by Alex Walters
There was an intensity to Maggie Donnelly’s tone that suggested she was talking about something outside Kelly’s youthful experience. Something more than harmless flirting or even philandering. Something more serious. But none of this was her business.
‘Well,’ she said, finally. ‘Say goodbye to him for me. I’m sorry it’s ended like this.’
‘Aye, Kelly,’ Maggie Donnelly said. ‘So am I.’
Kelly remained motionless for a few moments, expecting the other woman to say something more. But she remained silent, her eyes fixed on Kelly’s face, as if waiting for her to leave.
‘Goodbye, then,’ Kelly said awkwardly. ‘I’ll see you around.’
She pushed her way out through the bar room doors. The sun was still shining, but the air felt colder, chill against her skin, as if the spring had decided to delay its return after all.
52
Isla Bennett checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. It was nearly two hours since she’d spoken to Ginny. She’d assumed Ginny would leave home more or less immediately and would have been here long ago. Even allowing for the traffic, it shouldn’t have taken her more than half an hour to make the journey from Ardersier into the hospital.
Maybe she was having trouble parking. Maybe there was some road closure or accident that had disrupted Ginny’s journey in. But, in that case, Isla was surprised that Ginny hadn’t phoned.
She’d tried calling a couple of times, feeling foolish at her own anxieties. The phone had cut to voicemail. That, in itself, was unusual. Ginny made a point of answering, if she could. She generally turned the phone off only if she was caught up in some police business that made interruption impossible.
Perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps Ginny had been called in unexpectedly to deal with some work commitment. Isla knew how much pressure Ginny and her colleagues were facing at the moment.
But that made even less sense. If Ginny had been called in to work, she’d certainly have phoned to let Isla know what was happening.
So, where the hell was she?
Isla forced herself to sit quietly until two hours had passed. She’d already had to repel one of the nurses who, no doubt with the best of intentions, had repeatedly enquired whether her friend had been delayed. Well, obviously she has, she wanted to respond. Instead, she’d just smiled and nodded and said she was sure Ginny would be along shortly.
At the two-hour point, she tried Ginny’s mobile again. As before, it cut straight to voicemail. She’d already tried the landline at home, but both of them tended to ignore that, because the only calls they received were junk ones. As she expected, it rang then, like the mobile, cut to voicemail.
Unsure what to do next, she flicked through the address book on her phone, wondering if there was anyone else she could call. Maybe one of Ginny’s work colleagues who might at least be able to say whether she’d been called back in.
The only relevant number in her list was Alec McKay’s. McKay had given it to her the previous year when Ginny had been in hospital overnight after all that stuff up in Rosemarkie. ‘If you need anything,’ he’d said to Isla, ‘just call me. Anytime. I’ll do whatever I can.’
At the time, Isla had been unable to imagine any reason why she might need or want to call McKay. She had nothing against the man. From Ginny’s accounts, he was a decent boss, his growling bark far worse than his bite, and a likeable enough individual once you got beyond his surface surliness. But Ginny had never shown any great inclination to mix with her colleagues outside work, other than the odd Christmas meal or swift drink at the end of the day, and Isla had been more than happy to go along with that.
The phone barely rang before she heard the distinctive voice at the other end of the line. ‘McKay.’
‘Alec. I’m really sorry to bother you. It’s Isla Bennett here.’
There was a momentary silence, and she knew he was trying to work out who she was. Finally, he said, ‘Ginny’s Isla?’
‘Yes, Ginny’s Isla.’ It was a reasonable enough description, she thought.
‘Sorry. Bit slow today,’ he said. ‘Late night last night, with one thing and another. How’s the head?’
‘I seem to have survived,’ Isla said. ‘All okay, according to the docs.’
‘Glad to hear it. Nasty business. Have they released you from the quackery, then?’
