by Ed James
‘Oh yes, very much.’
‘Well, in that case…’ Watson entered the room and thwacked his briefcase down next to McLean. ‘Evening, Douglas.’ He thrust out his paw. ‘Bruce Watson. Let’s try and get you out of here, aye?’ He sat opposite Karen, but she didn’t look up at him, stayed scribbling in her notebook.
Vicky held the door open with her foot, so she could keep her eye on Watson. Not a lawyer she’d encountered before and, while Dundee wasn’t exactly engulfed with the same crimes as Edinburgh or Glasgow, they still had their fair share of Machiavellian criminal defence lawyers. She opened the door wider and stepped into the room.
Just as her phone rang.
She fished it out and checked the display. Considine calling… Vicky sighed. ‘Better take this.’ She nodded at Karen to get the recording going, then stepped back out.
Watson smiled at her. ‘You’ve got to try harder than that.’
‘Two seconds.’ Vicky let the door shut and answered it. ‘What’s up?’
‘Just at that woman’s address now, Sarge.’
‘Which woman?’
‘Eh, the Inglis woman. You know, Catriona Gordon’s neighbour’s sister? I’ve got her statement and it checks out with another of Catriona’s neighbours. One of those curtain twitchers, but she photographs the cars.’
‘Blessed be the curtain twitcher.’
‘Still, it backs up her story. McLean left the flat at just after eleven and took Mrs Inglis up to the Hilltown. Assuming he was the one who raped her, that’s cold, eh?’
‘Very cold.’
‘I thought you were staying at the hospital?’
‘Aye, I did. Lassie boked all over that wee nurse’s shoes. Not a pretty sight.’
‘Think she was genuinely upset?’
‘Just called and checked. Aye, still crying. Going to sedate her soon. Poor kid.’
Vicky felt her eyebrows lift. Sometimes the odd ones surprised you.
‘Oh, and Sarge, I’ve just been around to that restaurant?’
‘The hotel one?’
‘Aye, it’s called the Chez Mal Brasserie.’ Considine said it with a fairly authentic French accent, all rolling Rs. ‘In there eight till nine.’
‘On the dot?’
‘Pretty much, aye.’
‘Okay, thank you.’ Vicky killed the call and tried the front desk downstairs. ‘Marko, do you know where the duty doctor has—’
‘Aye, aye, aye. He’s busy. Six-man brawl on Reform Street. The two arseholes not in hospital look like a Tarantino film, so he’s a bit busy.’
‘It’s just a quick one. Can you ask him if Dougie—’
‘Aye, he’s okayed him for interview.’
‘Not that. Ask him to call me.’
‘Sure, sure. Here! You can’t do that in here! Oh for—’ And he was gone.
Vicky put her phone away, sighed, then entered the interview room. ‘Thanks for attending so swiftly, Mr Watson.’ She took her seat and got a nod from Karen – everything was up and running. ‘I appreciate it’s Christmas Eve, so I’m hoping you will just give us a full confession and we can all go back home to our families.’ She paused. ‘I mean, except you, Mr McLean.’
He ran a hand down his face. ‘I’m innocent.’
‘Sure about that?’
‘You’re restraining my client on some trumped-up charges, which are frankly ridiculous.’
‘Mr McLean, do you know a Catriona Gordon?’
He frowned. ‘You mean Catriona?’
‘So you do know her?’
‘Well, aye. I mean, I met her on an app.’
‘Which one?’
‘Can’t mind.’
‘That because you’re doing the same trick on so many services?’
‘What trick’s that, sugar?’
The brass neck on him… ‘We’re talking about Poggr.’
‘Right, aye.’
‘You meet a lot of girls on there?’
‘It’s not as good as others, but aye. Sure. I’m popular.’
‘Did you meet her in person?’
‘Met her for a drink. I mean, I was driving, so I just had a Coke.’
‘And then?’
‘Went for a nice meal. Chicken and chorizo thing at that place down on Dock Street. She had some pasta thing, I think.’
‘And then?’
