Hunter's Rules (The Edinburgh Crime Mysteries Book 6)

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by Val Penny


  A waitress remembered other details that Scott thought might be useful. The man had dark hair and a full, bushy beard. She remembered that the woman seemed drunk when she left the table to use the ladies’ room. She had seemed alright until then. Certainly, when she got up, she walked there and back, a bit wobbly, but she went alone. However, when the couple left the table shortly afterwards, the man had virtually carried her out. She certainly couldn’t walk.

  Scott was surprised by this and wondered what could have happened to explain this sudden change. He thought that the wine might have gone to the woman’s head.

  Chapter Three

  “It was good to see your pop,” Frankie said to Jamie. “But they were a bit late letting the cons in, weren’t they? What did your pop say, again?”

  “Some toerag was found with a sim card in his mouth. Rookie error. Anyway, it right did him good to see us and hear about how your wedding plans are going.”

  “Aye, I said we’re no’ having it till he’s out the big house. So that’s why we’ve no told the twins yet. They’re too wee to understand. They’ll be right bonnie as our flower girls, won’t they?”

  “And with me being the best man I get to make a speech about what a nob you are.” Jamie laughed. “It makes me nervous that Donna’s asked Linda to be her bridesmaid. They’re bickering about the colour of her dress and the like.” He became serious. “I just hope it doesn’t give Linda any ideas about her and me.”

  “My guess is that ship has long sailed,” Frankie said.

  “Probably.” Jamie shrugged. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you want to let your mam know, Frankie? Auntie Edna would be happy to hear you’re settled and doing so well.”

  “You suppose right. I’ve told my bro, of course. Harry doesn’t know where he’ll be or if he’ll be able to get leave to come even. It depends where he is and what he’s doing.”

  “Problem of being in the army,” Jamie said. “And the fact you haven’t actually set a date.”

  “What did your pop say to you when he sent me off to get the coffees? He made sure I had to queue up in two lines to get his chocolate as well. And I had to walk to the vending machines on the far side of the prison visiting room. He was up to something. I know him.”

  “I suppose you do. But he does like a bit of chocolate.” Jamie changed the subject. “It always smells the same, in that visiting room; disinfectant and sweat.”

  “A pongy combination at the best of times, and that wasn’t one of them. Why did you and your pop have to mention my fucking mother? May she rot and burn,” Frankie said. “I was in a right bad mood thinking about her as I stood waiting for the machines to give me the drinks and Uncle Ian’s chocolate.”

  “He was only trying to be nice. And I tried to smooth things over.”

  “He wasn’t and you didn’t. But you’ll never guess who I saw.”

  “Who?”

  “Old Argy Bargy.”

  “Arjun Mansoor, really. What was he up to?”

  “No idea. Just made me wonder how I could have worked for that evil man for so long and noticed nothing?”

  “Dunno. Maybe you’re just thick.”

  “Shut up, Jamie. Mansoor had a right shiner. His left eye was all black. I was buggered when your pop told me why he got it. But nothing happens in HMP Edinburgh without him knowing.”

  ***

  Jamie nodded and thought back to the private chat he had had with his pop.

  “Look son,” Pop said, “while Frankie’s away, let me tell you something. I think that house is getting too crowded with you two lads having your girlfriends there and what with Frankie’s twins and everything. There’ll be no room for me when I get out and it won’t be that long now. I’m keeping my nose clean this time.”

  “That makes a change, Pop.”

  “None of your cheek, lad,” Ian said. “At least I’ve no’ been caught.” He grinned at his son. “Have you still got that money we stashed when we sold the hearse?”

  “Of course. But that’s not got a lot to do with keeping your nose clean.”

  “Shut it, we need to sort this before Frankie gets back. Is it in Thomson’s Top Cars?”

  “Aye, where else did you think it would be? Of course, me and Frankie took our cut like you said, rest is in the safe in a Tesco bag.”

