by Alex Walters
‘Did you take a statement?’
‘Aye. There wasn’t much more they could tell us. I think they just fled back inside and called us.’
The approaching vehicle had drawn up behind Grant’s. One of the Examiners’ white vans, with the lumbering figure of Pete Carrick climbing out. She imagined that Jock Henderson would have ensured he drew the longer straw of dealing with the body in Ginny Horton’s house rather than braving this one.
‘Evening.’ Carrick looked characteristically untroubled by the prospect of examining a corpse in the pouring rain. ‘Where’s our customer?’ His face was invisible inside a hefty waterproof.
Burns led Carrick and Grant down towards the shoreline, holding his flashlight steady so they could find their way across the uneven ground. ‘Over here.’
The tide had receded since the body had been washed up, and the shapeless black mound was several metres back from the water. Carrick nodded, as if responding to some unspoken question.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Grant said to Carrick. ‘I’ll go and have a quick chat with the couple who found the body.’
As Burns had indicated, there was little more the two holidaymakers, a Mr and Mrs Renshaw, were able to tell her. They both still looked slightly in shock. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ Mr Renshaw said for the third or fourth time. ‘I mean, it’s not what you expect, is it? We were halfway down towards the sea when we saw it –’ He stopped, as if the memory had startled him.
‘We didn’t know what it was at first,’ Mrs Renshaw said. ‘I thought it was some sort of animal. A large dog or a pony. Something like that.’
‘We got a bit closer,’ Renshaw said. ‘And then it was obvious. I still can’t believe it.’
‘Do you know who it is?’ Mrs Renshaw asked.
‘We think so,’ Grant said. ‘Someone reported missing in Cromarty recently.’
‘The poor thing,’ Mrs Renshaw said. ‘It must be so cold out there.’ She made it sound as if Ally Donald had been for an ill-advised swim.
‘Have you seen any other objects washed up? In the last day or two, I mean.’ There was no reason to think that Donald might have been carrying anything that wasn’t on the body, but it was worth checking.
‘Not that we’ve noticed,’ Mr Renshaw said. ‘We go for a stroll along the shore every day, so we’d probably have spotted anything.’
‘Do you come here regularly?’
‘We’ve been booking this place for a few years now,’ Renshaw said. ‘We like the peace and quiet.’
‘And the views,’ Mrs Renshaw said. ‘We love the views.’
‘We usually come up a couple of times a year. We’ll be back again in the summer.’
Grant nodded. ‘You’ve given a statement to the PC, I believe. We’ll leave you in peace now. We’ll get everything sorted outside, so you’ll see some comings and goings, but don’t worry. Did the PC take contact details for you?’
Mrs Renshaw nodded. ‘Will you need anything more from us?’ she asked, anxiously.
‘I don’t imagine so,’ Grant said. ‘But sometimes, there are things we need to double-check at a later stage. We won’t trouble you unless we need to.’
Neither of the Renshaws looked reassured by this statement.
‘I mean,’ Renshaw said, as Grant rose to leave, ‘it’s not what you expect, is it?’
Outside, the rain was still coming down, the chill wind roaring up the firth. Carrick’s protective tent was flapping and clattering away in the wind, as if it might leave the ground at any moment. He emerged a few minutes later, pausing as he removed his face mask to check the tent moorings. Then, resembling an ungainly phantom in his white suit, he hurried over to join them. ‘Done about all I can,’ he said. ‘Not much chance of finding anything useful on him. Been in the water too long. Although –’ He paused, as if thinking. ‘When did you say he went missing?’
‘Couple of days ago. Why?’
‘Difficult to be sure, especially in these conditions. But I wouldn’t have thought he’d been in the water that long. Overnight, maybe. You’ll need to get the doc’s view.’
‘What do you reckon on cause of death?’
‘Again, hard to be certain. There are some odd-looking cuts and lesions on the body. I’m not the expert, but I’d say made before death rather than in the water. It almost looks –’
‘What?’
