Stranglehold

by Rena George

  'You're saying Angus McLeod murdered the banker?'

  'Yes,' Drummond said grimly. 'I'm saying that's exactly what happened. Angus McLeod's murderous career started long before he moved to Inverness.'

  Rougvie sighed. 'It's all circumstantial. How do we prove it?'

  'That's up to your mate, Sergeant Mackenzie, but Angus has to be his number one suspect.'

  The Rev Murdo McLeod and his housekeeper, Sarah Duff, lived in a cottage high on the hill above the town. It was a traditional West Highland croft, but in a state of serious disrepair. Drummond glanced at the unkempt garden as he and Rougvie approached the shabby black-painted front door.

  'I'm not sure we should be here under the circumstances,' Rougvie muttered under his breath.

  Drummond gave an innocent shrug. 'Emily Ross was his son's stepdaughter. Maybe she confided in him.'

  Rougvie rolled his eyes. 'Yeah and watch out for the flying piglets.'

  Drummond grinned at him. 'You worry too much, Nick,' he said, raising his hand to knock on the door. Grubby net curtains twitched as they waited. It took a second knock before the door slowly opened and a cross-looking face poked out at them.

  'We don't make purchases from uninvited callers,' the old woman snapped. 'Go away.'

  'We're police officers. It's about Emily Ross, Angus McLeod's stepdaughter.'

  The woman's suspicious grey eyes moved from one to the other. 'What's this got to do with us?'

  'We would like to have a word with the Reverend McLeod.' Drummond smiled. 'If he could spare us a moment.'

  'Let them in, Sarah,' a rasping voice from inside the cottage ordered.

  The woman narrowed her eyes, still not sure she was doing the right thing, but she stepped aside and let the two officers pass. The place was a tip. If Sarah Duff's role here was as housekeeper, she wasn't very good at her job.

  The kitchen was big and untidy, but dishes had been washed and were stacked, however untidily, on the drainer. A wizened old man, in a stained grey woollen cardigan, sat in a high-backed chair by the fire. 'What about my son?' he growled at them.

  Drummond cleared his throat. 'We're investigating the murder of your son, Angus's, stepdaughter, Emily Ross.'

  'Never heard of her,' the old man snapped.

  Drummond blinked. 'You've never heard of Emily? Is your son not in touch with you, sir?'

  Sarah Duff stepped in front of him and twitched her black shawl around her thin shoulders. 'Angus never comes here,' she said. 'He doesn't bother with us these days.'

  'And that's fine by us.' Murdo McLeod spat out the words. 'If the boy chooses to live his life as he does, we want no more to do with him.'

  'Ungrateful brat,' Sarah hissed out of the side of her mouth. 'And after all you did for him, Murdo.'

  'Hold your tongue, woman,' the old man snapped. 'You have too much to say for yourself.'

  'I says it as I find it and nobody can tell me different.'

  Drummond looked away and caught Rougvie's look of amusement.

  'Well, if that's all you came to find out we won't be keeping you,' Murdo McLeod's rasping voice said.

  But Drummond wasn't going to be dismissed that easily. 'Does that mean you have no contact with your grandchildren?'

  'Grandchildren? What grandchildren? I've met no grandchildren.'

  'You have three grandchildren, Mr McLeod, and another on the way. Angus never told you?' Drummond was incredulous.

  'He didn't say that.' Sarah Duff thrust her face in front of Drummond's. 'We know about the bairns, but their father has never seen fit to bring them here.'

  'And Angus has never mentioned his stepdaughter, Emily?' Rougvie asked.

  'You've been told everything you need to know,' the old man hissed. 'I'll ask you to be on your way now.'

  'When was the last time you saw your son, Mr McLeod?' Drummond persisted.

  The minister's old eyes were staring into the glowing embers of the fire. Neither he nor Sarah appeared to notice the amount of ash that had spread untended over the black-tiled hearth. It was like he was seeing into the past. 'He brought his woman here years ago…wanted me to marry them.' He shook his head. 'Think on that. He dared to think I would welcome such a woman into our church.'

  Drummond frowned. 'What kind of woman was that, Mr McLeod?'

