The Eye in the Dark

by Katherine Pathak

  Dani was amazed to see John Lomond’s mouth had drooped at both sides and his chin was trembling. Tears were escaping onto his cheeks.

  Nate made his tone even, reasonable. “What were you doing with this bottle of mercury, John? Why was it hidden in your shed? It was a dangerous thing to keep on your property. What were you using it for?”

  John wiped his sleeve across his face. “No comment,” he croaked.

  “I think we’d better take a break now,” the solicitor said sternly.

  Nate stood. “Sure, we’ll continue after lunch.” He signed off the interview and stopped the tape, placing the vial back into the evidence bag and leaving the room, with Dani close behind.

  When they were safely out in the corridor, Dani lowered her voice, remarking, “is there really mercury in that container?”

  Nate shook his head with a chuckle. “The vial they found in the boatshed is safely locked away at the forensic lab, awaiting confirmatory tests. This is one of the techie’s test-tubes filled with silver car paint from Halfords.”

  Dani released a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. “Thank God for that. Well, if you wanted to shake up Lomond, it certainly worked.”

  Nate shrugged. “We’ll have to see. I don’t know what upset him so much in there, or why he had that bottle of mercury stashed under the floorboards, but my gut tells me he used it to terrify the Bauers. The only question now is, why?”

  Chapter 36

  Rhodri had remained at the serious crime division for much of the afternoon. He and Sharon were accessing the archives of the land registry for the Inverness area, trying to find a property which had historically been known as Balloch House.

  The professor had also spent an hour explaining the current situation to Andy Calder, who’d cornered Rhodri in the corridor when they finally surfaced from Bevan’s office, refusing to let him pass until he ‘spilled the beans’ on what was happening.

  Calder was now assisting them in their online searches. He was casting the occasional hostile glance at Sharon, whom he clearly felt should have involved him far sooner.

  Dermot emerged from the office and approached them. “DCI Bevan has just been filling me in on the results of their interviews with Denny Lomond’s brother. He’s still not giving them much.”

  Sharon tutted loudly.

  “But the DCI says they’ve got another problem. Denny Lomond didn’t turn up for work at his offices in Heathrow this morning. The Met’s team are still searching the premises and they spoke with his PA. She says Lomond had a packed schedule today, but he never arrived for his first meeting. She’s been trying to reach him on his mobile but with no joy, it’s clicking straight to voicemail. The Met are tracing the signal now to try and pinpoint a location for it.”

  “Has he done a runner?” Sharon got to her feet. “That’s a fairly strong indicator of guilt.”

  “Yeah, but I’m surprised he’d leave his brother in police custody if he was going to do that. The boss made it sound like the men were really close.” Dermot looked puzzled.

  There wasn’t time for the detectives to speculate any further on Denny Lomond’s whereabouts. Rhodri’s mobile phone began ringing in his pocket. The professor scrambled to answer it, noting the call was from Mike Carlisle. He quickly notched up the volume button. “Mike, how are things?”

  The detectives gathered around to listen in to the conversation.

  “I need your help, Rhodri!”

  “Okay, try to stay calm. Tell me what’s happened.”

  “It’s Betsy, she’s gone missing!”

  “But I thought she was at the clinic in Kilsyth?”

  “She was. Dr Acharya called me this morning. He said Betsy was much better. He wanted her to go home and recuperate. I think they needed her bed for a more chronic case who was coming in.”

  “Yes, that sounds reasonable. So, where is she?”

  “I arrived at the clinic by lunchtime. Betsy was dressed and had her bags packed. We signed out and I helped her into the passenger seat of the car. Then she said she’d left her coat in the clinic. She said it was still on the bed in her room. Naturally, I went back inside to fetch it.” He paused, there was a gulping sound, as if he was stifling a sob. “When I returned to the driveway the car was gone and so was Betsy. I ran down the road to see if I could follow her. There was no sign. I’d only been a couple of minutes. I don’t know what to do, Rhodri!”

  “Have you called the police? She is a very vulnerable person.” The professor recognised the irony of his question, glancing at the three police officers surrounding him, following every word.

  “Not yet. You are the first person I’ve told.”

  “Right, well, let me deal with the police. Tell me exactly where you are. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  *

  Dermot drove the car, with Rhodri in the passenger seat. The DI had negotiated the city centre in quick time. They were now on the motorway, heading towards Kilsyth.

  “Goodness, you’re a very speedy driver, DI Muir. I feel like I’m in a police chase.”

  “I was an officer in the diplomatic division before coming to Pitt Street. I have an advanced license. Sometimes we needed to get the people we were protecting out of dangerous situations – fast.”

  “Well, it’s certainly come in useful on this occasion.”

  “We’ll be at the clinic in about ten minutes. The local traffic police have been alerted to be on the look out for Betsy and Mike’s car.” He sighed. “In reality, the woman is free to drive her own vehicle wherever she likes. The clinic had signed her off. She’d not had a sedative in over 12 hours. Dr Acharya didn’t think she should have been there in the first place. He said Betsy’s husband insisted they take her in and give her something to knock her out. It sounds like Betsy can make her own decisions. Maybe she’s better off without Mike. It’s certainly not really a police matter.”

