Dark of Night

Home > Other > Dark of Night > Page 16
Dark of Night Page 16

by Oliver Davies


  “The factor will doubtless have a word or two to say about that,” I told her.

  “He did sound rather cross when I mentioned it.” I could see her grin. “See you soon then, Sir.”

  I put my phone away and crouched down to see what Davie had stopped to photograph. Deer scat, a sizeable heap of little bullet-shaped droppings, and somebody had stuck the front half of their sole into it, flattening some of them down.

  “No useful treads left on that,” Davie told me. “Those are long washed away. Still, at least we can all close up a bit, now we know they were here. Jamie, Dougie, six feet either side o’ me now, Inspector Keane and Sergeant Murray will take the outsides.”

  Repositioned as instructed, we started off again.

  We didn’t find anything else before we got down to where a gate in the park fence let onto the orchard, but once we were through, we got lucky again, where the apple trees hung over a raised ridge of the dirt track we were now following. Two more clear, partial prints, and from different shoes.

  “This one’s a match for the one by the house,” Davie confirmed at the second find. “So now we know for sure that whoever left that one was also down here.” Photographs duly taken, again, we moved on, passing the overgrown ridge on our right and turning north to head up towards the part of the burn that ran past our murder site. I’d been so busy scanning the ground that I’m not sure how long it had been since I’d last looked up and around properly but, a little further on, I paused to stretch my neck and do so.

  “Stop!” I exclaimed loudly. Everyone turned to stare at me and then followed my gaze upward to see what had caught my attention. Davie Baird stared at it, scratched his head and then sort of chuckled.

  “Oh, the dumb, glaikit idiots!” he managed with a little choking noise. “Did they think it would just fall right through in there?” He grinned at me. “I think we’re going to need the 4x4 and some serious tools to get to that for you, Conall.” He unbuttoned a flap on his vest and pulled out his phone. While he made the call I just stared, scarcely believing my eyes, at the cricket bat hanging suspended in a tangle of brambles about halfway up the ridge.

  Sixteen

  Caitlin

  We left Davie Baird and Dougie searching the area between the place Conall had seen what we all believed was our murder weapon, hung up in the brambles, and the flatter stretch of land opposite the Ramsay farm. Davie said we could borrow Jamie, to go and see what Walker and Mills had found. He was quite happy with just Dougie to assist him until the new team arrived.

  Those two were already checking along the edge of the bramble patch when we left them, looking for signs of any misguided attempt by our culprits to retrieve the flagrantly exposed bat. Those brambles were monsters. Maybe the ridge itself was only twelve feet high, as Jessica had told us, but the tangle of growth, from our level, rose to over twice that height. I was sure I could see a couple of scrub oaks buried among the reaching tangle of thorny, arching stems.

  We circled the overgrown ridge and headed up the east slope, three abreast, carefully checking the ground as we walked, finding nothing. Walker and Mills were waiting for us at the lower edge of the copse and, one by one, they showed us the places they’d tagged, numbered from one through to seven, with Jamie taking further pictures at each location from a few paces away. Then, leaving the SOCO lad to get on with his job properly, we all went to admire the clear view down to the Ramsay farm from the edge of the trees, keeping well to the right of where the evidence suggested our suspects had positioned themselves. The large farmhouse, Gareth’s cottage, and the outbuildings were all in plain sight from here. Even after dark, you’d be able to watch vehicles coming and going, and see different lights going on and off in any of the buildings.

  “You two did a great job of it up here,” Conall told Walker and Mills, after he’d had a good long look down at the farm. “Thorough, careful work. Maybe the pair of you should think about going over to Davie Baird’s team? I’m sure he’d be happy to take you on.”

  They both grinned sheepishly, and Walker even flushed a little. I saw Conall’s slight, fleeting frown as he noticed that, but I don’t think he’d twigged. More likely he was worrying that maybe he’d not been giving them enough positive reinforcement lately, which was not the case. Conall never hesitated to offer any of his DCs a verbal pat on the back when they’d earned one.

