Stranglehold

by Rena George

  Chief Superintendent Salt was watching him. She sat back. 'We were expecting a reaction from you, Inspector, but just not that one. You have a wild temper. It will be your undoing unless you get it under control.'

  He swallowed. She was right, but his anger was as much against himself as McLeod. Emily had been so desperate to get away from the man that she subjected herself to the degradation of being a prostitute. He could feel the bile rise in his throat. She had called herself Evie and she'd come to him for help. And he had let her down! He should have been more patient, encouraged her to talk more. He should have coaxed all this background story out of her. But he hadn't. He'd thought giving the girl a roof over her head for a few days was enough. It hadn't been enough – and Emily had died. How could he not feel responsible?

  Drummond took a deep breath to steady himself and nodded. 'I'm fine,' he mumbled.

  The woman managed a stiff smile. 'Look, we can see how much this written confession has shocked and distressed you, but you must not let yourself become so involved. We expect you to do your job efficiently and now you must stand back and take stock of your actions.' She paused, still watching him.

  'We are not happy about how you conducted this interview with Angus McLeod and yes, maybe you do have to take some responsibility that he took his life. Perhaps he could see you would never stop pursuing him until the truth was out.' She shrugged. 'Perhaps the man felt taking his life was his only option. Who knows? It's still a fact that if he hadn't died in that cell we wouldn't now be in possession of this letter of confession.'

  She sat back in her chair with a sigh. 'A prisoner taking his life in a police cell is a serious business, DI Drummond. We have considered this letter written by Angus McLeod. It's important and the contents will be investigated further.' She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. 'However, it does not absolve you of any blame for his death.'

  Drummond blinked, confused. He was still having trouble taking all this in. 'You're saying it's my fault that Angus McLeod killed himself?'

  The woman nodded. 'You have to take some of the responsibility for what's happened.' She paused, meeting his eyes. 'We can't allow you to resume your duties here as though nothing had happened. Angus McLeod took his own life in that cell. Granted you were not the one who gave him the pen he used on his wrists. We will deal with that officer separately and there are others who must share responsibility for what's happened.'

  Drummond's heart was in his shoes. So, this was it, they really were going to drum him out of the Force. He was aware she was watching him, but he couldn't meet her gaze.

  'Is my dismissal immediate?' he said.

  Monica Salt took her time. 'There will be no dismissal, DI Drummond, but my report will recommend you be transferred to another station outside Glasgow. I will suggest that should be Inverness as you have already done some work up there.'

  'What!' Drummond shot bolt upright. 'You want to banish me to the Highlands?' Why didn't she just order his dismissal and be done with it? Dozying around Inverness dealing with low-level crime might suit Nick Rougvie, but it wouldn't do for him.

  Her words had hit Drummond like a cannonball between the eyes. His whole purpose of being a copper was to do his part in cleaning up the streets of Glasgow. Nothing else mattered. They might as well drum him out of the Force altogether.

  Monica Salt was meeting his hard stare. 'I can see that doesn't meet with your approval, but it's where we're at.' She put down the pen she'd been twiddling in her fingers. 'We have no reason to believe that if you found yourself in a similar situation with another suspect you wouldn't behave in exactly the same way.'

  'Angus McLeod murdered his stepdaughter. I was right. And now we know he killed the others,' Drummond said.

  'That's true,' Monica Salt agreed. 'But at the time you didn't know any of that. You bullied that man, Drummond, and he took his own life in a police cell.' She picked up her pen and began twiddling it again.

  'But Inverness, Ma'am? What good could I do up there?'

  She gave him a slow smile. 'It's not a crime-free zone, Inspector. You've already had some experience of that, but I accept it will be different.' She sighed. 'Look, I think your career will benefit from you being taken off the streets of Glasgow. Of course, you don't have to accept this, the choice is yours.'

  'You mean I could resign?'

  She put her hands up. 'That's up to you, but I hope it won't come to that. You're a good officer, DI Drummond. You just need to calm down a bit.'

  Drummond's legs shook as he stood up and left the room. So, he was to be thrown to the dogs after all!

  Forty

  He was still shaking when he passed DCI Buchan's office. She waved him in. 'Shut the door,' she ordered. 'I want to know everything.'

  The muscles in Drummond's jaw tensed. 'Not a lot to say.’ He paused. 'I've been shafted and now they want rid of me.’

  Joey looked genuinely shocked. 'They fired you? Why the hell did they do that?'

  'They haven't exactly fired me, just encouraged me to jump.'

  'You're talking in riddles, Jack,' she said. 'Just tell me what happened.'

  Drummond pulled out a chair and slumped onto it. 'There was a letter, a nice long letter from our friend Angus, in which he confessed to murdering Emily, his mother and her boyfriend, and an old banker in Stornoway who liked to fiddle with wee boys.'

  'McLeod was a serial killer?' Joey stared at him. 'And he murdered Emily?' Her voice was rising.

  Drummond nodded.

