Remember Me 2
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Remember Me?
(Book Two)
A DCI McKenzie Crime Thriller
IAN C.P. IRVINE
Copyright 2020 © IAN C.P. IRVINE
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright observed above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the copyright owner.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people with the explicit permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The school mentioned in this book was a real school. It no longer exists, having been demolished a few years ago. For many years it was the centre of the community. Many, many thousands of pupils went to Portobello High School. And for most, it was an incredible, enjoyable experience, with special teachers. This book is dedicated to the amazing educators that worked there, and who gave of themselves to help others. All of the names and characters in the book are entirely fictional, and every element of this story is fictional. But the school building was real. And it was blue.
Dedicated to all my teachers at Portobello High School.
You were excellent!
With special thanks to:
Mr Kirkpatrick
Mr Marshall
Miss Cook
Mr Wheeldon
Mrs Hamilton
Although I may have forgotten everything you taught me, I will never forget you!
Please note: This is the second book in a two part series. The story begins with Book One which is FREE and concludes with Book Two. Book One is free, so download it now at no extra cost! If you have not already read Book One, please return to Amazon to find details.
Alternatively, you have the option to purchase an Omnibus version containing both Book One and Book Two, which readers are recommended to purchase.
Books by Ian C.P. Irvine
The Assassin’s Gift
Say You're Sorry
I Spy, I Saw Her Die
Haunted From Without
Haunted From Within
Time Ship
The Orlando File.
The Messiah Conspiracy
London 2012: What If?
The Sleeping Truth
Alexis Meets Wiziwam the Wizard
Table Of Contents
.
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Other Books By IAN CP IRVINE
Chapter 23
Please note: This is the second book in a two part series. The story begins with Book One which is FREE and concludes with Book Two. Book One is free, so download it now at no extra cost! If you have not already read Book One, please return to Amazon to find details.
Alternatively, you have the option to purchase an Omnibus version containing both Book One and Book Two, which readers are recommended to purchase.
The Portobello School Reunion
Milton Road
Sunday
01.45
“I’d offer you a lift,” Stuart said to Marie, “but I cycled here and I don’t have a seat on the back.”
“Thanks. So not a knight in shining armour that will whisk me off into the night then?” she quipped.
“Is that what you’d like?”
“It has a certain appeal.” She laughed. “But there is one problem. I don’t know anything about you at all. I told you everything about me, and bored you to tears with my stories about my children and my ideas how to raise money for them, but you told me nothing. My parents taught me not to go off with strange men.”
“So now you think I’m strange?” Stuart raised his eyebrows, quizzing her.
She laughed.
“Very.”
“That, Marie McDonald, is a great shame, because to tell you the truth, I think you are quite amazing.”
Stuart looked straight into her eyes as he said it, and for a moment their gazes were both locked together.
Marie started to blush, but without breaking away, she answered.
“Thank you. And I think that you, Stuart Nisbet, are also very interesting.”
“Very interesting? That doesn’t sound particularly good. And there was I wondering if I should ask you if you’d like to have lunch, and possibly also dinner with me, today? But, if I’m only very interesting… ”
“I’d love to.” She replied.
Just then her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her handbag.
“My Uber. It’ll only be a few minutes away.”
“Can I pick you up somewhere tomorrow?” Stuart asked.
“Outside the Lady Nairn hotel in Duddingston? One o’clock? There’ll still be time for lunch somewhere.”
A car turned into the car park and pulled up alongside them.
She nodded at the driver, then turned to Stuart and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“I’ll see you this at lunch time, Mr Nisbet. But come with answers. I’m bringing lots of questions with me.”
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Sunday
01.55
Willy Thomson watched as the couple outside the foyer gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.
The woman eventually got into a taxi, and the man retrieved a cycle from around the corner of the building and then cycled off.
Almost everyone had gone now.
Luckily, he’d managed to avoid being seen by DCI McKenzie as he’d said his goodbyes to a crowd of people, which included two other detectives and policemen that he recognised. Obviously also former pupils of Porty that he hadn’t clocked before.
Willy had been standing outside of the school for some time now.
Looking at the sports cars lined up in the car park.
Fighting with the urge to go down the line and key them all.
Normally he’d never ever miss the chance to do something like that. It was such a simple act to do, but one which was so effective in making a statement.
One by one however, the owners have come outside, got into their cars and driven off.
