The Innocent and the Dead

by Robert McNeill

  * * *

  An hour after the first had gone, a second man entered the basement where Samantha was being held. He was taller, leaner, and although he also wore a ski mask, there was something familiar about him. He pushed a trolley with a tray into the room, then walked over and removed the tape from her mouth.

  ‘You alright, love?’ he said.

  ‘I thought I recognised you,’ Samantha said. ‘You’re the man who passed me in the tunnel.’

  ‘Aye, that’s right.’ He gestured to the tray. ‘I’ve brought you some tea, and a wee bit of toast and jam. You’ll be hungry?’

  This man sounded different, his manner more solicitous.

  ‘I am,’ Samantha said. She eyed the tray then and added, ‘It’s not much use with my hands tied.’

  ‘I’m going to do something about that in a minute,’ the man said. He went behind her and lifted a long pole with a hook which was leaning against the wall. ‘But first I’m going to sneck this window.’

  He lifted the pole, angled the hook through an eyelet, and pushed the window shut.

  ‘No offence,’ he said. ‘Just a precaution my mate wanted done. This part of the house backs onto a yard. No other houses near, not much chance of being heard. Still…’

  ‘No point in me screaming, then,’ Samantha said.

  She heard a soft laugh through the ski mask. ‘No, love,’ he said. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Please, don’t call me “love”,’ she said. ‘My name is Samantha.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said. ‘Samantha.’

  She said, ‘What do I call you?’

  The man turned to make sure the door was closed, then lowered his voice and replied, ‘My mate said not to tell you, but it’s Peter. I prefer Pete, though.’

  Samantha indicated the tray. ‘Okay… Pete. You said you were going to untie my hands?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Pete replied. He took a mobile phone from his pocket and activated its camera function. ‘One more thing, though. I’ve got to take your photo.’ He took a folded copy of The Times from the bottom of the trolley, placed it on her knees, then raised the mobile, clicked, returned it to his pocket and put the paper back.

  ‘You’ll be sending that to my father, I suppose?’

  Pete nodded to the door. ‘My mate’s taking care of that. I can’t talk about it.’

  Samantha looked at him for a long moment. ‘You don’t sound like the type who would get mixed up in something like this,’ she said. ‘Why are you?’

  Pete shook his head. ‘Circumstances,’ he said. ‘I honestly don’t want to discuss it.’

  He went over and untied her hands, positioned the trolley beside her, then strode to the corner on Samantha’s left, took a chair from behind a screen, and placed it near the door. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve to stay when you’re untied and when, ahem’ – he pointed to the curtain – ‘you use the chemical toilet on the other side of that screen.’

  Samantha glanced at the curtain and shook her head. ‘Appears you and your mate have thought of everything.’

  Pete went back to the screen and retrieved a portable radio, which he placed on the floor next to his chair. ‘Forgot this,’ he said. ‘I’ll switch it to a music station when you… you know, need to go.’

  He sat and read a copy of the Daily Record while Samantha had breakfast. After she’d finished, she said, ‘How long do you intend keeping me here?’

  Pete folded the newspaper and placed it on the floor. ‘Until we get your ransom money. I think my mate expects no more than a couple of days.’ He gestured to the screen. ‘We’ve a mattress over there, too. You’ll be able to get your head down tonight.’

  ‘You’ll be watching over me while I sleep, too?’

  Pete glanced towards the door. ‘My mate doesn’t think that’s necessary. Unless you misbehave.’

  ‘Misbehave?’

  ‘You know, start making a noise.’

  ‘I thought you said this house was isolated?’

  Pete said, ‘It is, but my mate thinks we can’t be too careful. Sound carries at night, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Where am I being held, Pete?’ Samantha said. ‘Somewhere in the city?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Pete said. ‘You know I can’t tell you that.’

  She shook her head. ‘Your mate, you think he’ll let me go if my father pays the ransom?’

