Picture Her Dead (Rhona Macleod)

by Lin Anderson

  ‘I still don’t see what this has to do with the material on my client’s yacht?’

  Bill ignored the interruption and continued. ‘Many years ago Brian Foster was also the projectionist at a private club on St Vincent Street which showed violent pornographic films, shot locally. I think you suspected the film Jude found was one of those.’

  Nelson squirmed in his seat. Clearly he did not want to hear this.

  ‘When Jude discovered what the film depicted, she decided to give it to us rather than you. You weren’t happy about that, were you?’

  Nelson opened his mouth, then shut it again as his lawyer touched his arm.

  ‘One more thing before we take a break. Does the name Gavin MacLean mean anything to you?’

  59

  ‘They’re exactly the same.’

  Chrissy moved from her microscope to Rhona’s and back again to check.

  ‘It’s marine-grade dyed acrylic,’ Rhona told her. ‘UV-, water-and mildew-resistant. Used for awnings, outdoor furniture and boat tops. He wrapped the body in it.’

  A single fibre had been retrieved by Rhona from the basement cupboard, and Chrissy had found hers in the boot of Nelson’s car.

  ‘Plus leakage evidence from Jude’s body in both places. But that’s not all,’ Chrissy said triumphantly, producing an AFR report. ‘We have a match on the fingerprint I retrieved from the brick and, even better, a DNA result. Both belong to Nelson. Which means we could have him for more than just Jude.’

  ‘That just leaves Charlie.’

  ‘No sign of Jude in his car. But the vomit is there, and it matches Sally Murphy’s DNA sample.’

  Under new arrangements, provided Nelson had access to a lawyer, Bill could keep him there for twelve hours rather than six. But he would have to make up his mind soon what he planned to charge Nelson with.

  He was on safe ground with Section 34, but Bill wanted him for more than just that. Nelson had been furious when he’d brought up the subject of Brian Foster. It had been a shot in the dark but it had paid off.

  That’s why Nelson had been so keen to get that film; he knew if Jude found it in the Olympia, the chances were it was one from back then.

  Bill tried to picture what had happened that night. Had Jude angered Nelson by refusing to hand over the film? Or had he killed her because she told him she knew what was on it and intended giving it to the police?

  ‘Sir, Dr MacLeod is on the phone in the incident room. She says it’s urgent.’

  Bill listened to Rhona’s explanation of the trace evidence collected from the cinema and from Nelson’s car without interrupting, then said, ‘Nelson insists he was never inside the cinema.’

  ‘His print and DNA are both on the loose brick taken from the wall in the projection suite.’

  ‘Nelson replaced that brick?’

  ‘That’s my guess, yes.’

  Everything began to fall into place. Nelson arriving at the cinema, finding Jude in the usherettes’ room; maybe she’d mentioned the smell or had been trying to extract the brick.

  Nelson had been expecting to collect the film reel from her, but had suddenly found himself with a much bigger problem. Once Jude made up her mind to do something, she did it, and Nelson got aggressive when he didn’t get his own way. The result that night had been the violent murder of a young girl.

  There was still something he needed to check.

  ‘What about the bag? Is he on that?’ Bill said.

  ‘He is, and so is Jason.’

  Nelson had been at the Rosevale on Wednesday night, just as he’d said. But he’d been there to remove Jude’s body, not to meet her for the first time.

  Unfortunately for Nelson, Jason had chosen the same night to bring Abi in for a session on the loveseats. Nelson must have heard them and fled, leaving the bag behind – just as Jason had described.

  Bill thanked Rhona and put the phone down. Around him the incident room waited in silence. Bill was sure the expression on his face told them all they needed to know, but he said it anyway: ‘We have him.’

  60

  ‘There’s no record of the laptop being advertised on eBay,’ DS Clark told Bill. ‘Charlie’s lying about that.’

  ‘Surely he would have known we would check?’

  ‘Most people have no idea how eBay works unless they’ve used it themselves. Probably he just said it because he couldn’t think of anything else at that moment. A few years ago, he would have said a car-boot sale.’

