don’t know what happens to me. When I’ve got my warrant card, I’m really confident, but outside of work, I’m a total mess. Talking to the press kind of blurred the lines. I become a wreck in front of a camera.”

  “It’s never easy talking to a camera.”

  “Have you had training?”

  Robert nodded. “I was involved in a community outreach thing Arbroath Football Club did with the schools in Arbroath and Carnoustie. We did a video. I hated it. Absolutely detested it.”

  “Sounds like a good thing to do, though.”

  “It was. I’m more into animal welfare, though.”

  “Really?”

  He held up the paper. “I’m not involved in this case, before you ask.”

  Vicky laughed. “Wasn’t going to suggest it.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “Well, I’m not really supposed to talk about it but that’s three cases we’ve got now.”

  “Three? It was just two on the telly.”

  Vicky rested a finger on the photo of Irene Henderson in the Tele. “We found one in Fife. The woman who got stuck in a bin last year?”

  Robert took a drink. “I read about that.” He shook his head. “What she did made me really angry.”

  “Me too. And that was before I met her. We think it might be vigilantes.”

  “Wouldn’t blame them if it was.” Robert flipped the paper back to the sport pages. “Have you got any pets?”

  “Just a scraggly little cat.”

  “What’s he called?”

  “Tinkle. It’s a she.” Vicky took a big drink. “How about you?”

  “Two dogs. Retired greyhounds. They’re lovely but I have to come home to walk them every lunchtime. That’s all the exercise they need but one of them doesn’t like being left alone.” He laughed. “That’s why we got the other one.”

  “Have you had them long?”

  “A few years. Moira loved the dogs.” He sat back and held up his hands. “Sorry, I keep going on about her. I swear I’m over it. As over as I can be . . .”

  “I wasn’t saying anything.”

  He smiled. “I don’t want to give the wrong impression. Dave and Liz kind of forced us into this blind date business.”

  “They did.”

  Robert stared at the tabletop. “I didn’t feel forced is what I’m trying to say. It’s why I texted you. It’s why I’m here.”

  “That’s why I texted you back. It’s why I gave you my card in the first place.”

  Robert finished his pint, still avoiding eye contact. He tapped her half-full glass, touching her finger. “Another?”

  Vicky bit her lip. “Sorry, I’ve to go back to see Bella, my daughter.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know.”

  “Is she a problem?”

  “No, not at all.” Robert shook his head, his lip out. “Did you get her name from Twilight?”

  Vicky pointed a finger at him. “No, and before you start, I hadn’t even heard of that bloody book when I had her.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “She’s good.” Vicky tugged her ponytail tight, the knot in her neck now a dull ache. “She’s a bit too much like me. Prone to tantrums, shall we say. She’s really friendly, though, so she’ll be okay.” She finished her glass. “I do worry I’m fucking her up, though.”

  Robert frowned. “Why on Earth? You seem like you’d be a good mother.”

  “You hardly know me.”

  “Even so.”

  Vicky sighed. “It’s just the amount I have to rely on my own parents to look after her.”

  “I know the feeling. I’ve got a boy myself. Jamie.”

  Vicky nodded. “I like that name.”

  “His mother did, too.” Robert cleared his throat. “This was good. Let’s do it again soon.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Absolutely. Let’s do dinner sometime.”

  Vicky thought quickly. “Wednesday. My place.”

  Robert grinned. “Wednesday’s good for me.”

  “You can bring Jamie if you want.”

  “He’s with his gran on a Wednesday.”

  Vicky leaned across the table and pecked him on the cheek. “I’ll see you then. You know where I live.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  She walked along Barry Road, past a long row of terraced houses, most with some form of dormer upstairs, all hiding behind a brick wall. Two cats were having a hissing fight in the middle. The streetlights opposite lit up the row of beech, casting long shadows across the waste ground next to the roundabout. “So, yeah, Liz, that’s what happened.”

  “Sounds like it went well?”

  “I think so.” Vicky turned down her street, saw the light in her front room burning away. “All the stuff about his wife was a bit doom and gloom, mind.”

  “Oh. Has that put you off him?”

  “Not sure.” Vicky swapped her phone to her other ear, stopping outside her house and leaning against her car. “I think I wasn’t my cold bitch self for once. It felt . . . okay.”

  “You two were like a pair of teenagers on Saturday night, Vicks. I’d be surprised if he didn’t like you.”