  It was Sarah who answered. 'A sinful unmarried woman with a child.' Her lip curled in a distasteful sneer. 'That's what kind of woman Angus was bringing into the family.'

  Out of the corner of his eye Drummond was aware that Rougvie was staring at the woman in disbelief. He opened his mouth to remonstrate but Drummond made a gesture to silence him. What was the point in even engaging with such bigotry when the people involved had such closed minds?

  Drummond turned, signalling to Rougvie that they were leaving. 'Thank you for your time, sir,' he said curtly. It was a struggle to keep the anger from his voice. The old man didn't take his eyes from the fire as Sarah followed them out. She opened the front door and stood back as they left. Drummond saw her glance back into the cottage as she lowered her voice. 'Angus's mother, Mary Ann, you might try looking for her and her fancy man. Funny how nobody's heard of them since they were found out.'

  Drummond spun round. 'Mary Ann and James Shaw?' He fixed her with a hard stare. 'What about them? What do you know?'

  Sarah pulled the old shawl tight around her and made another furtive glance back into the cottage. 'Ask Angus,' she said before closing the door in their faces.

  'Well,' Rougvie said. 'What d'you make of that? Is she suggesting Angus McLeod did something to his mother and her boyfriend?'

  But Drummond was silent. He didn't like the feeling that was growing inside him.

  Thirty-One

  Drummond's mobile phone rang as they got back to the car. It was Joey Buchan. He tapped the screen. 'Yes, boss?'

  'We've got him, Jack! We've got the strangler.'

  Drummond flinched as Joey's excited words hit him. 'You've got him?' He could hear his voice rising. This wasn't the way it should have happened. If they really had caught Angus McLeod, he should have been happy about it. Surely the important thing was to get him off the streets before he could harm another woman. But something was sticking in his craw. McLeod was his man. It should have been him who made that collar.

  He swallowed. 'How did you catch him?' He tried to hide that he was struggling for words.

  'We're waiting for DNA results, but it's him, Jack. I can feel it in my water.' He could hear the eagerness in her voice. 'I know, I can hardly believe it too. But we have him in custody. I'm going down to interview him now.'

  'So, you're in Inverness?' Drummond was surprised. The magnitude of what he was hearing still hadn't sunk in.

  'Inverness? What? No. He's here in Glasgow.' She paused. 'Ah, I see. You think it's your suspect up there, well it's not. You were wrong, Jack. Your Wee Free Church man had nothing to do with this.' He heard her laugh. 'You'll never believe this, but he walked into the station. Joanna Flugg was here being interviewed and she recognized him.' There was second of charged silence. 'He's a solicitor, Jack,' she said. 'He was here to interview a client. He almost dropped dead when Joanna stepped out of the interview room in front of him. She went crazy, jabbing a finger in his face and screaming he was the one…he was the man who'd attacked her.'

  Drummond was stunned into silence.

  'You know what this means, don't you?' she said.

  'What?' Drummond felt his skin tingle.

  She laughed, hardly able to contain her delight. 'It means you can get yourself back down here…like pronto!'

  Rougvie was staring at him.

  'It's not him,' Drummond said. 'They think they've got the strangler and it's not Angus McLeod.'

  Rougvie frowned. 'Not McLeod?'

  Drummond's hands went to his head, the tips of his fingers working his temples. 'They've got somebody else in the frame.'

  'Are they sure?'

  'They're waiting for a DNA match. Apparentl
y Joanna Flugg, has identified him.'

  'So, what about McLeod?'

  Drummond threw his head back and blew out his cheeks. 'McLeod is a wrong 'un Nick. He killed Alan Rogers, I'm sure of it - and that father of his helped him. What was it the old witch of a housekeeper said – "after all you did for him"? What was it he did for him?'

  'We can't get involved in this, Jack. There's no proof to back up what you're suggesting, quite apart from the fact that it's way out of our remit to get involved. We need to leave this to Michael.'

  But Drummond was thinking of Sarah Duff's caustic remarks as they left Murdo McLeod's cottage. Was she attempting to thrust Angus into the frame for something they didn't even know had happened? Or was it just a bitter old woman trying to cause trouble?