  ‘Of course, Samantha. Why wouldn’t he?’

  Chapter Four

  ‘I’ve a feeling Tavener’s not telling us the truth,’ Knox was saying. He and Fulton were on the B1348, driving back through a small village called Dirleton.

  ‘You think he’s heard from the kidnappers?’ Fulton said.

  Knox nodded. ‘Uh-huh. Something about the way he acted when I asked him if he’d been contacted.’

  Fulton said, ‘He hesitated, didn’t he? Appeared uncomfortable.’

  ‘Aye, particularly interested that we’re able to intercept mobile calls,’ Knox said. ‘But it was his reaction to the tracking device that made me guess something’s amiss.’

  ‘You picked up on that, too?’ Fulton said. ‘He spoke about “The man” at first, then quickly changed it to “These men”.’

  Knox nodded.

  ‘The kidnappers have the girl’s mobile,’ Fulton said. ‘They could have sent him a text.’

  ‘Or phoned,’ Knox said. ‘Made a specific threat.’

  Knox slowed the car to negotiate some roadworks. ‘The tracker,’ he said. ‘He didn’t make an outright refusal, but seemed unhappy about the prospect of our using it.’

  ‘You think he might withhold permission?’

  Knox shook his head. ‘No, I’m thinking of another scenario.’

  ‘Aye?’

  Knox was stopped at a further set of roadworks by a man holding a Stop Go sign with the “Stop” side facing him. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  ‘Let’s suppose the kidnappers have already got to him. Their message? Pay the ransom and leave the police out of it or your daughter dies. They allow him, say, two days to organise the money: Friday. They phone or text him then with instructions to pick up the cash and how and where to deliver it. Meanwhile the Tulliallan boys sit on their thumbs – no contact of any kind.’

  ‘But they’d see him leave the house, wouldn’t they?’ Fulton said. ‘Report it to us?’

  The man with the sign turned it to “Go” and Knox moved off. ‘Uh-huh,’ he replied. ‘Which would mean we might tail Tavener and see him deliver the money without the tracker. The kidnappers have a greater chance of escaping, less chance of us discovering where his daughter’s being held. She’d be in far greater danger.’

  Fulton nodded. ‘But how can we avoid that?’

  Knox shook his head. ‘A long shot, would depend on the bank’s cooperation.’

  ‘Forth Mercantile?’

  ‘Yes,’ Knox said. ‘One of the managers at the St Andrew Square office is an old mate. We were at the same school in the Borders together. Over the years, we’ve kept in touch. I could ask him to let me know if Tavener requests a significant withdrawal in the next few days. If he does, I can ask them to include the tracker. It would let us follow the money without him knowing.’

  ‘They’d do that? Without Tavener’s knowledge or consent, I mean.’

  Knox shook his head. ‘Tricky one. I’d have to get Warburton to sanction a special order.’

  ‘Think he’d agree?’

  ‘Maybe. Any repercussions, he’d be putting his head on the block. However, if it were the only way of making sure Samantha was safe…’

  ‘But how can we be sure the kidnappers have approached Tavener?’ Fulton said.

  ‘That’s the key question,’ Knox replied. ‘We’d need to be sure they have.’

  Knox tapped a number into a keypad on the dash and switched on the car’s speakers. There was a momentary hum followed by a dialling tone, and a moment later they heard a voice.

  ‘Hathaway.’

  ‘Mark?’ Knox said. �
�The Tulliallan lads been in touch from North Berwick yet?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Fifteen minutes ago.’

  ‘Link set up okay?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Active at their end and ours.’

  ‘Good. Mark, one other thing. I’d like you to get in touch with the DirectFone mobile network and ask them if any calls or texts were made on Samantha Tavener’s phone in the last sixteen hours. Tell them it’s urgent.’

  ‘Will do, boss.’

  ‘Fine,’ Knox said. ‘Bill and I will be back in about thirty minutes. Hopefully we’ll have an answer by then.’

