Blacklight (Dark Yorkshire Book 2)

by J M Dalgliesh

  “Sorry? Is that it?” Hunter said. Caslin regretted speaking; silence suddenly seemed much more appealing.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “How about “hey Sarah, there’s this whole other blackmail thing going on” or “you know, Sebastian paid a backhander to cover for a prossie, last year”. Anything along those lines would’ve been nice.”

  “I know,” Caslin said with genuine contrition. “I am sorry, really. I hadn’t got it all clear in my head, that’s all.”

  “And no-one else knows about this yet?”

  “No, just us…and Catherine, obviously.”

  “Oh yes, her. Suddenly I don’t feel a great deal of sympathy for her.”

  “Come on, Sarah,” Caslin challenged. “You don’t mean that.”

  Hunter got in the driver’s side, slamming the door behind her. Caslin sighed and with a glance skyward, opened his door and also got in.

  “What do we do now, then?” she asked him as he fastened his seatbelt.

  “I want to go back and have another word with Natalie’s friend, Lottie. It’s about time she told us something useful.”

  “Okay, do you think she’ll open up?”

  “Well, things have changed,” Caslin said, looking out of the window. “She’s not just missing now. The game’s changed, so must the rules.”

  “What did he mean when he talked about “greasing the wheels with certain people”?” Hunter asked, taking a left and heading out of the city.

  “I don’t know. The funny handshake brigade, perhaps.”

  “The masons?” Hunter queried.

  “Probably. It’s as good as any other idea. After all, having the son of such a high-profile person around couldn’t hurt your business.”

  “Catherine says Timothy practically runs the place.”

  Caslin didn’t reply. Perhaps Timothy was worth his weight, or perhaps everyone else had to shoulder it. People often had inflated opinions of their own capabilities or those of their partner. The father-to-son relationship, in this case, was evidently challenging from both sides. To Caslin, it was all beginning to feel like a busman’s holiday.

  The drive over to Fairfax House was short and yet, felt like it took an age. The summer warmth had arrived only to be accompanied by a frosty atmosphere inside the car. Pulling up outside the accommodation block, Caslin sought to make amends, if only slightly.

  “The DCI said you acquitted yourself well, while I was off.”

  “Did he,” Hunter replied with no break in her persistent scowl. She had stepped up to Acting DI whilst Caslin recuperated.

  “He thinks you’ll make a good Inspector. That’s high praise, particularly coming from him. You’ve passed all your exams as well, haven’t you?”

  “You don’t have to suck up, Caslin,” Hunter said, looking across at him. “Just don’t keep me in the dark like that again…ever.”

  He smiled and was pleased when she returned it. “I’m not lying though. I reckon the next position that comes up is most likely yours.”

  “I’d best stay clear of you then,” she said.

  His smile broadened, watching her get out of the car. He did likewise and they went in search of Lottie. They approached the main entrance and were buzzed in. Finding their way up to her dorm, they found no-one home. Asking a passing student of Lottie’s possible whereabouts, they were directed to the gardens. Once outside they found her sitting on the lawn within a group of around a dozen. She saw them approach and the sweeping smile that had been on her face faded rapidly. She stood up and excused herself from the others, coming to meet them.

  “I didn’t expect to see you both so soon,” she said with a contrived smile. “Have you found Natalie?”

  Caslin eyed her with a stern expression, “No Lottie, we haven’t and what’s more, I think you hoped you wouldn’t see us so soon.”

  She looked away then, appearing agitated, shifting her weight between her feet. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Lottie, you must’ve seen the news, Hunter said evenly. “If not, you will have heard. Natalie’s in real trouble and you need to help us. Forget whatever it is you think you’re doing for the best. You need to talk to us,” Hunter passionately implored Lottie to help them.

  “I…I don’t know what it is you want from me?”

  Caslin said firmly, “I want you to tell us what it is we don’t know. And you know what I mean by that, don’t you?”

  “I’ve not heard from her,” Lottie said, “and I don’t know her plans for that day.”

  “But?” Hunter added.