  ‘He took the laptop from her room and tried to scrub out the initials.’

  ‘Looks like it, Sir.’

  ‘Chances are he took the reel of film, then.’

  ‘Stealing the film would make it look less like an inside job,’ agreed Janice.

  ‘And it would also link the robbery to Jude’s disappearance.’

  Charlie might not be up to date on eBay transactions but he had a devious enough mind.

  ‘I think I’ll have another wee word with our friendly warden.’

  Charlie was busy talking to a female student, as attentive and grandfatherly as ever. When he spotted Bill he smiled and said goodbye to her.

  ‘OK,’ said Charlie as he settled himself into a chair. ‘What can I do you for this time, DI Wilson?’

  ‘I’ve come for the film.’

  Charlie looked startled. ‘I don’t have any film.’

  ‘I think you do. I think you took it along with the laptop.’

  ‘I wouldn’t—’

  ‘There’s no record of the laptop sale on eBay.’

  Charlie shrugged. ‘I should have said I bought it at the Barras.’

  ‘Jude’s dead, Charlie. We’re certain of that now.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, son.’

  ‘You don’t sound surprised?’

  ‘A lassie disappears. The police get involved. It doesn’t look good.’ He shook his head sadly.

  ‘I talked to Sally Murphy,’ Bill continued.

  ‘What’s she been saying now?’

  ‘That you gave her a lift, then jumped on her.’

  Charlie huffed in disbelief. ‘These lassies, drinking too much, taking drugs. They don’t know what they’re doing half the time.’

  ‘So you never gave Sally a lift?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Vomit’s a hard thing to get rid of, even for a man who cleans his car as well as you do.’

  There was a long silence. Charlie looked more thoughtful than worried.

  ‘So what happens now, Detective Inspector?’

  ‘You give me the film.’

  ‘Or?’

  ‘Sally’s in two minds about taking you to court, but she’s concerned about you working here and using your keys to let yourself into other girls’ rooms.’

  Charlie sat bolt upright. ‘You’re threatening my job?’

  ‘Oh, you’re leaving your job. Question is: do you leave quietly, or do I charge you with sexual assault?’

  ‘And this all depends on you locating this film?’

  Bill nodded slowly.

  Charlie shrugged. ‘Funny what you find lying around.’ He opened a drawer and took out a reel of film. ‘Is this what you’re looking for?’

  Bill took it and rose. ‘I suggest you have your resignation ready, Charlie. One more thing. We have your DNA on the database now. So any complaints from the girls …’

  ‘The DNA sample won’t stay on there if I’m not charged with anything. You know that as well as I do.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll be charged. For stealing a laptop and film reel from the room of a student in the Hall of Residence, while working here as a warden.’

  Charlie met his gaze steadily. ‘Can I have my car back now, DI Wilson?’

  Bill called Liam’s mobile from outside the building. It went to voicemail, but as soon as Bill hung up after leaving his message Liam called back.

  ‘Who is this?’ he said.

  ‘Liam, it’s Detective Inspector Wilson.’

  Ther
e was a short silence. ‘I know about Jude. Rhona told me.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘At my flat.’

  ‘Can you meet me, perhaps at your nearest pub? Aurora and Ben too, if you can reach them.’

  Liam considered this. ‘It’s the Stravaigin, on Gibson Street.’

  ‘I’ll be there, waiting for you.’

  Gibson Street had changed a lot in the last ten years. If Lisa had chosen Glasgow University she might have been living in a flat near here, Bill thought as he parked the car. But she had wanted to go further afield. Away from her dad and his fussing, no doubt. It could be worse, though – his daughter could have headed north to Aberdeen, or to one of the southern universities. At least Edinburgh was only an hour away.

  He located the Stravaigin and ordered a pint of shandy, choosing to sit upstairs where it was quiet. While he waited, he worked out what he wanted to say to the three young people.

  Thank you. That was it, really. Thank you for not giving up. And sorry that you couldn’t save her. It wasn’t much, but it needed to be said.