‘Yes. But, well, that’s why I’m calling.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’m waiting at Raigmore. Ginny was supposed to be picking me up. We spoke a couple of hours ago, and I thought she was coming straight over, but she’s not turned up yet.’ She felt like a small child complaining her mother was late collecting her from school.
McKay’s response, though, was more serious than she’d expected. ‘She told you she was coming straight in?’
‘That’s what she said. My impression was that she was just going to throw some clothes on and get over here.’
‘This was two hours ago?’
‘A bit more.’
‘You’ve tried her mobile?’
‘Yes, of course. Just goes straight to voicemail.’
‘That’s not like Ginny,’ he said, echoing her own thoughts. ‘She almost always takes calls. She’s not left any messages, anything like that?’
‘No. I’ve been checking my voicemail and texts in case I’d missed something.’
There was a longer, more ominous silence. ‘Have you been told what happened last night?’
‘Ginny said she’d fill me in when she got here. All I know if that some bugger hit me over the head.’
‘This is something I should be saying to you face-to-face,’ McKay said. ‘But we found a body in your sitting room. Well, Ginny did.’
It was Isla’s turn to be silent, as she struggled to formulate a response. In the end, all she could manage was, ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Ginny found you unconscious in the kitchen. The front door had been left ajar. She called the police and ambulance and stayed with you till they arrived. Then, when the uniforms checked the rest of the house, they found a body in your sitting room.’
‘A body?’
‘David Kirkland.’
‘David – Ginny’s stepfather?’
‘It appears he’d been murdered. Strangled.’
‘My God. Poor Ginny.’
‘My impression was that she wasn’t exactly mourning his passing. But, aye, it must have been a shock.’
‘But who –?’
‘We haven’t a clue who or why.’ He paused. ‘I suppose that’s why I’m beginning to share your anxiety about Ginny. Whatever the reasons for Kirkland’s death, I’d assumed it was something personal to him. It hadn’t occurred to me there might be any threat to Ginny. But I don’t want to take any chances.’
‘You really think she might be in danger?’
‘I can’t see any good reason why she should be,’ McKay said. ‘It’s much more likely that Kirkland’s killing was linked to his own activities or background. Nothing that would involve Ginny. But – well, we don’t know anything for sure. I’ll head over to your house and see if I can find out what’s happened to her. Can I get you on this number?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you if she turns up in the meantime.’
‘Aye, thanks. And I’ll call you when I get to the house.’
‘I’m sorry to put you to all this trouble. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just being paranoid.’
‘Aye, well,’ McKay said, ‘let’s hope so.’
The traffic on the A9 and A92 was light, even for a Saturday afternoon. McKay had seen nothing that might account for Horton’s delay in reaching the hospital.
Even before he’d stopped at the end of the driveway, he’d registered that there were still two cars parked outside the house. He climbed out of his own car and walked slowly down the driveway. The fine weather was holding its own, only the faintest of breezes coming in from the firth. Somewhere beyond the house, McKay could hear
the brush of the tide on the shore, the raucous cawing of a gull.
He stopped and peered in through the passenger window of Horton’s car, then tried the door. The car had been left unlocked. McKay dipped his head into the interior and examined the front and rear seats, but neither offered any clue to Horton’s whereabouts.
He slammed the door shut, then walked over to the front door of the house. He jammed his finger on the doorbell, and held it down.
There was no response. McKay pushed gently at the door. It was, as he’d expected, firmly locked, apparently with the full mortice lock engaged.
McKay looked around him. The front garden was laid mainly to lawn, with no obvious places of concealment. He made his way around the side of the house into the smaller rear garden. Again, it was largely lawn, with some trees and shrubbery along the boundaries. Other than a couple of gulls picking aimlessly at the grass, there was no sign of life.
There were no lights showing in the house. He approached the rear door and tried the handle. It was firmly locked. The two patio doors were similarly secured. He pressed his face to the glass and peered into the sitting room. Everything looked undisturbed, untouched since he’d tidied it the previous evening following the removal of Kirkland’s body.