  “He’s not interested in me, is he?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, I’m worried he’s only seeing me because you’re forcing this on us.”

  “Have you asked him?
”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “He said he’s not.”

  “Vicks, I’m sorry if you feel this is being forced on you. Stop being so hard on yourself, girl. You’re fine.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “Dinner on Wednesday.”

  “Squeeee!”

  “Liz, I swear if you make that noise one more time, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “Sorry.” Liz laughed, the phone distorting the sound.

  “Look, I better go. Got to check on the devil girl and let Mum get back.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “Mum is. Just be thankful you’ve not got kids, Liz.”

  “Just be thankful we’ve chosen not to have kids.”

  “Goodnight.” Vicky pocketed the phone before opening the door.

  Mum stood in the sitting room doorway, coat already on. “Well?”

  “Well what?” Vicky hung up her coat. “Is Bella asleep?”

  “She is. Poor wee thing fell asleep watching the TV.” Mum beamed. “We saw you on the news. Bella was so happy.”

  “I’m glad I’ve managed to avoid it so far. It was horrible.”

  “You came across well, Victoria. I’m very proud of you. So’s your father.”

  “He’s at least done press conferences without every second word being um or ah.”

  Mum screwed up her eyes. “How was your date?”

  “It was fine.”

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “Maybe. I just had two Bacardis with him, Mum, that’s all.”

  “Just allow me to be happy for you.”

  “For once, maybe I’ll let it pass.”

  She hugged Vicky tight. “I’m pleased for you.”

  Vicky put her arms around her. “Is the only good thing about my life the fact I’ve been on a date?”

  “No!” Mum stood back, looking her in the eye. “Why would you think that?”

  “You just go on about how bad I am, Mum. The only time you’re happy’s when I’ve got a man on the scene.”

  “Victoria, I know how hard it is for you and Bella on your own. You’re doing a brilliant job of raising my wee girl. Me and your father aren’t going to be around forever, though.”

  Vicky rubbed a hand across her face, trying to cover the tear before it slid down. “Don’t say that, Mum.”

  “I just want you to be happy, Victoria, okay?”

  “Okay, Mum.” Vicky coughed, her voice thick with the tears.

  “I’ll need to collect your father from the station. God knows what sort of a state he’s got himself into.”

  “You go. I’ll drop Bella off at eight tomorrow, okay?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Cheers.” Vicky pecked her on the cheek.

  Mum let herself out, grinning as she shut the door behind her.

  Vicky climbed the stairs, making for Bella’s room. She nudged the door open, the shaft of light creeping across the floor towards the bed covered in toys with barely enough room for Bella.

  Vicky knelt and gently kissed her daughter on the top of her head.

  Bella’s eyes flickered open. “Mummy catched baddies on telly.”

  Tuesday

  1st April 2014

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Forrester started the morning briefing with a smile. “Got some slightly good news this morning. The SOCOs found a couple of human hairs in the farmhouse near to where the first note was found. The colours didn’t match any of the family. Dark brown versus blonde. The hair on the wife and kids was shaved in the barn, so we think this could be a lead. They’re off getting deep analysis in Glasgow.”

  He held up two newspapers. “The Courier and the Press and Journal have it on their front pages. It was in last night’s Tele, too. All of the Scottish nationals have gone with it, plus The Guardian, Mail, Star and The Daily Telegraph. Luckily, nobody’s gone with the notes or video in any great detail.”

  Vicky stared at Zoë. “Keeping on topic, how are you doing with the email Anita Skinner received?”

  “I had a good look. It had links to the notes used as well as the video. I don’t think we’ll get anything from it but I’ve sent it to a few contacts to verify. I think she’s innocent. Since last night, I’ve got hold of a few other copies of this email, which suggests she’s not involved.”

  “Good work. Sorry, sir.”

  Forrester shrugged. “The phones have started going mental and we’ve had to divert some of the calls to Edinburgh. Nothing of note so far. I want the DCs going through call logs as a priority, reporting to Mac or Vicky on an hourly basis.” He smiled at MacDonald. “How’s the street team doing?”

  “Uniform still going around the industrial estate. Not got much, I’m afraid. Don’t expect anything at this point but it’s worth a shot.” MacDonald waved a sheet of paper around. “Just received a copy of the statements from the two Polish farm workers. Uniform reckon they’ve checked out but I want to go through them with a fine-tooth comb after this.”