  * * *

  When Knox and Fulton arrived back at the station, Hathaway hadn’t heard from the DirectFone service.

  Knox glanced at his watch. ‘What time did you call them, Mark?’

  ‘Around eleven-thirty,’ Hathaway said. ‘Told me they were busy, boss. Said they’d get to it as soon as they could.’

  ‘Okay. Let me know when you hear.’ Knox gestured to DCI Warburton’s office at the end of the room. ‘I’ll be with the DCI for the next ten minutes.’

  A short while later, Knox had relayed the gist of his meeting with Tavener, explaining his reasons for believing that the kidnappers had made an approach. He also told his boss about his contact at Forth Mercantile, and his plan to go ahead with a trace.

  ‘I’m sure DirectFone will confirm contact’s been made, sir,’ Knox was saying. ‘Which leads me to think that Tavener intends acting without us. If the kidnappers take possession of the money without the trace, there’s a fair risk of them getting away. We’d also lose our only means of discovering where Samantha’s held.’

  Warburton considered this for a moment, then said, ‘This lad you know at Forth Mercantile, Jack. You trust him? No chance of his informing Tavener?’

  ‘If he gave me his word, sir, I’m absolutely sure he’d keep it.’

  ‘Okay,’ Warburton said. ‘I’ll sanction the order. One caveat, though: the mobile phone people must unequivocally confirm contact’s been made.’

  ‘I’ll make sure of it, sir,’ Knox said. ‘Thank you.’

  Knox left Warburton’s office and went back to his desk. Moments later, Hathaway came over waving a sheet of paper.

  ‘Just received this from DirectFone, boss,’ he said.

  Knox glanced up, a look of optimism on his face. ‘It confirms Tavener was contacted on his DirectFone number?’

  ‘No, boss, it doesn’t.’

  Knox scowled. ‘Damn!’ he said.

  ‘Wait, boss,’ Hathaway said. ‘Something else.’

  ‘What?’ Knox said, sounding irritated.

  ‘The engineer who carried out the test double checked the transmitter that relays the signals. Found a call from a pay and go mobile to Tavener’s house had been made on the SpeedFone network. All mobile phone companies in the area use the same transmitter mast.’

  ‘The SpeedFone network?’ Knox said.

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘But Tavener told me he was with DirectFone.’

  ‘Can only mean one thing,’ Hathaway said. ‘Tavener has more than one mobile phone.’

  Knox gave a slow nod. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘The kidnappers sent another one to him. What time was the SpeedFone call made?’

  Hathaway glanced at the print-out. ‘9.12am, boss,’ he said. ‘The call lasted four minutes.’

  ‘Nine-twelve. Three-quarters of an hour before Bill and I arrived. So, he lied. He had been contacted.’

  ‘The call came from a landline in Portobello,’ Hathaway said. ‘I checked. It’s a phone box near the town hall.’

  ‘Good work, Mark,’ Knox said. ‘No doubt the caller drove there from wherever Samantha’s being held. Narrows it down a bit. I’d guess it’s somewhere in the area.’

  Warburton left his office then, headed for lunch. Knox intercepted him and told him the news.

  ‘Okay, Jack,’ he said. ‘That’s good enough for me. Go ahead and ring your man at the bank.’

  * * *

  After lunch, Knox met the other members of his team and updated them on Tavener’s likely response to a ransom demand and the action being taken.

  ‘I’ve just spoken to a manager at Forth Mercantile Bank, a friend of mine,’ Knox was saying. ‘He’s received a faxed sanction order from DCI Warburton and has agreed to update us on any withdrawal requests made by Tavener. He’ll also advise when the cash is to be uplifted.