‘I dropped her at home. She wasn’t giving me any signs, likes.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You know, asking me in for a coffee. Leaning over for a kiss. None of that.’
‘So, you just dropped her off?’
‘Sure did.’
‘Quite the gentleman.’
‘Hey, being gentle is one of my best traits.’
‘Sure it is.’
‘What time was this?’
‘I’d need to check, wouldn’t I?’
‘When did you meet for that drink.’
‘Half six.’
‘Early.’
‘Both busy people.’
‘And then dinner?’
‘Erm, about an hour and a half later.’
‘So eight?’
‘Sounds right.’
‘When did you leave to take her home?’
‘Weren’t in there long. She seemed to be up for it, so suggested going.’
‘Okay, so nine?’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. We’ve got evidence of it.’
‘So why are you asking me?’
‘It’s all part of the process.’
‘Sure it is.’
‘The next movement we’ve got for you is collecting a fare opposite Miss Gordon’s flat.’
‘That so?’
‘Half past eleven.’
‘So? I was working.’
‘Just so happened to come back there?’
‘Nature of the beast, isn’t it? End up back where you started sometimes.’
‘You turn the meter and radio off then?’
He brushed a hand on his neck. ‘Must’ve done, aye.’
‘Then you turned the radio back on and just so happened to be there.’
‘If you say so.’
‘See, that’s one way of looking at events. Another is that you left Miss Gordon’s home, waited, maybe even drove around the block, then walked back, rang her doorbell, punched her, raped her, tied her up and left her. Then you returned to your car and took the fare.’
McLean pinched his nose. ‘That right, aye?’
‘But not only that, while Miss Gordon was tied up in her bedroom, you made yourself beans on toast. But you didn’t finish it. Why?’
‘Not saying anything.’
‘Your chicken and chorizo dish not too filling after all?’
‘No comment.’
‘So, that’s it? That’s all you’re giving us?’
McLean sat back, folding his skinny arms over his chest. ‘Would need to check with the boss what I did next.’
‘You left the cable behind.’
McLean’s eyes bulged. ‘Cable?’
‘The laptop power cable you choked her with. A Dell, I believe. It’s being run for prints. And the washing twine you bound her with, but that’ll be harder to trace.’
He was blushing now. Looking at his lawyer, eyes darting everywhere. ‘It was something she asked me to do.’
‘What was?’
‘Break into her house, tie her up and rape her.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘Tell you, it was. Some lassies are really into kinky shit and straight off the bat. We were talking about it in the restaurant, about how she had fantasies about a filthy cabbie. So I enacted them.’
Vicky just knew this would happen. The lying, the victim blaming. ‘Mr McLean, the good news is that, now you’ve been arrested, your prints are on the system, along with your DNA. We can match you with the assault on her. You’ll be off the streets for years.’
‘This is complete bollocks.’
‘Is it?
Because from what I can see, we’ve got you. Just admit it. Please. Let us get home.’
‘I haven’t done a thing to any lassies. Just gone about my business like an honest man.’
‘Like one. But not one.’
‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘Okay, let’s talk about the young girl tied up in the trunk of your car.’
‘What?’
‘Come on, you saw her. Did she have a fantasy about a filthy cabbie too, aye?’
‘You planted her.’
‘We planted a teenager in your boot? Right. Did we clonk her on the head too?’
McLean let out a sigh. He had nothing.
‘Okay, so how about you tell us about Carly Johnston?’
‘No idea who you’re talking about.’
‘Really? Because you’ve been chatting to her on Poggr.’
‘Oh, Carly? Wait.’
‘You know her?’
‘Aye. Dated for a bit.’
‘Were you intimate?’
‘Obviously.’
‘Why did you kill her?’
McLean frowned. ‘She’s dead?’
‘Very good. You know she is.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Come on, son. Your car was seen leaving the scene in a hurry. Did she not have fantasies about a dirty cabbie, is that why you killed her?’
‘This is bullshit.’
Vicky stared at Watson. ‘These theatrics aren’t helping his case any.’