  “I know, but only we understand the odd circumstances. If the Carlisles have a link to the four murders that have taken place, Betsy could be in real danger out there on her own; Mike or no Mike.”

  Muir nodded. He knew this was true.

  The car finally pulled up onto the driveway of the clinic. Mike rose from a bench positioned at the edge of a pleasant front garden in full bloom, his face pinched into an anguished expression. Muir and Rhodri climbed out and approached him.

  “Thank you for coming,” Mike pronounced. “I’m at my wits end. I couldn’t go back inside, what would I tell them? The doctor thought he’d placed Betsy in safe hands.”

  Rhodri laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “This is DI Muir, he’s here to help us find Betsy. Did she have a mobile phone with her?”

  Mike was ready to answer this. “Yes, but it will be switched off in her bag, she never uses it. Otherwise I would have tried to call it myself.”

  Muir shook his head. “We can’t trace the phone unless it’s switched on.”

  Rhodri made his tone firm but gentle. “Now, Mike, we need to know where Betsy might have gone to. She took the car over an hour ago. Time is running out to catch up with her.”

  Mike gazed down at his brown brogues. “I can’t help you with that.”

  Rhodri shook his shoulder gently. “We’ve been friends for a long time, and I hope we trust one another. But in this instance, I must admit I don’t believe you. I think you know exactly where Betsy has gone.”

  Mike wheezed, as if the air had been knocked out of his chest.

  Rhodri persisted. “Mike, whatever you’re hiding, it can’t be worth this anguish. For God’s sake, man. Your daughter is dead and your wife is missing! You need to tell us the truth!”

  Mike took a step back, a stunned look on his face; as if he’d received a slap. “She will have gone to Inverness,” he said bluntly. “Back to Balloch House.”

  Chapter 37

  The journey to Inverness, even with Dermot’s expert driving, was going to take over three hours. The DI had called ahead and
notified the police station in Balloch that Betsy’s car was headed in their direction. There were patrols out looking for her on all the roads in and out.

  Mike was seated in the back. Dermot and Rhodri remained silent, allowing their passenger to speak, only interrupting if absolutely necessary. They didn’t wish to disturb the flow of his story.

  “I grew up in Inverness in the 1950s and 60s. I always had a natural ability with languages, so it was inevitable I would choose to read for a modern languages degree when I applied to Aberdeen University. I majored in German, but I am also fluent in French. I taught languages for my entire career.” He turned to look out of the window, as the hills became higher and more rugged with every mile they travelled.

  “It was at university that my interest in student politics was fostered. My father had always been left-wing, he was a great influence upon me. But at university I became friends with a group who introduced me to a more radical way of viewing the world. We studied the works of Marx and Engels; I in the original German. The ideological discussions about equality and community I read within those pages struck a chord with my young, radical self. Within a few months of being at college, I had joined the student communist society.”

  Rhodri raised an eyebrow, he hadn’t known about his friend’s radical past. He himself had been something of a hippie as a student, but Mike had always struck him as a more conservative type.

  “We were at the height of the Cold War, yet our sympathies as a group lay with Russia. The capitalist and imperialist excesses of the USA held no appeal to me back then. I had a particular friend, a young man called, Jimmy, who claimed to have active connections with the Soviet Union.” Mike sighed heavily. “I kept in touch with Jimmy even when I had graduated and become a teacher in Inverness. We’d been pals for twenty years when he contacted me about this project he needed help with.”

  “He and a group of his associates had taken over a run-down old country house near Balloch. They’d converted it into a type of residential hospital. Jimmy didn’t tell me anything about the purpose of the place at first, just that they were looking after a group of patients who required intensive medical care. They also needed to learn decent language skills, and fast.”

  “And that’s where you came in?” Rhodri commented, almost to himself.

  “I was unsure at first. My job was respectable. I knew what Jimmy was asking me to do was going to be illegal, very possibly even treasonous. But I had no wife or family to worry about or put in jeopardy. I suppose I was looking for something to give purpose to my life.”

  “I recall the day I arrived so clearly. The house stood in its own grounds, surrounded by a forest of tall maples. The building was a little dilapidated, but inside, Jimmy and his friends had done a great job of making it pleasant and homely.”

  “My job was to teach the patients English. Most of them already knew a few words, some more, but I had to make them fluent; as accomplished in my mother tongue as if they’d been born and bred here in Scotland. Because the plan was that when they’d recovered sufficiently, they would stay in this country. Blend seamlessly into society with everybody else.”

  Rhodri twisted his body round to face the back seat. “These people would be spies for the Soviet Union?”

  Mike’s expression was sad. “I think that was the original idea. They would become sleepers in the UK, blending into the general population and being useful to the motherland when required. But this was the mid-eighties. The Cold War was thawing. Peace talks were reducing tensions between Russia and the west. Gorbachev had his Glasnost programme well underway.”

  “You referred to these people at the house as patients. What medical needs did they have?”