  “Good work.” Forrester leaned back against the wall. “Did you get a chance to look at the Wildlife Crime Unit leads?”

  “Yes, sir. Was in till ten last night going through the stuff then in at six to finish off.”

  Vicky rolled her eyes at Karen. How many Brownie points was that?

  Forrester folded his arms. “And did you get anywhere?”

  MacDonald checked a notepad. “Gave me two key leads they reckon are possibly relevant. Both have undercover operatives so we’re treading on eggshells.” He licked his lips. “First, commune near Redford called Phorever Love, spelled with a Ph.”

  Vicky smirked. “Sounds like a Shamen song.”

  Forrester winked. “Showing your age there, Vicky.”

  “Wildlife guys gave us permission to speak to them about our cases.” MacDonald sniffed. “Group’s got a public profile, usually picket places. Did Hunter’s Farm a few years ago, stopped the delivery lorries getting in for a week before they were turfed out.”

  Forrester stood up straight. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do they reckon they’re involved?”

  MacDonald shrugged. “Why they gave us the lead, I suppose.”

  “What’s the other one?”

  MacDonald checked his notepad again. “Other lead is a group of cyberterrorists, thought to be located in Scotland. Haven’t got an exact location — they could be anywhere, but there’s a suspicion they may be in rural Angus. An off-grid kind of deal.”

  “Why do they think this lot might be involved?”

  “Took down a few company websites, including a GMO company in Midlothian and a cattle feed company in Paisley. Sites were down for over two weeks. Hacked a few meat companies’ Twitter accounts and so on. Made them look like idiots.”

  Forrester rubbed his chin. “Right, Vicky, I want you to focus on this camp.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “You’ve been dealing with this ‘dark web’ stuff I won’t even begin to pretend to understand, so can you take lead on the cyberterrorists as well? Be careful no cover’s blown. These are people’s lives we’re dealing with, all right?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Fine. Mac, please focus on the door-to-door investigation. That’ll need a lot more attention given the news conference yesterday.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Okay. Dismissed.”

  Karen grabbed Vicky’s arm as everyone got to their feet. “How did it go last night, then?”

  Vicky spotted Zoë making a beeline for her. “Got to go. Chat at lunchtime, yeah?”

  “Fine.” Karen stomped off.

  Zoë tugged her hair, avoidin
g eye contact. “Do you want to go through that dark net stuff just now?”

  Vicky shrugged. “You know what you’re doing more than me. I’m going to head out to Redford once I’ve read the report, so if you can let me know where you’ve got to by lunchtime?”

  “Sure.” Zoë blinked a few times. “That’s fine.”

  Vicky took a deep breath. “Speak to DC Considine if you need anything else.”

  “I’ll try not to need anything.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Considine turned right just before the road to Crombie Park, heading deeper into the Angus wilderness.

  Vicky glanced at him. “Did Zoë speak to you about the cyberterrorists, Stephen?”

  “Aye, she did. I briefed her. Poor thing was lost in that case file MacDonald gave her.”

  “I see.” Vicky smirked. “And you helped her, of course?”

  Considine blushed as he powered through Carmyllie, passing a farm shop Vicky had been to a few times with her parents. “Of course I helped her. It’s a useful lead.”

  “Do you have a thing for her?”

  “No comment.”

  Vicky had to look out of the window to stop from laughing.

  Considine turned down a country lane, passing entrances to two large farms on opposite sides of the road, before taking a right along a single track. “It’s down here, I think.” He trundled on for a few minutes, the car’s suspension rocking. “Thank God we took the Python.”

  “Don’t call your car that. Seriously.”

  “I was thinking of getting a sticker above the windscreen.”

  “If you do that, don’t even think of driving it on police business.”

  “I’m joking.”

  “Of course you were.”

  Considine slowed as they came to a set of large walls, barbed wire along the top, a steel gate blocking the entrance, ‘Phorever Love’ graffitied in pink and red. “Doesn’t look like much love’s going on in there. It’s like something out of that Walking Dead thing on the telly.”

  “I seriously hope there are no zombies in there.”

  “Can’t beat zombies.”

  “Zombies or not, it’s not exactly what I was expecting from a hippie commune.” Vicky pointed to a passing space on the left. “Pull in here.”