Watson leaned over to whisper in McLean’s ear for a good few seconds, then McLean nodded. He sat forward, scratching at his neck. ‘Look, the truth of it is that I’ve been seeing Carly for a few months. On and off, but mostly off. It’s just a sex thing.’
‘She see it that way?’
He shrugged a shoulder.
‘You weren’t going to meet her tonight, were you?’
‘No.’
‘Why are you lying?’
‘I’m not. I haven’t heard from her in days. A week, I think. I ended things.’
‘Sure.’
‘Seriously. She loved us, even told us. And Christ, I hate that word. She was getting way too clingy for my liking.’
‘Too clingy?’
‘Aye, I’m not ready to settle down and she definitely isn’t. I like her, but seriously. I don’t want to settle down.’
‘Settling is not going to be a concern for you for a good few years, Mr McLean.’
He sniffed.
‘So you’re saying you haven’t seen her in days?’
‘Not since, what, Tuesday, I think. Took her for a drive up the Law, and broke it off. She walked off home. Not far from there. Wouldn’t even give us a farewell blow job.’
‘She’s dead.’
‘Aye.’
Vicky shut her eyes. Yet another empty psychopath. How did these people sleep at night? Did they? Did it ever catch up with them? ‘Why did you have a seventeen-year-old girl in the boot of your car?’
Another shrug. ‘Search me.’
‘Are you saying you won’t even attempt to explain abducting her?’
‘I’m saying I can’t explain it.’
‘Try. Give it your best shot, Dougie.’
‘Piss off. Look, youse can believe what you want. I’m innocent.’
‘The same girl’s car was at the location you arranged to meet Carly at.’
‘I did nothing.’
‘We’ll be able to prove it. Our forensics team will get location information from your phone.’
‘Sure they will. And that location won’t be mine. I lost my phone, then someone knocked me out.’
‘Come on, you don’t expect me to believe you, do you?’
‘I don’t really care what you think, love. I lost my smartphone, then woke up with it on my chest. You woke us up and I catapulted it on the dashboard.’
‘Right. That old chestnut.’
‘Damn right. Feel a bit stupid about it, if I’m being honest.’
‘I wouldn’t know, I keep waiting for you to be honest.’
‘Aye, I didn’t have a passcode on it. Lucky someone didn’t clear out my bank account. Sounds like someone’s been using my Poggr account, though, trying to get in touch with Carly.’
Vicky wanted to get him to play it out, let him make as many mistakes as he could, then snare him in a trap. ‘Okay, so what have you been doing?’
‘I’ve been working.’
‘All day?’
‘Since ten.’ He sniffed. ‘Absolute ball-ache as I won’t get my new phone until after Christmas now and the boss is a bit of a dick about things like that. I mean, the car’s his but the phone’s mine.’
‘Okay, so you’ve been working. How did you come to be asleep at the Law monument with a teenager in your boot?’
‘When I realised it was gone, I kept calling my own number, right. Thing cost us a fortune and they could be calling Australia on it. Eventually, the boy answered and said he’d found it. I turned up to meet him, strangely enough up at the Law, but when I turned up, someone grabbed us from behind and…’
‘And what?’
‘Well, I mean…’ McLean scratched his chin. ‘I tried to fight him off, but he was choking me.’ He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his throat. ‘Grabbed us, like in WWE, eh?’
‘You think that proves any of this?’
‘What, you think I could’ve done that to myself? Nae danger. Your doctor said I was lucky not to suffer brain injury from it.’
‘Even if it meant getting off with rape, murder and abduction?’
‘I’m telling you, this boy attacked me. Knocked us clean out.’
‘Right.’
‘I swear this is the truth. When you woke us up, I swear I was seeing two of you. The worst kind of threesome, I tell you. Two cops trying to arrest you.’
Vicky let it bounce off her, kept her expression neutral.
‘Like I said, it was one of my fares from last night who nicked my moby.’
‘Which fare was it?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘And you can’t remember?’