  “The group I worked with had been technicians in a government weapons laboratory in east Berlin. They’d been constructing nuclear detonators. The use of the plutonium had been strictly controlled, but these women had routinely been exposed to mercury as part of the process.”

  “They were suffering from mercury poisoning?” Rhodri’s mind was whirring fast. He knew a little about the effects of this particular chemical on the human nervous system; it caused hallucinations and psychotic episodes, deep depression and tremors in the body. He thought about Betsy’s mental health issues over the years and the penny suddenly dropped.

  Mike nodded, as if Rhodri had put voice to his thoughts. “For some it was more severe than for others. But they were well cared for by the medical volunteers. When they were well enough, I taught them English lessons in one of the downstairs drawing rooms. It had tall windows overlooking the lawn and was full of light. I visited the house at weekends and in my school holidays. The group made excellent progress.”

  “There was one student I bonded with more than the others. Her name was Elka. Her parents were from the Elbe Valley. She had excelled in science at school. The government in East Germany had recommended her for work in a prestigious armament laboratory in Berlin. Elka had worked there for ten years before she began to grow sick. Several other of her colleagues displayed similar symptoms.”

  “Why weren’t they treated back in the GDR?” Rhodri asked.

  “Because there was some sort of scandal about the way they’d been exposed to the mercury they were working with. The dangers of the chemical to humans was well-known by this time. The scientist in charge of the weapons programme was pushing his team too hard to get results. He cut corners with the safety procedures and exposed his technicians to the raw materials whilst keeping himself at a safe distance.”

  Dermot gripped the wheel more tightly, muttering under his breath, “Klaus Bauer.”

  “There was a sense within the East German government that when the grip of Soviet control loosened, there would be questions to answer about how these technicians had been allowed to become so sick. The recriminations would start. A new project was launched to deal with them. They would be smuggled into Scotland by Jimmy and his Soviet funded friends. They would treat the group, re-train them and turn them into Soviet informers within the country. The poor victims would be swallowed up within the strict rules of the KGB, their story a matter of national security.”

  “Did they all get better?” Rhodri knew prolonged exposure to mercury could be lethal.

  Mike shook his head solemnly. “A couple died within the first few weeks of arrival. We buried their bodies in the grounds. Another woman, Elka’s best friend, she seemed to have recovered well. But years later, she took her own life. We were lucky, Elka got off lightly by comparison with her symptoms. She’d not been as badly exposed as the others.”

  “After only a few months, Elka and I fell in love. We walked in the grounds of the house and shared our meals together. Jimmy encouraged our relationship, along with another of the patients who began seeing one of the doctors who volunteered there. He thought it would help them to integrate better into society when they left.”

  “Alongside the language classes, I also instructed the patients in Scottish history and culture. After about a year, they were ready to be given their new identities. Elka became Elizabeth. But I liked to call her Betsy, which had been my grandmother’s name.”

  “When did the two of you marry?” Rhodri was fascinated by the idea of how this relationship had come into being.

  “Jimmy drove us to the Town Hall in Inverness with a couple of his mates as witnesses, this was in 1987. His associates had produced a birth certificate for Betsy. It was the first proper test of the entire project; would the officials notice it was a forgery? But they never did. Betsy’s accent and use of English were impeccable. I was a respectable local teacher. Our authenticity as a couple was never questioned. My parents thought we’d met through mutual friends. They considered Betsy a much-loved member of the family before they passed away.”

  Rhodri shook his head in amazement. He’d certainly never questioned their relationship in all the years he’d known them.

  “I wanted to take Betsy home with me to my flat in the city, but the doctors
at Balloch House said she wasn’t well enough. She was still having nightmares and episodes of extreme anxiety. They let us have a set of rooms at the house, like a married-quarters. Betsy became pregnant in ’88. The doctors were worried at first, but the pregnancy was a healthy one.”

  “You mean Autumn was born at Balloch House?” Rhodri’s mouth fell open.

  “Yes, in fact, motherhood seemed the best cure for Betsy. Autumn was born in the October, when the maple trees in the forest were ablaze with oranges and deep reds. It’s the reason we gave her the name. She wasn’t the only child at Balloch House either. Betsy’s best friend Gretchen had arrived there from Germany with two children. One was only a baby and the other a toddler so they could not have been separated from her. Their father worked in a government department and remained in East Germany. I don’t believe Gretchen ever saw him again. But her children were great company for Autumn during those three years we were at Balloch House. We were like a family in those early years, looking out for one another. Autumn played often with Gretchen’s boys.”

  Dermot took his eyes off the road for a moment, twisting his head so his voice carried into the rear of the car. “What were the boys called?”

  “Karl and Bruno,” Mike replied, his tone devoid of any emotion.

  “I don’t think they are still called that now, Mr Carlisle. I’d stake my bloody career on the fact those little boys are now known as Dennis and John.”

  Chapter 38

  The road sign that whipped past indicated it was only another fifteen miles until they reached the outskirts of Inverness. Soon, Dermot would need to rely on Mike to direct him to where they were going. The Sat Nav wouldn’t be of any further use.