  'Let's see what your pal, Sergeant Mac, has to say about this.'

  Michael Macintosh greeted them with a cheery grin as they walked into the police station. Drummond wondered if Nick's pal would still have such a broad smile when he shared what he'd come to say. 'Kettle's on,' Mac said, leading the two detectives to a back room.

  Drummond watched the man pour boiling water onto the instant coffee in three white mugs. He would have preferred a stiff whisky but guessed there was no chance of that.

  'We've been up to see Murdo McLeod and his housekeeper,' Drummond said.

  Mac passed him a mug and smiled. 'No doubt they rolled out the red carpet.'

  Drummond wrinkled his forehead. 'How did you guess?'

  'They're a queer old couple. Do you have much to do with them?' Rougvie asked.

  'No, they keep themselves to themselves. They don't even attend church these days.'

  'Don't you think that's odd?' Drummond asked.

  'They're an odd couple. The old woman comes out first thing in the morning to buy what provisions they need. Most people know to steer clear of her. She's not exactly sociable.'

  'We've been having a look at that Alan Rogers file and there's a few things that struck us as unusual,' Drummond said. There was no point beating about the bush.

  'Like what?' Mac frowned at them.

  Drummond put the file on the table and opened it, spreading out the photographs. 'Notice anything odd about the scene?'

  Mac studied the pictures, picking one up for a closer look.

  His brow creased. 'I'm sorry. What is it I'm supposed to be seeing? This case is more than twenty years old and way before my time. Alan Rogers committed suicide. It's here in black and white.'

  'But is it? Think outside the box, Mac,' Rougvie said, moving closer to look over his friend's shoulder.

  Drummond waited, avoiding the urge to point out the anomaly. Mac's head suddenly jerked up, looking from one to the other. 'The beam's too high. Even if Rogers stood on that chair, he couldn't have done it.'

  'Give the man a prize,' Drummond said. 'Rogers didn't end his own life. Somebody did it for him.'

  Mac was still staring at the photo. 'You're not suggesting this was deliberately overlooked by the investigating officer at the time?'

  'I've no idea,' Drummond said. 'I only know the case has to be reopened in view of this new evidence.'

  'I can run it past my superiors, but I'm making no promises.'

  'Just remember the Free Church minister's son, Angus McLeod, was staying with Rogers at the time and according to his own admission in his diary, he had tried to sexually abuse the boy.'

  Mac narrowed his eyes at him. 'Are you saying Angus McLeod murdered Alan Rogers?'

  Drummond shrugged. 'If he did, he had help. Whoever did murder the man would have needed a ladder to get up there to that beam.' He pulled a face, staring at the image. 'How did a young boy, as Angus would have been at that time, manage to carry a body up a ladder without help?'

  Mac rubbed a hand over his mouth, considering this.

  'The old minister is pretty bitter about how his son treats him. Apparently he has nothing to do with his father,' Rougvie said. 'His housekeeper, Sarah Duff, is very vocal about it. She's furious with Angus for treating his father like this, especially, as she says, after what Murdo did for him.'

  Mac swung round and stared at Rougvie. 'What did he do for Angus?'

  'That's what you have to find out,' Drummond chipped in. 'But if a teenage boy was going to kill his abuser, who do you think he would go to for help?'

  'His father,' Mac said slowly.

  'That would be our thinking,' Drummond said. 'But there's more. The housekeeper went out of her way to stir things up even more for Angus. She suggested we should investigate what happened to his mother. Apparently, Mary Ann and the innkeeper, James Shaw, have never been heard of since they left the town.'

  Mac held up a hand. 'Don't tell me. Sarah Duff is saying something sinister happened to them.'

  'More than that,' Rougvie said. 'She was hinting that Angus had something to do with the disappearance of his mother and her lover.'

  'Do you know if that was ever followed up?' Drummond asked.

  Mac raised his shoulders in a shrug. 'Again, all this was well before my time. I suppose I could have a look, but remember, Sarah Duff is a nasty, vindictive old wife. She's also completely nuts. We should take what she says with a very big pinch of salt.'

  Drummond nodded. 'It's still strange that nobody has heard from the couple after all this time. Shaw walked out on his pub, remember.'