‘I’m probably going over the top. But I’d say he’d been subjected to some pain.’
‘Pain?’
‘Pain.’ Carrick seemed hesitant to proceed. ‘Lesions. Some cuts. Maybe burns.’ He took a breath. ‘Almost as if he’d been – well, tortured.’
‘Tortured?’
‘Ach, well, I’m probably being ridiculous. Doc’ll laugh at me. And tortured is maybe too strong. But, like I say, pain.’
‘Christ. The poor bugger. Not many people seem to have had a good word to say for Ally Donald, but no one deserves that.’
‘Donald,’ Carrick said. ‘Is this another ex-copper, then?’
‘Aye. Another member of Jackie Galloway’s happy band.’
‘Before my time,’ Carrick said. ‘We seem to have a pattern though.’
‘Aye,’ Grant said. ‘We do. And if you’re right about this one, it seems to be escalating.’
44
McKay hated hospitals. Others might have called his dislike irrational, but McKay thought it was reasonable enough. Hospitals were full of sick people. If you were in there, it was either because you were sick or because you knew someone who was. Or because you’d broken your toe and knew you’d be spending the next eight hours twiddling your thumbs in A&E with only piss-poor vending machine coffee for comfort.
Nobody wanted to be here. Not even, as far as McKay could tell, most of the staff. They were a decent bunch on the whole, he knew, but too many of them looked overstretched, exhausted, pale and dead-eyed in the face of another endless shift. He’d already had a brief argument with a security officer who’d told him he couldn’t come in outside visiting hours and who’d initially seemed unimpressed even by McKay’s warrant card. It was only when McKay began to make admittedly empty noises about the consequences of hindering a police enquiry that the man had grudgingly allowed him to pass.
It had taken him a further fifteen minutes to track down the ward where Isla was being treated. She’d been moved since her arrival, presumably because the staff were juggling beds, but nobody seemed to know where she’d been moved to. Eventually, he’d found a helpful auxiliary nurse who’d been able to extract the information and point him in the right direction.
Now, he was kicking his heels outside a locked ward, where everyone was clearly too busy to respond to the bell or pay any attention to a grumpy DI tapping vainly at the window.
Finally, a couple of porters arrived pushing a pale-looking elderly woman on a trolley. ‘Waiting to get in, pal?’
‘Aye,’ McKay growled, wondering whether it looked like he was standing in the corridor for his own entertainment. ‘No one answering the buzzer.’
‘They like to make you wait,’ the porter said. ‘Makes them feel important.’ He pressed his security pass against the locking mechanism, and the doors gently swung open. ‘After you,’ he said. ‘We’re in no hurry, are we, May?’ He winked at the woman on the trolley who offered a half smile in return.
‘Thanks,’ McKay said.
A stern-looking nurse was already striding towards them. ‘Can I help you?’ she said, in a tone that suggested the answer was unlikely to be in the affirmative.
McKay waved his warrant card. ‘I’m looking for Isla Bennett,’ he said. ‘Brought in earlier.’
‘Ms Bennett’s asleep, I’m afraid.’
‘Aye, I imagine so,’ McKay said. ‘Is her partner still here? I’m assuming you don’t throw everyone out after visiting hours?’
‘Yes, she’s still sitting with Ms Bennett. For the moment,’ she added pointedly.
‘And would you be able to point me in
their direction?’
She finally conceded and gestured towards the far end of the ward. ‘Last bay on the right,’ she said. ‘Please do try not to disturb the other patients.’
‘I’ll put the song and dance act on hold,’ McKay said.
Horton was sitting by Isla’s bed, looking half-asleep herself. ‘Alec?’
‘Aye. The bad penny. Looks like I’m back on the job. For tonight, at any rate.’ He pulled up a chair and sat down beside Horton. ‘How’s she doing?’
‘Not so bad. She woke for a while, but they’ve given her sedation for the night. They’re keeping her in ‘til they’ve got all the test results back, but they think she’s okay.’