  They arrived soon after, clutching their drinks as they climbed the narrow staircase. Liam had to duck to avoid a cross beam as he headed towards the corner table Bill had chosen. Rhona’s son was as tall as his father, thought Bill, but he didn’t have Edward’s temperament, that was for sure.

  Bill stood and offered his hand to each of them in turn. The solemn gesture surprised them, but he didn’t think it caused embarrassment. Bill waited until they were settled before speaking.

  ‘We’ve charged someone with Jude’s murder.’

  ‘Who?’ said Liam.

  ‘A man called Nelson.’

  ‘The one Jude was going to meet about the film?’ Aurora said.

  ‘Yes, you remembering about Nelson really helped.’ He turned to Ben and Liam. ‘The Mulligan twins led us to Nelson too, and even further. We believe Nelson also knows something about the body in the projection room.’

  ‘Wow!’ Ben looked stunned.

  ‘I wanted to thank you all. For Jude’s sake.’

  Liam looked down, emotion contorting his face. Aurora slipped her hand over his.

  ‘What about her body?’ he asked, his voice choked.

  ‘We haven’t located it yet. We believe he may have dumped it at sea.’

  ‘So it might never turn up?’

  ‘In my experience the sea gives things back eventually.’ Bill knew it was a platitude, but it was also the truth.

  ‘I spoke to the Art School,’ Aurora told them. ‘They’re going to put on a special exhibition of Jude’s “Cinema City” project.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that,’ said Bill warmly. ‘I ought to warn you that you’ll all have to give statements, and appear as witnesses in court.’

  If he’d been concerned that they might take fright at this, he was pleasantly surprised; they all nodded eagerly, seeming almost pleased at the prospect.

  ‘Your role in apprehending Nelson has been invaluable, and I wanted you to know that,’ he told them.

  Later, arriving at home, Bill slipped his key in the lock. From within he could hear the voices of those he loved, alive and well. He closed his eyes and said a brief prayer of thanks before opening the door.

  61

  Rhona hesitated on the steps of the Jazz Club. She would rather have celebrated their success with Bill and his team in the pub as usual, but Bill had chosen to go home.

  ‘If I don’t, Margaret will forget who I am. I’d take Chrissy up on her offer. Go to the Jazz Club.’ He’d given Rhona a look she couldn’t quite read.

  Chrissy would be in there now, waiting, and it wasn’t much to ask. Chrissy was more than just an excellent forensic assistant. She was a very good friend.

  Rhona headed downstairs, making a mental note not to drink too much this time, and not to succumb to any sweet talking from Sean Maguire.

  She was surprised to find the place buzzing until she realised it was Friday night; a time when sensible people forgot about work and got down to the business of enjoying themselves. That was something she’d almost forgotten how to do.

  ‘Hey,’ said Chrissy.

  ‘Hey yourself.’

  ‘Thought you might chicken out. There’s a special bottle of wine set aside in anticipation of your arrival.’ Chrissy grinned, delighted. ‘Courtesy of the management.’

  ‘Red, no doubt?’

  ‘No. White.’

  Now there was a surprise.

  The chilled bottle appeared, was opened and a glass poured for her. Rhona took a sip. It was good.

  ‘Sean and Sam are about to take to the stage,’ Chrissy told her.

  That’s good too, Rhona thought. Better on stage, than here with me.

  Chrissy was still beaming at her.

  ‘What?’

  She shook her head and pressed her lips together.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not allowed to say.’

  ‘Someone told you a secret and expected you to keep it?’

  ‘Just drink your wine, sit back and enjoy the music.’

  The crowd erupted in applause as Sean and Sam stepped on stage. Sean looked over at the bar, spotting her and smiling when she raised her glass to him. Sam began his introduction and the crowd fell silent. Rhona recognised the tune almost immediately; it was ‘Misty’, one of her favourites. Sean had often played it to her.

  OK, she thought, I’m being set up for something here.