It seemed unlikely that Horton was still in the house, but there was no way to be sure without gaining entry. He walked back to the front of the house, thumbing through his phone’s address book.
‘Helena?’
‘Alec. You sound like you’re outside?’
‘Aye. Outside Ginny’s house, to be precise. I think we might have a situation.’ It took him only a minute to update her.
‘You really think she might be missing?’
‘Something’s happened to her. She told Isla she was leaving straight away. She’s not the sort to just disappear. And her car’s still here. Unlocked.’
‘I’ll get over there. Shall I stop off at the hospital and pick up Isla?’
‘You’d better. She’ll be climbing the walls. And she can give us access to the house. I’ll let her know.’
His phone call back to Isla was even shorter. He tried to offer some reassurance, but they both knew there was little he could say. ‘We’ll get you over here,’ he said. ‘Then, we can see how things stand.’
He ended the call and walked to the end of the drive. The house stood some distance from the two neighbouring properties. They could check whether anyone had seen Horton leaving the house, but it seemed unlikely there’d be any witnesses. McKay was returning to the house when his mobile rang. An unfamiliar number.
‘McKay.’
The voice on the line was young, nervous, stumbling over its words. ‘Mr McKay. Can you spare me a minute? It’s Kelly Armstrong. You know, from the Caley Bar.’
His first thought was to wonder how she had his mobile number, but then he remembered. She and her boyfriend had found the first body in that bizarre murder investigation the previous year. He’d given them his mobile number in case they had anything to add to their statements. He hadn’t intended it as carte blanche to call him whenever they felt like it.
‘Look, Kelly,' he said, 'it’s really not the best time –’
‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s just a stupid thing anyway.’
He decided to take pity on her. There was nothing he could do here in any case until Grant and Isla Bennett arrived. There was no sense in troubling the neighbours until they’d had a look inside the house. ‘Ach, no, Kelly. I can spare you a minute. What’s the trouble?’
‘Well, it’s just this.’ She sounded embarrassed now that he was taking her seriously. ‘I’m probably making a fuss about nothing. But after all that stuff last year –’
‘Go on.’
‘It's about the bar,’ she said. 'Well, about the Donnellys. The couple who've taken it over.’
‘They’ve done a decent job, that couple. What’s the problem?’
She told him what Maggie and Callum Donnelly had said to her, recounting her final exchange with Maggie.
‘With respect, Kelly, it doesn’t sound a lot. A bit of a marital tiff, that’s all. I understand they’re quite common in some marriages.’ Aye, too right, he added to himself.
‘I know. I understand that.’ She sounded deflated, as if she’d expected that McKay might accord her more respect. ‘It wasn’t that, exactly. It was something about the way she talked about him and his – well, his behaviour. It was as if she was talking about something more than just, you know, playing around. As if she was trying to warn me of something. I kept thinking about it afterwards, and it just felt odd.’
‘In what way?’ Kelly Armstrong was no fool, McKay reflected. She’d been more than right about that sleazebag Denny Gorman. If she felt there might be something wrong about Callum Donnelly, it was at least worth listening to, even if now wasn’t the ideal moment.
‘It was the tone, I think. She didn’t exactly sound jealous or anything like that. It was more that she was concerned about me. About my safety. I don’t know – as if he might be some kind of threat.’
‘Maybe she just thought you might be vulnerable. Emotionally, I mean.’
‘I know. That’s what I assumed at first. But it felt more than that. I can’t really explain. Just, well, you know –’ She stopped, as if unsure where she was taking this.
‘Intuition? Aye, I know. The copper’s best friend and worst enemy.’ He paused, struck by a sudden thought. ‘I’m not saying you’re wrong. You’re smart enough. There’s not a lot I can do, though. Donnelly didn’t actually do anything, did he?’
‘Nothing, no. I felt a bit uncomfortable, but that might have been my fault as much as his. I’m just wasting your time, aren’t I?’