‘And how are you?’
‘I’m fine. A bit shocked about David. But mainly just because it happened in our house. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Did Isla say anything when she woke?’
‘Not really. She was still very woozy. I don’t think she saw anything. Like me, she hadn’t been into the living room. Went straight into the kitchen to make a coffee. She can’t remember much after that, but it looks like she was struck from behind with some heavy object. Fairly vicious blow, from what the doctor said, but luckily, Isla’s got a thick head.’ She gave a laugh only just the right side of forced. ‘Could easily have been much nastier.’
‘Small mercies,’ McKay said. ‘So, she knew nothing about –’
‘David? I don’t think so. She was spared that, anyway. Not that either of us is likely to be entering a prolonged period of mourning, if that doesn’t sound too brutal.’
‘From what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like he’ll be much missed. At least he won’t be around to harass you again. Do you think that was why he was there again last night?’
‘I don’t know. Even that makes no real sense,’ Horton said. ‘After all the hassle, I’d finally agreed to meet with him. On neutral territory, with Isla present, so he couldn’t play any of his games. He’d agreed to that, so why would he change his mind?’
‘Maybe neutral territory wasn’t really what he wanted. Maybe he just agreed to the meeting to keep you stringing along.’
‘Could be,’ Horton said. ‘But that doesn’t explain who killed him. Or why they decided to do it in our house.’
‘Do you know of anyone who’d want to kill him?’
‘I imagine there were dozens of people. Some more serious than others. But, no, it’s years since I’ve seen him properly. I don’t know who he might be mixing with now. Or what he might be involved in.’ She shrugged. ‘I just wish he hadn’t brought whatever it is to my house.’
‘Aye, well, from what you say, that was the sort of man he was. His ID has an address in Surrey. Does that sound right?’
‘Probably. He was living somewhere near Guildford the last I knew. That was a few years ago.’
‘We’ll have to liaise with the local force down there,’ McKay said. ‘I’m guessing that whatever’s behind this is something that’s followed him up, for whatever reason.’
‘I’d assume so,’ Horton said. ‘I don’t know that he had any business up here, other than with me. Mind you, he was the sort of man who had his fingers in a lot of pies. As far as I know, he’d never been back up to these parts since –’ She stopped suddenly.
McKay frowned. ‘Since?’
Horton shook her head. ‘I was going to rabbit on, and then, I remembered that you don’t know about any of this, do you?’
‘From your tone, I’m guessing not.’
‘I’ve never told you about my background, have I? Well, not much.’
‘A fine English rose. The flower of the home counties. As English as – I don’t know – double-dealing and exploitation. Something like that?’
‘Except I’m not, really.’
‘Not what?’
‘Not English.’
‘So, what are you, then?’
‘If you weren’t already sitting down, I’d tell you to sit down. The shock might be too much. The fact is, Alec, I’m as Scottish as you are. Well, nearly.’
For a moment, McKay found himself in the unaccustomed position of not knowing what to say. ‘Well, that explains a lot,’ he said finally.
‘Does it?’
‘Aye, I always knew you were far too capable to be English.’ He shook his head. ‘But, okay, take me through this slowly. How come you’re Scottish? I’ve never heard anyone who sounds more fucking English. And, believe me, I’ve heard some gobshites over the years.’
‘You say the nicest things. I spent virtually all my childhood in the depths of Surrey. But I was born up here.’
‘So, what were you doing down there, then? Operating undercover? Missionary work?’
‘My mother moved south when I was small. With David.’ She recounted the story she’d previously told Isla.
McKay was having some difficulty processing all this. ‘Your dad was a copper?’
‘Apparently.’
‘Killed in a hit and run.’
‘Yes. He was a PC.’
‘When would this have been?’
‘Twenty odd years ago. I was just a baby.’
‘What was his name?’
‘Peter Horton. Mum kept his name. She and David never married.’