  'So, you were right all along.'

  He nodded again. 'Can you believe that bastard murdered all those people and didn't show one speck of remorse? He wrote as though he thought he was doing God's work, eliminating people who didn't live by his weird standards.'

  Joey went on staring at him. 'So, have you been dismissed or what?'

  'Transferred,' he said flatly.

  'Transferred?' She frowned. 'To where?'

  'It really doesn't matter because I won't be going. I've had enough, Joey. Police Scotland and I will be having a parting of the ways.'

  'You're resigning?' She stared at him. 'Don't be a bloody fool, Drummond. Why would you want to do that?'

  'I'm clearly not wanted around here, that's why.' He shook his head. 'Even though I was right about McLeod they still want rid of me.'

  'But that letter should have cleared you. Why are they suggesting a transfer?'

  'Apparently I'm insubordinate and don't obey orders.'

  'Well, they're right about that. You never could take orders and you're an awkward bugger when it suits you, but that doesn't explain why they want to transfer you.'

  'Might have had something to do with the way I kicked off and sent a chair flying across the room when I read that letter.'

  Joey winced.

  'I tried to stay calm, but the sanctimonious way McLeod described how he'd killed all those people, how he'd tried to manipulate Emily before he murdered her.' He shook his head. 'Something inside me just snapped and I lashed out.'

  'You need to forget him. The man was a pervert, but it's all water under the bridge now. He's admitted what he did.'

  'Maybe so,' Drummond said. 'But that won't bring any of his victims back. It's the ones still living that I'm worried about.'

  'You're thinking about his wife.'

  'Rachel…yes. I can't imagine how she'll deal with hearing the man she was married to murdered her daughter. It's been one nightmare after another for her.' He heard the glasses clink as Joey took them from her filing cabinet together with a new half bottle of whisky.

  'It'll be worse for her hearing news like that from a stranger,' she said, pouring two stiff drams and handing one to Drummond. 'Maybe you should be the one to tell her, Jack?'

  It was a decision he had already made. 'I'll leave for Inverness later today,' he said. 'But it will be a flying visit. It's not my kind of place.' He threw back the whisky in one go and held his glass out for a refill. He'd expected the back of her tongu
e for his audacity to demand another shot of whisky, but he had nothing to lose now. To his surprise she said nothing and poured him another drink.

  'Leave Inverness until the morning,' she said. 'I'll get onto the plods up there and warn them to leave Rachel to you. We'll also give McLeod's other woman, Judy, the bad news that she's not his wife.'

  'Some might see that as good news,' Drummond said. The second whisky had also gone down quickly. He was in a mood to find a pub.

  Rougvie rang as he left the building half an hour later. 'I wasn't sure you'd be out of the interview yet. How did it go?'

  'You don't want to know,' he said sharply. 'Never mind about me, tell me about Rachel McLeod.'

  'She's fine, Jack. She's been asking for you. She says you saved her life when you arrested Angus.'

  Drummond felt a ridiculous stab of pride. It wasn't true, but it felt good to hear. 'How did she take McLeod's death?'

  'I think she was relieved. She wouldn't have stayed with him anyway after what he did to her.' He paused. 'I know about McLeod's confession, Jack…the letter he left with the Free Church minister.'

  'I guessed you would,' Drummond said. 'How do you think she'll take it when she hears it was Angus who murdered Emily?'

  'To be honest, I think she already suspects as much. Rachel is pretty savvy. She will have picked up clues from the way McLeod behaved. She knew he had another woman somewhere. She's not stupid and Angus was certainly not as smart as he thought he was.'

  'That's for sure,' Drummond said. 'I've volunteered to be the one to tell her about his confession. It has to be me she hears it from.'

  'When are you coming up?'

  'In the morning. I'll go straight to see Rachel and then maybe we can meet up. I have something to tell you.'

  When he cut the call, he tapped in Pete Mullen's number. He should know before Rougvie that he was leaving the Force. It was answered immediately. Drummond got the impression his old friend had been waiting for his call.

  'Well?' Pete asked. 'How did it go?'

  'Angus McLeod confessed to everything in a letter he left with the minister of the Free Church in Inverness.'

  'Glory be!' Pete said. Drummond could almost see the grin on his face. 'So, it was him who killed the girl, Emily, all along? You were right, Jack. Well done. Look, my shift ends at five. I'll buy you a drink.'

  'Sounds like a plan, Pete. What about the Five Stars?'

  Pete had arrived at the pub before Drummond and grabbed a quiet table. 'A pint and a half is it, Jack?' he said, rising and heading for the bar.

  'Just the pint, thanks.’ Drummond ignored Pete's raised eyebrow.

  'So, tell me,' he said when he returned with their beer. 'I want to know all the gory details of the interview. Are they giving you a commendation?'

  'I'm resigning,' Drummond said.

  Pete's mouth fell open. 'Why would you want to do that?'