‘We’d always rather people talk to us, Kelly. Better safe than sorry. Look, I’ll try to find an excuse to talk to the Donnellys. See if I share any of your concerns. There’s not a lot more I can do –’
‘No, I understand that.’ She sounded as if she didn’t believe him.
‘I will do it, Kelly. Trust me. I’m not fobbing you off. I can’t promise it’ll go anywhere, but I will talk to them.’
‘Thanks. I know I’m being stupid but –’
‘Like I say, better safe than sorry.’
It was no more than instinct built on instinct, he thought as he ended the call. Or, to put it another way, nothing based on bugger all. Even so, he dialled the number that had been established for the Major Incident Room, hoping someone would be there on a Saturday morning. In the middle of an investigation, the odds were on his side.
Sure enough, the phone was answered almost immediately. ‘MIR. Carlisle speaking.’
‘Josh. Alec McKay here.’
‘Guv?’ He could almost hear Carlisle jumping to attention. Josh Carlisle was a bright, serious hard worker, always keen to please his superiors. In normal times, McKay found it almost impossible not to take the piss out of him. It had taken him months to stop Carlisle calling him “sir.”
‘Wonder if you could do me a small favour, Josh? I want to get some intel on a guy called Callum Donnelly. Can you get on to the PNC team and find out what they’ve got.’
‘Anything in particular?’
‘Any past convictions. Cautions. Anything, really. There may be nothing, but I’d like to know.’ McKay gave Donnelly’s current address at the Caledonian Bar. ‘That’s all I’ve got. From his accent, I think he’s Irish or Northern Irish – probably Northern, when I think about it. Don’t know if that’s right, and if so, how long he’s been over here.’
‘The Caledonian Bar?’ Carlisle said. ‘Isn’t that –?’
‘Aye, the very same. Just coincidence, though. Unless there’s a curse on that bloody place.’
It was clear that Carlisle wanted to ask more, but McKay was in no mood to share. ‘Just see what you can find, Josh. It’s probably a waste of time, but give it a go.’
‘If you say so, guv.’
‘Aye, Josh. It’s
the privilege of high office to bugger your underlings about. Humour me, eh?’
‘I’ll get back as soon as I can.’
‘Much appreciated, Josh.’
Moments later, Helena Grant’s car pulled into the end of the drive. McKay stepped forward to help Isla Bennett out of the passenger seat. He’d always found her a mildly intimidating figure, but today, she looked slight and pale, as if diminished by everything that had happened. Her head was bandaged, but there was no other sign of any injuries.
‘How are you feeling?’ McKay said.
‘Physically fine,’ she said. ‘Emotionally shot to hell. What’s happened to Ginny?’
‘I wish I knew. Her car’s there, unlocked. The front door of the house is double-locked, as far as I can tell.’
Isla fumbled in her handbag for a set of keys. ‘Let’s see if there’s any clues inside.’
It took her a moment to unlock the front door. Grant sat in the kitchen with Isla while McKay checked the rest of the house.
‘No sign of her,’ he said. ‘The bed’s unmade. Looks like the shower’s been recently used.’
‘What about her coat? Handbag?’ Grant said.
Isla rose and peered into the hallway. ‘She usually wears her waterproof at this time of the year. It’s normally hanging up in the hall.’ She paused. ‘It’s not there.’ She turned. ‘I don’t know about her handbag. She usually leaves it in the bedroom at night. It’s got keys and bank cards and suchlike in it.’
‘I didn’t see it up there,’ McKay said. ‘I had a good look round for anything like that.’
Grant took a breath. ‘So, it looks like she left the house, locked up behind her, unlocked the car, but then, for some reason, didn’t drive off.’ It was a statement of the obvious, but it felt more shocking to hear it said out loud.
‘So, where the hell is she?’ Isla said.
‘Is there anywhere she could have gone?’ Grant asked. ‘Neighbours? Some kind of emergency she might have got caught up in?’