  “And leave you, Sir?” Mills pulled a face. “Voluntarily? When Great Birnam Wood next walks, maybe.” Conall just looked over at me and rolled his eyes.

  “Well, educated little smart alecs, the DCs we get these days, aren’t they, Sergeant Murray?”

  “Well,” I allowed, “if he’d just said, ‘and pigs might fly’ instead, you’d probably have suggested sending them off to the Air Support Unit, knowing you.” More happy grins. “So,” I asked him, “what are you going to do with them now?”

  “I suppose they could stay and help Mr Baird’s team, until he’s all done here for the day?” he mused, his mouth twitching slightly. “The traditional reward for a job well done is to be given another job, right? And Davie will be moving on to the north side of the house, up through the woods later. The more bodies he has for that, the better they can cover the ground.” He eyed the two DCs doubtfully. “Unless either of you would prefer to let Collins or Bryce take over for you out here? Had enough traipsing about in the cold yet? Fancy a nice cuppa at the station over some paperwork instead?”

  “No, Sir.” “Not at all, Sir.” Slightly outraged by the very idea of it, the pair of them. He was a sly, manipulative devil sometimes, our exceptionally young for the rank boss.

  “Well, if you both insist.” He gave them an approving nod. “Just make sure you do exactly as Mr Baird tells you or we’ll be having words about it later. Understood?”

  “Of course, Sir!” Mills sounded almost offended, while Walker just nodded.

  “Jamie?” Conall called, staring along to where Davie’s lad had been working. Jamie popped his head out from the trees about twenty feet further along from us. “Do you want these two DCs of mine for anything else up here, or shall I send them on down to the boss?”

  “Nah, I’m all good here, Inspector. Let him have ‘em.”

  “You heard the man. Off you go then.” I watched them bounce off, keen as mustard, then followed Conall the other way, around the trees and on up the slope. “Are we popping in at the camp again?” I asked, catching up with him as he paused to wait for me.

  “It’s as quick a way to get back to the house as retracing our steps down would be.” He considerately shortened his stride to match mine as we set off again. “And I need to have another word with Jessica Kerr before we go. If she’s still at the house, fine, but if she’s come up to talk to them all, we’ll catch her either way like this.” Right, the instruction about nobody wandering around alone. I checked the time as we walked. It was nearly half-past two already. We’d been with Davie Baird and his boys for longer than I’d realised.

  We reached the bottom end of the field and let ourselves in through the gate. As we trudged up the slope, Conall nudged my arm and pointed up at the camp. “Looks like we’ve got a new arrival on site. That van wasn’t here yesterday.”

  I looked up. There was a pale blue and white vintage VW camper occupying a position a little apart from the main line, off to their left on a good, flat spot. The top end of that field must have had excellent drainage because none of the vans looked to be in any immediate danger of getting bogged down, despite all the recent rain.

  “That’s a very cute little camper van.” I decided, “It’s got a bit more personality about it than the others.” As we got nearer, I could see Jessica Kerr, Miguel, and a few of the students clustered around a figure at the rear of the new van, talking animatedly. A single voice carried fitfully on the breeze to us as everyone else fell quiet.

  “… no, he was just asking if I could... covers like mine, for his... and I have to go back to Edinburgh on Mon… isn’t time
to...while I’m here.” It was a rather lovely, melodic voice, with an interesting Irish/Scots blend in the accent. “I’ll take the measure... up in May... or send them... can’t make it.”

  Miguel was positively bouncing for joy as he looked from face to face delightedly, and he was the first to spot us coming. He waved at us happily, and Jessica Kerr turned to see who he was looking at. She hastily walked over to us, before we could reach them all, and so we stopped where we were, still a little distance away from the group.

  “Goodness, you two just pop up all over the place,” she said, looking from one to the other of us. Her mood had certainly improved since lunch. She looked quite flushed, and much the bonnier for it. “Have you had any luck since you left us, Inspector?”

  Conall gave her a slight nod. “From our point of view, yes, we have Miss Kerr. But I’m afraid we are now certain that persons unknown did use the estate as a means of getting to the Ramsay farm. We found more footprints, and some other signs of their passage along the route your uncle mapped out for us.”