Only one car was left, and Willy couldn’t keep his eyes off it.
This has his chance. No one else was around.
In a way, Willy knew that he was testing himself. Testing his resolve to actually go straight.
If he didn’t do this, now, if he could just walk away, without touching it, then he knew he would have the strength to go straight.
He’d keyed thousands of cars in his life.
It was so easy to do. With no risks.
But it was oh-so-bad!
“
Don’t even think about it, Willy Thomson. Remember what I said?” DCI McKenzie’s voice caught him by surprise.
Willy spun around.
“I thought you’d gone?”
“I just walked my wife to her car. I’m not done here yet. But you are.”
“Aye, you’re right about that. I was just leaving.” Willy smiled.
Actually smiled.
McKenzie had never ever seen him smile before.
He was always the ultimate sad bastard that carried the biggest chip on his shoulder, blaming the world for everything.
Willy took a step forward onto the car park towards the exit, but then turned and came back, reaching out his hand to the detective.
“Here, this is for you. I found it on the ground, and I don’t want it falling into the wrong hands. Can you get rid of it for me?”
Then he turned and walked away.
McKenzie looked down at the little plastic packet that Willy Thomson had just handed him.
Cocaine.
McKenzie looked up and watched Willy disappear.
McKenzie was a good detective, but why Willy Thomson had just voluntarily handed him a packet of cocaine, he just didn’t know.
It made no sense.
None at all.
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Sunday
02.00
Barry and Irene were the last people to leave the school building. Outside, the continued ominous presence of the police car put paid to their secret, clever plan: to wait until the police car left, then for Irene to drive home.
She’d only had two drinks, then stopped. By now she’d probably be almost completely sober.
Safe enough to drive home, but probably not yet under the zero-tolerance alcohol limit in Scotland.
“Plan B, then?” Barry laughed, and together they walked across to the car, opened the doors and climbed into the back seat.
A voice caught them off guard, almost immediately.
“Hello? I hope you’re not planning to drive that home now?” DCI McKenzie said, looking through the open window at Barry and Irene.
“No, but who are you anyway? What’s it got to do with you?” Barry asked, very defensively. Irene immediately put her hand on his arm, indicating restraint, even though it probably wasn’t necessary. Barry wasn’t a violent man at all. If anything, he was worried and stressed about the stupid car.
“DCI McKenzie. Police Scotland.”
“Okay, we’re in the back seat. We’re going to wait here and sleep until about 6 a.m. Then my wife will drive us home. I stupidly got upset and drank too much and I can’t drive, but equally, I can’t leave this car here unattended. It’s not mine.”
“Where do you live?”
“About five minutes from here in Duddingston.”
“It’s not your car?”
“I hired it. To show off.”
“My husband’s an idiot, officer. But I love him anyway.” Irene added, trying to diffuse any possible situation before it developed.
“Okay, how about this? You give me the keys. I drive you both home, and the police car will follow, then pick me up at your house?”
Barry stared at the man, then glanced across at Irene and back again.
“You’d do that?”
“If I don’t, and you fall asleep, you’ll probably wake up and find that you’ve got no tyres left. Give me five minutes, and I’ll be back.”
“Result!” Barry laughed aloud.
A private police escort home!
That would certainly get the neighbours talking, if any were still awake to see.
Wishart was waiting for McKenzie just inside the foyer. She’d confirmed with the caretaker that everyone else had gone, and McKenzie agreed that it was okay for the remaining police presence to leave, most of which McKenzie had already dismissed.
After saying goodnight to Wishart, McKenzie walked over to the police car, where three armed officers sat waiting for the final all clear, and then explained what was going to happen.
All teachers and all pupils had left the school.
Everything had gone smoothly.
It had been a good night.
Three minutes later, the Boxster and the police car left the car park.
Just for a joke, one of the officers put on the blue flashing lights.
Barry and Irene laughed.
What an incredible end to an incredible evening!
And what a wonderful way to start the rest of their lives afresh, now that after all these years, Barry had finally left school and grown up.
Chapter 24
Portobello Beach
Sunday
02.30
Willy Thomson was high.
Not on drugs. Not on alcohol.
Just on life.
Probably for the first time ever, or maybe for the first time since he’d lost his virginity when he was fourteen.