  Lottie’s expression changed and she exhaled heavily, “She had talked about skipping the dig and heading off with Stuart for the day but it was idle talk, you know. Her course is important to her.”

  “And who might Stuart be?” Caslin asked, irritated that this childish girl could keep this from them.

  “He’s her boyfriend, sort of,” Lottie said.

  “Sort of?” Caslin asked. “Well, is he, or isn’t he?”

  “He is.”

  “Does Stuart have a second name?”

  “I don’t know it,” Lottie said, shaking her head in response to the doubting expressions trained on her. “Honestly, I swear.”

  “Where can we find him?” Hunter asked, equally annoyed.

  “I don’t know. He’s not a student,” she said, meeting Caslin’s unforgiving stare. “I never see him on campus and he’s hardly ever here, at the halls. You could check her laptop, they’re always emailing and she has pictures of him on it, too.”

  “You mean her tablet?”

  “No, she has a laptop,” Lottie said, looking from one to the other.

  Caslin and Hunter exchanged glances. “Her laptop is at her parents” house,” Caslin stated.

  “Not that one. She has two. Didn’t you search her room? She always leaves it in there and uses her mobile when she’s out.”

  “Where?” Caslin asked.

  “I’ll show you,” Lottie offered, leading them back inside.

  Once they had access to Natalie’s dorm room, Lottie swiftly retrieved the laptop from the top of the wardrobe, stashed beneath a board game and an old blanket. Bearing in mind the security doors and the locks to her private room, Caslin pondered the need for such concealment. As if reading his mind, Lottie responded.

  “It’s not only hidden from the other students, although they’re well bad for stealing things from you. She didn’t want her parents to see it, either.”

  “Why ever not?” Hunter asked.

  Lottie shrugged, “She was always secretive about it, I don’t know why.”

  “But you knew?” Caslin asked.

  “There’s not much I don’t know.”

  “Then tell me about Stuart.”

  “Not my type,” Lottie said, flashing him a smile. “Too old. Natalie was drawn to his sort, though. I think she likes the challenge.”

  “What is it about Stuart that’s challenging?”

  “There’s an edge to him but I didn’t like it. I’ll bet he’ll never amount to anything, all tattoos and partying. That’s fun for a while but I want a bit more.”

  “Natalie?” Caslin pursued.

  “Probably trying to piss her parents off, I expect.” Lottie offered. “There’s a lot of that about. I never saw him as being long-term, for her.”

  Caslin thought about his own daughter and prayed that she wouldn’t adopt a similar strategy in a few years” time. He opened the laptop and turned it on. Within moments the log in screen came up, he had been afraid of that.

  “Do Natalie’s parents know about Stuart?” Caslin asked, expecting her answer to confirm what he already knew.

  “No way!” Lottie stated, emphatically. Caslin was grateful that the Bermond’s had been on the level about something, at least. “They would go mental, if they did. She would’ve told me.”

  “Better get this to the tech guys,” Caslin said regrettably, looking at the password request.
r />   Lottie laughed, “Why, because of her password?” She seemed incredulous.

  “Well, do you know it?” Caslin asked pointedly.

  “They don’t teach you much at police school, do they?” Lottie said, stepping in front of him and reaching for the keyboard. She used the glidepad to reboot the laptop. When the machine began its start-up sequence she held down the shift and a function key, halting the process and moving it into a different set-up screen. Caslin was curious. Looking to Hunter, he silently mouthed the words police school. Hunter smiled before both refocused their attention on Lottie. Caslin watched as she highlighted a command that stated “Delete all users” and double tapped the glidepad. “It’s so easy, I don’t know why they bother with the security features,” Lottie said aloud, almost to herself.

  Within moments the laptop was up and running. The desktop background was a picture of Natalie, her arms draped around a tattooed male, appearing to be a number of years older than her. Caslin guessed him to be well into his thirties. He wore a vest and the body art that they could see decorated both arms, his upper chest and ran up the side of the neck, to his ear. He was muscular with a well-lined face, sporting a closely cropped beard and long black hair, tied into a pony tail. He bore a scar above the left eyebrow, running down and away from his eye, roughly two inches in length.