  “Oh,” Some of her earlier anxiety resurfaced. “That’s not at all pleasant to think about... people who could do such a thing, they were really here, creeping about our land. It’s hard to believe it.” She stared up at him worriedly. “Is there any reason to think that they might still be around here somewhere? On the estate, I mean?”

  “None that we know of,” Conall told her. “But I meant what I said earlier, none of you should wander around here alone, for now.”

  “We won’t,” she promised him earnestly. “Everyone has been advised of the situation.” Then, wishing to drop that discomfiting subject and train of thought as quickly as possible, “Did you want to speak to one of the others again?”

  “Actually, I hadn’t intended to.” But his glance flicked toward the group around the new van before he looked back at her. “We were just heading back to the house this way in the hope of bumping into you again actually, in one place or the other.” Her eyebrows lifted quizzically. “We still need the contacts for the two detectorists, Mr Boyd and Mr Peters, wasn’t it?” he clarified. “I’m afraid that we left a little abruptly after lunch, or I would have made sure to get them from you earlier.”

  “Oh, of course.” She pulled her phone out, looking a little embarrassed at her failure to offer them earlier. “I only have their numbers and emails I’m afraid; I never thought to ask for their addresses. And I have a link to Mr Boyd’s blog as well.” I moved around so I could copy the information into a new email on my own phone.

  “And the name of the cafe where you met with them? And the date and time?” I asked, and Jessica gave me those details too. I knew the place well, it was on the High Street, between the shopping centre and the river. I sent the email over to Conall, and he nodded a thanks at me as his pocket beeped, along with a look I recognised. He wanted me to do the talking for the next bit. “Very helpful, thank you, Miss Kerr.” I put my phone away. “I see you’ve had a new arrival here since yesterday?” I gestured to the VW van, “Has one of the other students come up unexpectedly?”

  Jessica Kerr’s flush returned, deeper than before. “Actually, no, Sergeant. My friend Abby, and some of the others met this amazing guy at the pub at lunchtime, and they all got talking. He’s just lovely, really, awfully shy but ever so sweet.” She was positively glowing as she gushed at me. “He makes really amazing things out of wood, stunning work, and he speaks over a dozen languages too. He and Miguel have been jabbering away at each other in Portuguese as happy as anything.” Wow! She’d got it bad, and in record-breaking time by the sound of things. “Uncle Douglas is going to be delighted that I’ve finally found another linguist for him to talk to.”

  “So, this man is a total stranger to all of you?” Conall had decided to re-enter the conversation very quickly, a little taken aback, no doubt, by her totally unconcerned and over-enthusiastic reaction to this mysterious prodigy. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to invite any unknown people to stay here, especially just now, Miss Kerr.”

  She gave him a pitying look, as if she judged his misguided concern to be well-intentioned but laughable.

  “Abby insisted I wouldn’t understand until I met him myself, and she was right, Inspector. Believe me. Shay’s the most harmless creature you’re ever likely to meet.” She frowned at him. “They were quite right to call and ask me if they could bring him over. He was going to park up on his own! In the middle of nowhere! You can’t tell me that sounds sensible, with a murderer on the loose in the area.” Somehow, she made it sound as if she didn’t think her new guest should ever be allowed out on his own, for any reason.

  “Well,” Conall conceded, “I’m sure he’s just as you say, perfectly harmless.” Lying through his teeth, because neither of us could be sure of any such thing right then. “But we will need to have a word with him ourselves of course,” he told her firmly.

  “If you feel you really must,” she sniffed disapprovingly, “but please, do be careful how you speak to him, Inspector. None of us want him to feel at all uncomfortable here.” I looked at Conall questioningly, but he just returned me an equally puzzled ‘don’t ask me, I’m as baffled as you are’ shrug. We trailed Jessica over to the others.

  “Good afternoon everyone,” Conall greeted them pleasantly, and I noted the shrinking figure stepping back behind the girl who must be Abby and ducking his head. “Miss Kerr has just been telling us about the nice young man who’s come to stay with you. Would you all be so kind as to give us a minute to speak with him please?”