‘Doesn’t ring any bells,’ McKay said. ‘I’d have thought it would. Officer being killed’s a big deal, whatever the circumstances.’ He paused, thinking. ‘David Kirkland does, though, now I think about it.’
‘David?’
‘Aye. When Jock Henderson told me the name on the ID, it set something buzzing in my mind. But I couldn’t remember what it was. He was another one of us, wasn’t he?’
‘That’s what he told me. Left the force when we moved south.’
McKay leaned back on his chair and regarded Horton for a second. ‘You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you, Ginny? Why’d you never share any of this before?’
She shifted uneasily on her seat. ‘It didn’t seem relevant. Mum never wanted to talk about the time before we moved down south.’
‘Yet, you’ve ended up back up here in the family business?’
‘That’s what Isla said. Paging Dr Freud.’
‘Ach, well. None of us can escape our backgrounds, however much we might try.’
‘That’s a bit philosophical for you, Alec.’
‘I’m in a philosophical mood, Ginny. That’s what a few days of enforced inaction does to you.’ He was silent for a moment, his fingers drumming softly on the metal frame of Isla’s bed. ‘David Kirkland, though,’ he said finally.
‘What about him?’
‘He was a bit of an odd bugger.’ McKay hesitated. ‘Sorry, Ginny, I’m being insensitive –’
‘Feel free,’ she said. ‘I’ve said much worse about him. But how do you mean?’
‘I was just a young copper, so I only saw things from the margins. But there was a lot of gossip about Kirkland. He was nominally attached to Galloway’s team. Major investigations. He was a DS, but he seemed to occupy his own position, do pretty much what he wanted. He was one of the few people I never saw Galloway bully. Galloway just steered clear of him.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I don’t know what I’m saying. None of us knew much about Kirkland’s background. He was supposedly a local –’
‘He always told me he was from Inverness,’ Horton said. ‘And I suppose you could just about detect an accent. But he’d probably have passed for English to most people.’
‘Story was that he’d spent some years down south before he joined us up here. Worked for the Met. Nothing was ever said explicitly, but my impression was that he was on some sort of secondment arrangement rather than a straightforward transfer. Nobody seemed to know quite what his role was.’
‘People like that are usually spooks or Special Branch,’ Horton observed.
‘Or just self-important arseholes,’ McKay said. ‘But, aye, that was the gossip, right enough.’
�
��He never gave a hint of anything like that.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t, I suppose. Depending on what he’d been involved in.’
‘Why would he have been up here?’
‘That’s the question,’ McKay said. ‘Not exactly terrorist central up here. Ach, maybe it’s all bollocks. Maybe he just wanted people to think he was more than he was.’
‘Well, that would be David,’ Horton agreed. ‘I never saw him as a fantasist, but he didn’t suffer from any lack of self-importance.’
‘Intriguing, though,’ McKay said. ‘Another question is why he chose to leave the force after he got together with your mother. Why head back south?’
‘He always reckoned it was because he’d had enough. Wanted a change. He certainly didn’t go off to re-join Special Branch or MI5. He was working in some management role for a security firm. Did okay. Set himself up in something similar in the end. Agency security stuff. Made a penny or two out of it, though that was after Mum had left him.’
‘And he ends up dead on the floor of your living room,’ McKay said. ‘I don’t envy the poor bugger who gets landed with digging into all this.’
‘You don’t think it’ll be you, then? Leading the investigation, I mean. When you said you were back on the job –’
‘I’m just helping Helena out of a hole tonight. She’s running on empty. But I’m not out of the woods yet on the Rob Graham thing. She’s going to have to tread carefully. Anyway, this one we can throw back to our friends in the south. Like I say, we’ve no strong reason to believe the killing was connected with anything up here.’
‘Good luck with that,’ she said. ‘I’m sure they’ll be only too keen to take on a major investigation into a murder six-hundred miles away. Especially if there might be spook involvement.’
‘Everyone likes a challenge.’
She laughed. ‘Jesus, we need you back, Alec. You to keep me going.’