  “That’s good. But what I wanted to tell you is, I’ve heard that Mr and Mrs Morrison who live in the other half of your semi are moving soon.”

  “How could you possibly know that from in the clink?”

  “Mansoor knows them. He was talking. I’m sure they’ll move a bit faster if you make their lives difficult.”

  Jamie grinned and shook his head. “You’re impossible, Pop. But I can do that easy enough.”

  “And use that chunk of change for the deposit. Feed to the brief, little by little, that way there’ll be no money laundering questions?”

  “You sure, Pop? It’s a hundred grand remember. That’s enough cash for a right good deposit, I’d guess. We could buy it outright if you’d let us use the money from the business.”

  “Well just do that. It can be a company asset. Hush here comes Frankie. Don’t tell him about the new house, it’ll be a nice surprise.”

  ***

  “What did he say again?” Jamie asked Frankie as they got into the car to drive home.

  “I said that Mansoor’s got a black eye and how’d he get it? Your pop said he was talking out of turn about the twins.”

  “Your twins? What does he know about Kylie-Ann and Dannii-Ann?”

  “He knows the Morrisons who live next door to us, and they’d been telling him about them, and what beautiful red hair and green eyes they have. He was winding Uncle Ian up, so he gave him a thumping in the showers.”

  “The bastard. Won’t Mansoor complain?”

  “Not if he knows what’s good for him. You know what your pop’s like. It was right nice of him to stick up for the twins,” Frankie said.

  “He always will.”

  “I heard they’re planning to move house soon. Could we maybe look at getting their place for you and Linda? It’d be good to have you next door, but our house is getting right crowded.”

  He watched as Jamie burst out laughing. “What’s so bloody funny?”

  “Come on, Frankie. Let’s stop for a pint and I’ll tell you.”

  Chapter Four

  Tim Myerscough felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He looked at the screen. Why was Lucky, the formally named Lord Lachlan Buchanan, phoning him? One way to find out.

  “Lucky, what can I do for you?”

  “Timmy, boy, thank God you haven’t changed your number. And thanks for picking up, I know I’m not your favourite person, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Does that make me first choice or last choice? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. What do you want? And by the way, you’re more likely to get it if you don’t call me ‘Timmy boy’.”

  “Sure. Of course, Tim. I’m just nervous.”

  “Nervous is not a word I normally associate with you, Lucky. Selfish, greedy, manipulative, unpleasant. Any of those, but not nervous. Anyway, aren’t you still in rehab?”

  “Yes, but that’s just it. I’m due to get out in a couple of days if I can get a reputable person to sign me out and take me home. Back to the estate and…”

  “I’m the only reputable person, you know?”

  “Not exactly…”

  “Why can’t your ever-loving cousin Felix help you? I admit he’s not terribly reputable, but that’s not generally known in public circles. I thought he was living out at the estate too. It would be much more convenient for him to do the needful.”

  “That’s the thing. You see he’s gone AWOL. Switched his phone off and everything.”

  “Never a good sign with Felix,” Tim said.

  “You’re right there. Probably means he’s off to Ibiza or Marbella, looking for fresh meat, or DJing, or both. Anyway, I can’t get
in touch with him.”

  Tim thought for a moment. He disliked Lachlan, but they went back a long way. He couldn’t see him stuck. Then he had a lightbulb moment. “What about the lovely Lady Sophie Dalmore? You and she used to be an item. Sophie will help, surely.”

  “I haven’t heard from Sophie since my conviction. She doesn’t take my calls and no letters.”

  “She’s probably a bit busy to be writing letters to her drug-addled ex-boyfriend, I suppose.”

  “That’s harsh, Tim.”

  “Harsh maybe. True, definitely.”

  “Also, did you know her dad died?”

  “Yes, a shock being so sudden. I’m going to the funeral to pay my respects, tomorrow. She’ll be involved with arranging that. It’ll be a bit of a change seeing Geoffrey as the new Lord Dalmore,” Tim said.