  “This is Stuart?” Caslin asked Lottie. She nodded. “Looks like a catch.”

  “You can step aside now, Lottie,” Hunter said. She did as requested and Hunter took over the search. There was a folder containing multiple pictures of the couple and several dozen media files that she chose not to open at that time. Caslin guided Lottie out into the corridor and checked they weren’t within earshot of anyone nearby.

  “Is there anything else that you’re not telling us?” he asked. “This is serious and we can’t afford to waste any more time.”

  “No, I can’t think of anything. I promise,” she emphasised the last, to assure him that she was being truthful. “It’s just that we agreed never to-”

  “I get that but you’ve slowed us down. This might be significant and I hope for your sake it doesn’t cost Natalie. It’s about time you grew up a bit. You’re not in the playground anymore.”

  Lottie’s reaction demonstrated that she acknowledged her poor judgement. Caslin thought that, with hindsight, he was a little harsh on her but needed to convey the gravity of her choices. That way, next time she would be more forthcoming.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  Caslin pushed one of his contact cards into her hand, “If you think of anything else, I expect you to call me immediately. Do you understand?”

  With that he excused her and she left. He returned to Natalie’s room.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Hunter said as he entered.

  “Why, what have you got? The identity of the secret boyfriend?”

  “No, not yet but she’s quite the little vlogger, our Natalie,” Hunter said, glancing up at him. “Vlogging is when you-”

  “I know what vlogging is,” Caslin cut her off. “People videoing themselves, banging on about something or other. It’s like writing shit about fuck all, isn’t good enough anymore. What’s her subject matter?”

  “Well, her blogspot is subtitled “Lies, deception and the secrets we keep”. I can’t wait to explore what it is she has to say.”

  Caslin blew out his cheeks, “Strewth, what is it with this bloody family. Come on, let’s take it back to Fulford and see what we can find.”

  Chapter 12

  The squad room was relatively quiet. The lateness of the hour, coupled with the base of operations largely relocating to the Bermond’s home in Harrogate were the contributing factors. Caslin passed through towards his office, spotting Terry Holt at his desk in the corner. The DC was hunched over and for a moment Caslin considered he had succumbed to fatigue. Crossing the room, he caught a glimpse of a photo on his desk.

  “Keeping you up, Terry,” he called out. Much to his surprise, Holt looked around, bright-eyed and attentive.

  “Not at all, Sir,” Holt stated. “I was just mulling things over.”

  “Have you been seconded to the Bermond investigation as well, then?”

  “No, Sir,” Holt said, visibly confused.

  “What are you doing with a photo of Natalie, then?”

  “What?” Holt replied, looking at his desk. “This is the one Suzanne Brooke gave me.”

  Caslin was surprised by his own error. Leaning forward he took another look, rightly enough it wasn’t Natalie. At first glance it was an easy mistake to make.

  “Frank Stephens about today?” Caslin asked after the DCI.

  Holt shook his head, “Not this afternoon. He’s in court on that Mitchell fraud-case.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot,” Caslin said. “How are you getting on with Summerbee and his business affairs?”

  “Looks on the level, so far. He’s filed everything on time, not missed any payments to Inland Revenue or the VAT man.”

  “Keep on it.”

  Caslin left Holt and went to his office. Sitting down he opened the folders on his desk and reviewed Iain Robertson’s findings on Natalie’s hatchback, found on Fountain’s Lane. As expected they had no forensic evidence to indicate a struggle or anything to suggest that she had been taken ill in the vehicle. To all intents and purposes, the car had been parked in an orderly fashion. No personal belongings had been found inside. The fact it was left unlocked was all that stood out as unusual. The tyre patterns Robertson found at the scene were sufficiently detailed to enable identification of a brand and not only that, they were relatively new, judging by the tread depth. Bearing in mind the size, the initial hypothesis of them belonging to an SUV or similar was reasonable. Robertson stated with high probability that a positive tyre match could be made, should a suspect be found.

  “We need a suspect,” he said quietly to himself.

  “I might be able to help you with that,” Hunter said from the doorway. So engrossed was he that he failed to notice her arrival. “I think I’ve identified Stuart.”