‘I mean, no. I can’t.’
‘You recognise him?’
‘Well, I’ve seen him a few times but can’t place him.’
15
Vicky popped her head into the Incident Room and gave it a quick scan. The whiteboard was cleaned and the dull tang of the pens attacked her nostrils. Rows and rows of computers, with only two officers hammering away at the keyboards.
And she got caught.
‘Vicks.’ Ennis jogged over, hands in his pockets.
‘Careful you don’t trip.’ Vicky was smiling.
‘Eh?’
‘Running with your hands in your pockets, Ryan. Schoolboy error.’
He frowned. ‘Right.’
‘Why are you still there?’
‘Trying to be useful, Vicks. Setting up this room for the gaffer. Thought this case might go on for a while.’
‘Wouldn’t be so sure.’ Vicky patted his shoulder. ‘I meant, why aren’t you with your kid?’
‘Eh?’
‘Teresa’s safe.’
‘What? Why didn’t anyone tell me?’
‘Considine called you.’
‘That laddie… I swear…’ Ennis walked back into the room and grabbed his knee-length coat. ‘Where was she?’
‘She was in the boot of—’
‘What?’ Ennis stopped in the doorway. ‘In the boot?’
‘Ryan, just go and—’
‘Whose boot?’
‘Ryan, seriously, you—’
‘That cabbie? Right? Where is he? Downstairs?’
‘No, he’s—’
‘I’m going to kick the absolute living shite out of him.’
Vicky grabbed Ennis by the arm, digging her thumb into his wrist like her old man taught her, and pushed him into the doorway. ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. We need the conviction to stick, not for you to go all medieval on him.’
<
br /> ‘What are you still doing here, Ry?’ Forrester was strolling along the corridor, arms out like he was marching. He stopped and frowned at them. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing, sir.’ Vicky let him go. ‘Ryan was just heading to Ninewells to see Teresa.’
‘Thought you’d already be there, Ry.’ Forrester shook his head. ‘Go on, spend time with Teresa and Dawn. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.’
Ennis looked around at her, scowling, but a few seconds later he gave up and nodded. ‘Fine.’ He folded his coat over his arm and walked off, tapping something into his phone.
‘Some boy.’ Forrester watched him go, shaking his head again. ‘Any idea how I can get rid of him?’
‘Promote him.’
Forrester barked out a laugh. ‘Some arsehole promoted him already and it’s too high a level for him.’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, good work on finding his girl.’
‘She’s in a really bad way.’
‘Young enough to get better, though. Not like anything truly bad happened.’
‘Bad enough, sir.’
‘I suppose.’ Forrester pinched his nose, then led her into the Incident Room. ‘Ah, just what I like to see. A sense of order in the world.’ He sat down at a computer but didn’t log in. ‘Reason I’m talking such shite is I’m just back from the PM. Brutal seeing a young lassie laid out like that. Only upside is that Carly wasn’t raped.’
Vicky collapsed into a chair. ‘Wasn’t?’
‘Nope.’
‘So why did Arbuthnott say—’
‘She didn’t. Said it was a possibility. We maybe coerced her into saying it.’
‘Sounds like you’re defending her.’
‘Well, she’s given up her Christmas Eve to carve up a lassie’s body like a turkey, so I kind of owe her one.’
‘Did she give you anything?’
‘Not really. Strangled. Some bruising on the neck, petechial haemorrhages in the eyes. You know the drill. Pretty much the same MO this McLean lad used on Ryan’s kid and on young Carly.’
‘Lot of tying up going on. Catriona Gordon was tied up too… And Catriona was definitely done by Dougie.’ Vicky frowned. ‘But Carly wasn’t tied up, just strangled?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I don’t know. Have you got the photos?’
‘Of her?’
‘Of the knots.’ Vicky got out her phone and found the bindings Dougie McLean had used on Catriona, where she’d been ultra-careful at releasing. She held it up. ‘Dougie’s had proper knots, see? Lots of them all symmetrical and obsessively neat.’