  'He didn't own the business though,' Mac pointed out. 'It belonged to a brewery. James only managed the pub, but I will make enquiries.'

  'Can you keep in touch with us?' Drummond asked. 'I have to get back to Glasgow but Rougvie here will always be around.'

  Rougvie slanted a look at him and then turned back to Mac Mackenzie. He grinned. 'And if there are any problems, we'll get Jack to sort them out.'

  'I'll remember that.' Mac laughed, reaching out to shake their hands as they left to make their way to the ferry terminal.

  Thirty-Two

  Rougvie had dropped Drummond off at his car outside the River Inn. 'Let me know what happens with your suspect,' he said.

  'I'll ring as soon as he's charged,' Drummond promised, shaking the hand Rougvie offered. He stood for a minute watching the man drive off. Over the past few weeks they had become friends, an unexpected pairing, but Drummond knew he was going to miss Rougvie. He was itching to contact Joey Buchan for an update on that interview, but she beat him to it.

  'Tell me you're on your way back,' she said. The elation of the earlier call had gone. She sounded tired.

  'I'm driving as we speak,' he lied. 'How did the interview go?'

  Joey sighed. 'Frustrating. I was hoping for a nice easy confession after Joanna Flugg identified him, but he's saying nothing.'

  'What about the DNA match?'

  'I've requested a fast track on the results. We should have them later today.'

  'Who is this solicitor guy? Would I know him?'

  'James Mortimer Dalrymple, and you probably don't know him. He's newly qualified and just been taken on by that big firm in West Nile Street.'

  'He'll be sorted for representation then,' Drummond said, getting into his car.

  'No, he asked for the duty solicitor. Look, Jack, I need you here. What's your ETA?'

  Drummond cleared his throat. He should have told his DCI that he was only just setting off. His stupid lie had the potential to come back and smack him between the eyes.

  He'd also planned to pay Rachel McLeod a quick visit, even if only to assure himself that she was all right. It was ridiculous that he was being pressurized to get back to Glasgow, especially as he suspected the real reason Joey wanted him there was to boost her confidence when interviewing James Mortimer Dalrymple. 'I'm caught up in traffic. I think there might be an accident up ahead,' he said, cringing at yet another lie.

  'For Christ's sake, Jack. Just put the boot down and get yourself here.'

  'I'll do my best,' he said, but she had already cut off the call.

  There was an ambulance outside the McLeod's house. Drummond
cursed and rammed on his brakes. He was out of his car in seconds and charging across the road. Two paramedics were carrying Rachel out on a stretcher. Even from here he could see the blood on her face. Her eyes were closed. She wasn't moving.

  'What's happened?' Drummond flashed his ID at them.

  One of the medics nodded to a distraught-looking Mandy Stranger standing by the gate. 'Ask her. She's the one who made the call.' But the woman had already seen him and was hurrying forward. 'He did this…Angus. He tried to kill her. You have to arrest him!'

  'Where are the kiddies?' Drummond asked, his face tight with anger.

  Mandy nodded back to her house. 'My assistant, Shona's looking after the three of them. They'll be fine with her.' She switched her attention back to the ambulance. 'I should go with her.'

  Drummond nodded to the paramedics to allow her into the ambulance as he put his phone to his ear. 'Nick? It's Rachel McLeod. Angus has attacked her. It looks serious. She's on her way to hospital now. We need to find McLeod.'

  'OK, we're on it.' The authority in Rougvie's voice helped calm Drummond's rage.

  Mandy had turned back as she stepped into the ambulance, 'If you're looking for Angus, try his girlfriend.'

  'Girlfriend?' Drummond stared at her.

  'That's where he'll have gone,' she said. 'You'll find an address in a red box in my bureau. Rachel did a bit of detective work and tracked her down. She couldn't risk Angus knowing she'd found out about his other woman, so she gave me the address for safekeeping. Tell Shona I said you could take it.'

  Drummond could see the paramedic inside the ambulance working on Rachel as Mandy climbed in beside them and the doors closed. The vehicle took off at speed as he headed for Mandy's house. He recognized the young woman supervising the children's play from his previous visit. She looked up, surprised as Drummond walked in.