  With visible reluctance, Abby, Miguel, Paul, Stephen and Lindsay all murmured a few reassuring words to their new friend before walking away together towards Miguel’s camper, with quite a few, anxious, backward glances as they went. Meanwhile, the object of their concern, and of our current attention, seemed to be finding the grass at his feet too fascinating to look away from. Jessica Kerr, arms crossed and a stubborn look on her face, didn’t budge, and Conall must have thought that was best, because he didn’t send her packing with the rest of them.

  The new lad had his hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets and was shuffling his feet nervously. He had smashing hair, of a deep, warm brown colour, liberally streaked with a rich variety of lighter tones where the sun had artistically brushed them in. I knew girls who’d paid a small fortune to have two or three different shades of artificial highlights put in; nice enough, but you could always tell they’d come from a bottle. His hair was thick, silky and very straight, and he wore it parted in the middle, cut very neatly at the sides and back, with a long flopping fringe at the front that made me itch for a pair of scissors. Those hanging wings hid most of his lowered face from us; a deliberate effect?

  “Shay?” Jessica had moved to stand a little closer to him and reached out a hesitant hand, as if to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, before seeming to think better of it. She crossed her own arms again instead. “The police officers we mentioned earlier would just like a little word with you, Inspector Keane and Sergeant Murray.”

  A little resigned shrug, but he barely peeked up, as far as I could tell through that concealing curtain.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Conall said pleasantly, his head slightly cocked to one side as he studied the newcomer, “Nothing to worry about though. We just need to check a few things with you and see some identification, and then we can leave you all to enjoy yourselves in peace, Mr... Shay, is it?” I had rarely heard him use such a mild tone. It even won him a brief smile from Jessica, who relaxed visibly.

  “It is,” that Irish/Scots blur again, “Shay Keane. My name is Shay Keane.”

  Jessica huffed out a surprised breath, an amused little sound. “Oh! What a coincidence Inspector. I wonder if you’re distantly related?”

  Conall gave her a slightly exasperated look as Shay stiffened, bristling with offended disapproval, and when Conall opened his mouth to speak again, I could have fallen over, I was that surprised. I’d had no idea he’d had s
uch an authentic-sounding Irish accent at his disposal all this time.

  “Why, sure, and half the Kerrs in Scotland must be cousins o’ yours too, Miss Jessica,” he declared, straight-faced. I stifled the urge to laugh and Shay, Mr Keane, snorted softly as his head came up curiously. I sucked in a quiet breath. Bloody hell! He was drop-dead gorgeous… and those eyes, I’d never seen anything quite like them. They were a glorious golden amber colour, unbelievable really, you had to see them for yourself. No wonder they’d all been handling him like fragile porcelain, and I could understand, now, why Jessica Kerr had seemed so instantaneously smitten.

  “A granny tucked away down Ballinasloe way for you now is it, Inspector Keane?” he asked, a shy little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You can take the boy out of Galway…”

  “… and if he’s got any sense, he’ll stay out, except to visit now and then. Aye, me da used to say that too.” Conall’s amused eyes flicked away to have a good look at the VW van. If Mr Keane’s appearance had surprised or affected him in any way, it was not apparent to me. Conall could be like that, as if such trivial details were of no interest to him. “I like your van,” he added, in his normal voice. “It’s good to see such a lovely lady treated so well.”

  The shy smile blossomed at Conall’s back as he strolled around to look at the front.

  “You took the side door out,” he commented, running an idle hand over the panelling as he came back. “Clever. I bet that gave you a lot more storage space in there.”

  Shay nodded, looking more relaxed by the moment. Conall returned to his original position at my side, a good few feet away from his subject and the hovering Jessica.

  “And what brings you up to Inverness Mr Keane?” he asked politely. So he’d heard the bit about getting back to Edinburgh. “Having a bit of a break?”

  Another nod. “Just a few days. I’ve got a stall booked at the craft fair in the village for Saturday and Sunday.”

 

‹ Prev