Tonight, above all the odds, the person he’d least expected to ever do so, had extended the hand of friendship to him, and offered him an opportunity.
No one, NO ONE, had ever offered Wee Willy Thomson an opportunity before.
And now he’d made up his mind to take it, the rush he was experiencing was quite incredible.
He was excited.
Nervous.
Afraid.
And happy.
All at once.
The incredible thing was, the rush was free.
A natural thing.
Which was amazing.
Aside from shagging women, Willy hadn’t thought that natural highs like this existed.
He walked back from the ball, down to Porty Beach, and along to his favourite spot on the sand, down in front of the Bath Street Baths.
In recent years, it had become quite the tradition for people to come down in the evening at the weekend and build a wee bonfire, then sit around and drink and chat.
Or just sit staring out across the sea and think.
Tonight, Willy had gathered up some wood and paper from one of the skips in Bath Street, and had got his own wee fire going in no time.
He now sat beside his wee fire, thinking.
Planning.
How his life was going to be from now on.
He was going to work hard.
Train hard.
Become a plumber.
And then get the hell out of Edinburgh to somewhere new, where no one knew him, and start a new plumbing business.
Turn it into an empire.
Rule the world.
“The future’s so bright, I need sunglasses.” He laughed, repeating a line to himself that one of his few mates had said to him, once.
Willy had learnt the line, but never used it, because until now, there had never even been the faintest glow on the horizon, let alone an enticing light as bright as it was now.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A rough voice shouted at him from behind.
Will spun around, expecting to see a policeman, or someone telling him to put the fire out. Everyone made fires, but maybe they were illegal?
Instead Willy found himself surrounded by a gang of about seven kids, all wearing hoodies, hands either stuffed inside and most likely holding onto something, or balled into fists and ready for action.
It didn’t look good.
Willy was about to be mugged.
“I recognise you. Willy Thomson. Wee Willy Thomson. You’re the bastard, that gave me this last night!” the man, obviously the leader of the gang, shouted at him whilst pointing at a massive black eye.
Willy recognised him then. It was the guy Willy had mugged on his way home the evening before. The one who’d practically broken his hand when he hit him.
Willy didn’t respond. He slowly stood up, and was busy appraising his chances, and his escape route. Which was basically to run down to the sea, and swim.
“Big mistake. We’re the new boys down here, and you dissed me big time. You’re dead, pal!”
The man nodded, and the gang crowd
ed in closer around Willy.
Willy saw the first flash of a blade before he was able to reach down and retrieve his from his shoes.
Six more appeared almost simultaneously.
The gang circled Willy before he could run, and within seconds it was all over.
From the promenade, the beach was too dark for anyone to make out what was happening.
Afterwards, the gang ran down to the shoreline, dispersed, and disappeared off in both directions, black figures running against a black sea, their black deed done and unseen.
Within seconds they were gone.
Willy lay beside his fire, his unseeing eyes gazing up at the stars, little hot embers rising like fireflies into the night sky above.
Far, far above, a shooting star shot across the wide expanse of sky.
Normally an omen of good luck, this time Willy was unable to make a wish.
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Sunday
Operation BlueBuilding
Incident Room
Portacabin
10.00
McKenzie stood up in front of the assembled, bleary-eyed team and clapped his hands.
“Mather gave me a quick update this morning before he left, and basically reported that nothing happened here last night. Gary Bruce slept all night in his office downstairs, and did a regular patrol with the other police officers, but they observed nothing and reported nothing. So far so good.”
“As I think you all know, the Reunion Ball last night went well and passed without incident. The pupils who attended it enjoyed it, that much was obvious, and we used the event to learn as much as we could about the deceased teachers. Suffice it to say, they were well liked, and there seems no obvious reason, at least none that anyone told us about, which may provide a motive for their deaths. Again, so far so good.”
From the downbeat tone of his voice, the team could guess that some bad news was coming.
“There is a little positive news, in some ways, bad in others. Due to some brilliant and very patient investigating, Dean was able to identify a white van that was seen here outside the school, and also very close to the flat of David Weir during the time we were visiting there. Unfortunately, within an hour of identifying it on CCTV, the van was discovered smouldering on wasteland in Seafield. It’s been recovered and examined. A footprint was recovered from the ground near the van, but forensics aren’t hopeful that it relates to the van. Apparently it’s a popular dogging site.” McKenzie paused.