  “Good,” Caslin said, sitting forward in his chair, excited at the prospect a tangible lead. “Who is he?”

  “Stuart Nicol,” Hunter said, walking in and passing an open file to Caslin. Immediately he recognised the face in the mugshot as that on Natalie’s laptop. “He’s a real charmer. Not a stranger to us, with three prior arrests for Grievous Bodily Harm but none of them stuck. He served two years for demanding money with menaces.”

  “Where was that?” Caslin asked absently, scanning the file before him.

  “Up in Glasgow. He was released on licence four years ago. That was his last known address. Current whereabouts are unknown.”

  “I see he has a weapons conviction here,” Caslin said.

  “Yes, when he was sixteen he spent twelve months in young offenders, convicted of carrying a knife with intent to wound.”

  “Do we know what car he drives?” Caslin asked.

  “Nothing registered to him with the DVLA.”

  Caslin was disappointed but figured that wasn’t a surprise, “Must be every parent’s dream to have him dating your daughter.”

  “Lottie was right though, the parents probably wouldn’t be too keen, if they had known. Kidnapping would be one hell of a step up for him, though. I’m not convinced he has the intelligence to pull it off.”

  “Never underestimate someone’s capacity to convince themselves of their own greatness.”

  “He’s been seeing her for some time. Do you think he’d wait this long to pull a stunt like this?”

  Caslin considered that point. Perhaps Nicol had been playing the long game, assessing what he would gain and waiting for the right time. “Maybe, I don’t know. Hell, Natalie may have decided to kick him into touch and he thought, why not? It might explain the absence of a struggle. What have you got from the laptop?”

  “I’ve left it with the tech guys, they’re giving it
the once over now,” Hunter said. “I’ll follow up as soon as we’re done here.”

  “If we don’t have intel on Nicol’s whereabouts, I guess there’s nothing in the system on his hangouts. What about known associates?”

  Hunter shook her head, “Nothing local to tie him to. We don’t even know why he’s in our area.” Caslin sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “You look like crap, Sir, if you don’t mind me saying? When did you last sleep?”

  Caslin shrugged off the question, “Can you get me a copy of the photo, Catherine gave you of Natalie, plus another of this little gem?” he indicated Stuart Nicol. “Lottie gave us a nightclub and a couple of pubs where they tend to hang out. I’ll stop by tonight and see what I can get out of them.”

  Hunter nodded and left the office. Sitting in the silence that followed he considered closing his eyes but thought better of it. Thinking about his route for the evening, he would start with a visit to the Kings Arms, which he knew to be a decent pub. The clientele was predominantly from the university and it was a nice enough place, causing little trouble. The landlord was upstanding and would assist if he could. The club was Angels and Ice, somewhere to go when most elsewhere had shut their doors. The other pub, Lottie had described, was the Cloaked Beggar. That place was altogether another story and probably where Nicol would feel most at home.

  Hunter returned with copies of the photographs, handing them over with a smile.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

  Caslin shook his head, “If you’re that desperate for a date, Holt’s looking a bit lonely these days.” Hunter glanced through the window and saw Terry Holt, slyly leafing through his racing paper, attempting to look like he was hard at it.

  “No, I’m not that desperate,” she smiled, turning to leave. Reaching the doorway, she stopped and looked over her shoulder, “Oh and Sir,” Caslin looked up, “don’t flatter yourself.”

  Caslin laughed, “Let me know if you get anything useful from that laptop.”

  “I will.”

  Caslin looked at the clock on the wall of the squad room, it read 18:24. Deciding to head out, he told Terry Holt to go home and get some sleep, after first dropping him off in the city centre. A grateful DC didn’t object and Caslin was within the city walls twenty minutes later. The Kings Arms pub was on the banks of the Ouse, well below street level. Caslin trotted down the flight of stone steps from the bridge above, negotiating a group of early revellers as they stumbled up. Being clement, the pub’s vast numbers of patrons were enjoying the evening, sitting on the quayside. The days of canal boats shipping goods to the warehouses opposite were long gone and the buildings themselves were now flash apartments with a river view.