  Drummond pulled the pint across to him. 'It wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected. I thought they were going to throw the book at me and then they produced this letter and told me to read it.'

  'You must have been elated when you saw that.'

  'I wasn't actually. Just the opposite. You should have read it. McLeod put down all the murders he'd committed but–'

  'Wait a minute,' Pete cut in. 'What d'you mean ALL the murders? I thought it was just your lassie, Emily.'

  'She was never my lassie, Pete.'

  'No, I know. I just meant you'd been looking out for her. So, who were all these others?'

  Drummond picked up his beer. 'He mentioned the banker in Stornoway who apparently liked wee boys more than he should have. McLeod also implicated his old father, the local Free Church minister, the Rev Murdo McLeod, in that one. He also suggested he'd murdered his mother and the man she ran away with and buried their bodies on a hill opposite Ullapool.'

  Pete sat back, frowning. 'I call clearing up all these murders as a reason to celebrate. Why would that not please you?'

  'Like I said. You should have read the letter. Angus McLeod took no responsibility at all for what he'd done. It was like he was writing about somebody else.'

  'And that upset you?'

  Drummond allowed his gaze to wander over the pub. It was filling up as customers came in for a drink before heading home. He didn't look at Pete. 'I wanted him punished. It shouldn't have been up to him to decide he could duck out of life without facing up to what he'd done in court.' He pulled a face. 'I kicked off a bit. They didn't like that.'

  'What did you do?'

  'Got angry, kicked a chair away, paced about a bit…Oh, I don't know. I just kicked off.'

  'Don't you think it's time you stopped being a fist with a warrant card?'

  Drummond laughed. 'That's more or less what this chief super who interviewed me said. She said I needed anger management.'

  'I've been telling you that for years.'

  'I know.' Drummond sighed. 'And now it doesn't matter because I'm going.'

  Pete was watching him. 'So, you'll be going on a bender tonight?'

  'No. It's been too long since I last saw my dad. I'm going over there tonight.'

  'Good idea,' Pete said. 'And then what?'

  'Tomorrow I'm driving to Inverness to tell Rachel McLeod that it was her husband who killed her daughter. I'm not looking forward to it, but it has to be me who passes on this news. I feel responsible.'

  'You have a good heart, Jack Drummond. And give me heart over fist any day.'

  Drummond swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and looked away.

  'What happens after Inverness?' Pete asked.

  'I'm not sure,' Drummond said. He felt on the verge of something he couldn't explain, but he knew his life was about to change. He just didn't know how he would cope with it.

  After he left Pete at the pub, Drummond walked to his flat and let himself in. He looked around him. The room was as neat and tidy as always, but there was a greyness about the place he'd never noticed before. A kind of emptiness that made him shiver.

  All he wanted was to crash out and make an early start for Inverness. Rachel shouldn't have to wait any longer to know the truth about the man she married, even if that knowledge would devastate her.

  Drummond's mobile rang as he stepped out of the shower. 'Nick! I thought we were catching up in the morning,' he said, pulling on his bathrobe.

  'Pete tells me you're leaving the Force,' Nick said bluntly.

  'Well, that was the plan,' Drummond said, his eye on the sofa he hadn't sat on since the last time he saw Emily there.

  'You do know you're making a huge mistake.'

  'Am I,' Drummond said. 'I hear they're crying out for street cleaners here, or I could run a pub, or join the church.' He could hear Rougvie sighing at the other end of the phone. He took a breath. 'Or maybe you could rustle up a few bad guys for me to nick up there in Inverness.'

  There was a moment's silence and then Rougvie's confused voice. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

  Drummond swallowed. It was the visit to his dad that had made up his mind. 'There's always a job for you here in the shop, son,' his dad had said. A sudden vision of himself selling sweeties and newspapers from behind a counter, with a spreading waistline and a hopeless kind of defeat in his eyes, had flashed before him. Was that to be his future? He didn't think so. He was a cop. He would always be a cop

  He grinned into the phone. 'I'm saying I'm not ready to quit being a copper – not yet.’ He paused. 'I'm going to be your new neighbour, Nick.'

  End

  Author’s note

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  Also by Rena George

  THE LOVEDAY MYSTERIES

  A Cornish Revenge

  A Cornish Kidnapping

  A Cornish Vengeance

  A Cornish Obsession

  A Cornish Malice

  A Cornish Betrayal

  A Cornish Deception

  A Cornish Ransom

  THE MELLIN COVE TRILOGY

  Danger at Mellin Cove

  Mistress of Mellin Cove

  Secrets of Mellin Cove

  - also –

  Highland Heart

  Inherit the Dream

  Fire in the Blood

  Where Moonbeams Dance

  A Moment Like This

  Copyright © Rena George 2019 All rights reserved.

  www.renageorge.com

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are of the author’s imagination and should in no way be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is fictionalised or coincidental.

  For any enquiries regarding this book, please email author@renageorge.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any way without written permission from the author, with the exception of brief quotations in a book review.