  “Send her my love and kindest regards, won’t you?”

  “I think I’ll pass on being your messenger in her hour of grief if it’s all the same to you. However, if there’s nobody else in your little black book who’s willing to help you out, I’ll pick you up and take you home. But I’m not accepting any responsibility for you after you get out of my car.”

  “Agreed. Thanks, Tim. You’re a true friend.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. Look, Lucky, I’ve got to go. I’ve got another call holding and this one’s from somebody I actually like.”

  ***

  There really are some right bloody toffs in the police now. I mean, look at Tim Myerscough. With a pedigree and wealth like his and a first-class honours degree, he should be right at the top of the pole by now. But no, the bloody goody two shoes won’t use his wire or even take the fast-track graduate thing. He wants to show everybody that he can do it all on his own.

  Good looking bastard probably can. I know the funds he inherited from his mother are enough to allow him to buy and sell most of us. But that won’t save his girlfriend. Apparently she has the most vibrant green eyes. Nice.

  ***

  “Hi, Gillian. What’s up, pet?” Tim asked.

  “Hi, honey. I’ve just got an email from the university in Kiev.”

  “You’ve been waiting for that. What’s the offer?”

  “I’ve been offered a year’s teaching contract.”

  “A year?”

  “Well, an academic year. Nine months. I’d be teaching my favourite topic, eastern European languages, Russian, Uzbek, Georgian, Slovakian, Slovenian and Czech and the nuances and changes that have developed since the countries separated. I’d be using my Ukrainian to teach the topic. It’s a great opportunity, Tim.”

  “Starting when?”

  “Summer term. I’d start in April. It’s a lovely time of year in Ukraine.”

  “If you’re doing summer term to summer term it’ll be almost the year, unless you plan to come home for a while.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. I’d start work on the courses running the following academic year. I’d want to do my own research too.”

  “That’s what I thought. Look, you can’t pass up on this opportunity. Can we speak about it tonight at home? Maybe you can give some thought to what you want to do for your birthday too.”

  “Will do. See you tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  “How is she?” Meera asked Ailsa.

  “Hunter and Tim need to find this monster. Even the look of her wounds was grim. It was as if her eyeballs had been removed with a kitchen knife or something. So much force was used that her left eye socket is broken too. She must have been heavily sedated otherwise the shock would probably have killed her.”

  Meera grimaced. She was sure the sight of the young woman sprawled on the bloody floor of the lift would never leave her.

  This was the third woman to have been attacked in this very specific way. However, the other two had been left outside. The first was in Ravelston Wood. She had been found by a dog walker who was now traumatised by the sight of wounds the woman had suffered. Meera had done the post-mortem examination and thought the victim had probably been found two or three days after she had been attacked. She was appalled by the brutality that had been inflicted on her.

  The second woman was still in one of her freezers. She had been found by a couple of metal detectorists walking along the beach at Cramond. Meera guessed they were hoping to find Roman coins, but thought it more likely they had unearthed beer bottle tops and tin cans. A corpse was certainly not amongst the items they had wanted to find, and both had to be treated for shock. Meera wondered if they would ever enjoy their hobby again.

  “Meera, Meera, are you all right?” Ailsa asked.

  “Yes, sorry, of course. What did you do for the woman?”

  “Her blood pressure was low. She had clearly lost a lot of blood and her body would be in shock too.”

  “Of course.”

  “You know, I worked in King’s College Hospital A&E in London for years and saw all kinds of wicked attacks, stabbings, beatings and gunshot wounds. But none was as callous as this one. We had to put her on blood infusions and fluids while she was waiting for surgery.”

  “It’s horrendous. Did she regain consciousness at all?”

  “Not for long. But she told us her name is Eileen Maguire. She asked where ‘Frederick’ was, and why everything was dark.”

  “God. She muttered the name Frederick to me when she was in the lift.”

  “What did you tell her. We body-swerved the question about Frederick, although I’ll tell Hunter of course.”