  They played four more. Jazzy but tuneful, although she couldn’t have put a name to them. When the applause died down on the last one, the two men left the stage. Rhona had assumed Sean would come over to talk to her and was surprised when he didn’t.

  Sam greeted her affectionately and accepted her praise for his playing with his usual modesty.

  ‘He plays “Misty” at home,’ Chrissy told her. ‘It puts Michael to sleep.’

  Maybe the track hadn’t been meant for her after all. Rhona was surprised to find herself disappointed.

  ‘Sean wants a word. In private,’ Sam said, suddenly serious.

  Rhona looked over at Chrissy and arched an eyebrow.

  ‘Is this the surprise?’ she said when Chrissy wasn’t forthcoming.

  ‘You could call it that.’

  Curiosity got the better of her. Rhona finished what was left in her glass and set it on the counter before heading over to Sean’s office and pushing open the door. A small desk light was on, but apart from that the room was in shadow. Rhona reached for the main light switch.

  ‘Better not, or I’ll have to put on my sunglasses – I’ve not seen daylight for a while.’

  Rhona’s heart jumped into her mouth as McNab stepped out of the shadows. Behind him she could make out a camp bed, and suddenly she realised what this was all about.

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Since Petersson let me go.’

  He came a little closer, but she still couldn’t make out his face.

  ‘Sean let me stay. No questions asked.’

  ‘I would never have thought to look for you here.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  His face looked as though it had been stepped on hard and frequently. He raised his hand as though to shield her from it, and she saw that three of his fingers were in splints.

  ‘You’re back to being ginger,’ she said, because she couldn’t bear to mention the injuries.

  ‘Red’s all the rage,’ he joked. Seeing her concern, he waved his left hand. The fingers were dark with bruising but they hadn’t been broken. ‘I can still beat you at snooker.’

  ‘What about poker?’

  ‘I think I’ll give poker a miss for a while.’

  There was so much to ask, but Rhona knew he didn’t want her to.

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘You go out there and enjoy your night. I head south. We meet in court as promised.’

  Rhona wondered how he was getting to London, but it was best
for him if nobody knew. Was he going to be safe?

  ‘Petersson had a daughter,’ she began. ‘That’s why—’

  ‘It’s OK. I know.’

  She reached up and touched his cheek.

  ‘He’s a good guy, your Sean.’

  ‘He’s not my Sean,’ she corrected him.

  He smiled. ‘Rhona MacLeod doesn’t belong to anyone but herself.’

  ‘Just like Detective Sergeant Michael Joseph McNab.’

  She walked back to the bar where Sean was waiting. He handed her her topped-up glass.

  ‘OK?’

  ‘Better than OK.’

  62

  Sandy looked pleased with himself as he ran Bill through his findings.

  ‘I isolated eight individual facial images. With a little help from an ageing programme, I came up with six matches on the sex offenders’ database. Three had convictions for paedophile activity and the others were picked up for various sexual offences including male rape. The other two we’re checking against the names you gave us.’

  Bill nodded and motioned for him to continue.

  ‘Location was also interesting. I compared the background to the images you supplied me from the MacLean case. I would swear it’s the same room. Digitally converted, the wallpaper and curtains on the four-poster bed look the same.’

  ‘In which film?’

  ‘The old reel the girl found.’

  ‘But it’s in black and white?’

  ‘Yeah, but the patterns are very distinctive. Add appropriate colour to the digital representation and it’s the same place. There’s other things too. Cornices, for example. Intricate and easily distinguishable one from the other. This one has a coat of arms woven into the pattern. Before digital photography it would have been impossible to blow it up enough to see that. Not any more.’

  ‘You’re saying shots in the Olympia film were taken in that room?’

  ‘I am. There’s other material too. Photographs from Nelson’s collection, and another film, all shot in the same room. I take it you know where this room is?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then someone died in that room.’

  Bill had watched the film, or the digital version of it. He’d chosen to do it in the company of his team, as he wanted them to know just what they were dealing with. One guy had had to leave the room. DS Clark had soldiered on, but it hadn’t been easy for any of them.