  “Hmm. I doubt that’ll be Frederick’s real name.”

  “Me too, Meera, but it’s all we’ve got. We told her she’d suffered an injury and was in the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. I said she’d have to go for surgery and then she began to cry. It was awful. She still has her tear ducts, and her cheeks got all wet. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “No, neither have I. It’s ghastly.”

  “I asked her who her next of kin was. She mentioned her sister, Linda.”

  “Linda Maguire? That name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why,” Meera said.

  “Anyway, at that point the surgeon came down and instructed us to anesthetise her so that they could carry out their examinations without causing her any further pain or stress.”

  “She’ll have enough of that when she finds out what was done to her.”

  Meera looked quizzically at Ailsa for a moment. “I think I’ve remembered who Linda Maguire is, if it’s the same person,” she said. “I think she’s Jamie Thomson’s girlfriend.”

  “Oh no. Meera, leave it with me. I’ll phone Tim and ask him to contact Jamie and Linda, but to be sensitive until he establishes the woman is Linda’s sister.

  “Good idea. It could be a different girl with the same name.”

  Chapter Six

  Tim accepted another bacon roll from Bear. He started to munch it and washed it down with the last of his coffee. When he had finished breakfast, he turned to face Hunter who was standing at the front of the room. Tim hoped his boss felt better than he looked. A grey suit, grey face and greying stubble was not a good look. Hunter’s tie hung limply to one side and clearly it would take more than his signature strong, black coffee to bring the man fully to this morning’s briefing and the task in hand.

  He looked at Rachael when Hunter walked towards her. She shook her head, but it was clear that whatever the boss was asking of her, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He saw her point towards Mel. Hunter shrugged and then nodded. Clearly a compromise had been reached.

  Tim watched Hunter walk back towards his original place and heard him ask for the team’s attention more quietly than ever before. It was going to be a long day.

  “Bear, Tim, if you could stop eating your breakfast for long enough to pay attention to what I have to say, that would be great.”

  The big men at the back of the room exchanged glances and Bear devoured his remaining food quickly avoiding any waste.

  “You promoted yet?” Bear
asked Tim.

  “Not even sat the exam yet.”

  “Is Hunter’s promotion through?”

  “No announcement that I know of.”

  “Would the two of you like to take this briefing? You seem to have a lot to say.”

  “Sorry, boss,” they muttered.

  “With DCI Mackay now working with MIT, I’m acting DCI,” Hunter said. “Catching the eye thief has become my own circle of hell. I plan to second Neil Larkin to our team because we’ve lost DC Angus McKenzie to MIT already, and I want a full complement to catch this bastard fast.”

  “Charlie won’t be pleased,” Mel said.

  “I will spend the appropriate number of my waking hours worrying about that, DC Grant.”

  Mel blushed. Tim saw Bear put a hand on her shoulder. When was he going to do the decent thing by her and marry Mel, or at least announce their engagement?

  “So, who’s going to pretend to be you, if you’re being DCI Mackay, boss?”

  “Don’t be an arse, Bear. I am not pretending to be anybody else. You’re working under my rules now. Anyway, I believe a DI is being assigned to us, but who knows when. Tim, when is your sergeant’s exam?”

  “Not heard yet.”

  “It would make my life a hell of a lot easier if you accepted being fast-tracked young Myerscough.”

  “Possibly yours, but not mine. I want to get promoted on merit. I don’t want anybody to be able to say that I got a promotion because Dad was Chief Constable. I want them to know that I got it because I jumped through all the same hoops as everybody else.” Tim looked at Hunter and heard the man sigh, but they both knew he was not going to shift his ground.

  “Let’s get on then,” Hunter said and explained how he and Meera happened to be at the Waldorf Astoria the previous evening and found the injured woman. The team knew about the two women who had previously been found dead with similar injuries.

  “Do we know if the perpetrator is the same person?” DC Nadia Chan asked.

 

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