  ‘Meantime, there’s a line of inquiry I’d like to pursue. When Bill and I interviewed Samantha’s flatmate, Claudia Wright, she told us Tavener’s daughter had a student friend called Lorna Watt.’ Knox paused and nodded to Mason. ‘Yvonne, I’d like you to ring the Old College at South Bridge. Arrange an interview between you, Mark and Ms Watt ASAP. See if we can get a better picture of Samantha. Who she knew: acquaintances, friends, boyfriends and the like. I want to know more about her personal life.’

  * * *

  Glassel House was one of two U-shaped blocks which stood opposite each other within the Pollock Halls of Residence student complex. The complex stood in twelve acres of ground in the shadow of Arthur’s Seat, part of Holyrood Park, a vast area of parkland in the middle of Edinburgh.

  DC Mason had called the Bursar’s office at the Old College earlier and asked to speak to Lorna Watt, but was told the student wasn’t available. Mason left her mobile number and Watt called back and arranged to meet the detectives at 4pm in her room at Glassel House, situated at the end of a short access driveway off Holyrood Park Road.

  Hathaway drove to an adjacent car park, then he and Mason walked the short distance to the block. Flat 19 was situated on the third floor, halfway along a corridor at the front of the building.

  Hathaway’s knock was answered by a mousey-looking female in her late twenties.

  ‘Yes?’ she said.

  Mason said, ‘Lorna Watt?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘Ellie Anderson, her roommate.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Lorna’s expecting you.’ She turned and raised her voice. ‘Lorna, your visitors are here.’

  ‘Okay, Ellie,’ a voice replied. ‘Ask them to come in.’

  Anderson indicated a door at the end of a short corridor. ‘The sitting room,’ she said. ‘Just along there.’

  Mason and Hathaway went inside, then Anderson held up a book. ‘I was on my way out,’ she said. ‘Headed for the campus library.’

  Mason nodded, then Anderson took her leave. As she closed the door, a strawberry blonde exited the sitting room. ‘Sorry, I’m not long back,’ she said, smiling. ‘Do come in.’

  ‘You’re Lorna Watts?’ Mason said.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, then ushered Mason and Hathaway into the sitting room and indicated a trio of chairs placed around a small dining table. ‘Please, take a seat. You’ll have to excuse the mess. Haven’t got around to tidying up yet.’

  Mason and Hathaway sat down, then Watt took a chair opposite and leaned on the table. ‘You wanted to talk about Samantha. She wasn’t in class today. I hope nothing’s wrong?’

  Mason ignored the question. ‘When did you last see her?’ she said.

  Watt frowned, thinking. ‘Yesterday evening around six. We’d attended a lecture.’

  ‘What time did it finish?’ Mason said.

  ‘Around five-thirty. I asked her if she was going straight home, but she told me she was going for a swim first at the Commonwealth Pool. It’s just along the road from here.’

  Mason nodded. ‘You accompanied her as far as the pool?’

  ‘Yes. It was a nice night. We walked up from South Bridge. I said cheerio when we got to the pool.’

  ‘You and Samantha are friends?’ Hathaway said.

  Watt nodded. ‘Yeah, we pal around a bit. Like me, she’s studying law. We share a lot of interests. You know, music, movies, having the occasional drink, talking about relationships, that sort of thing.’ Watt was suddenly serious. ‘Look, has something happened to her? You really must tell me.’

  ‘I’m
afraid she’s gone missing,’ Hathaway said. ‘We think she may have been kidnapped.’

  Watt’s cheeks blanched. ‘Oh God no,’ she said. ‘Who could possibly do that?’

  Again, Mason didn’t answer her question. ‘You talked about relationships. Is Samantha seeing someone?’

  Watt nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, she is.’

  ‘You know his name?’

  There was a short silence, then Watt said. ‘It’s not a man.’

  ‘Samantha’s gay?’ Hathaway said.

  Watt shook her head. ‘I’m heterosexual, and it’s never made any difference to our friendship but, yes, Samantha is gay.’

  Mason said, ‘Who’s she seeing, do you know?’

  ‘An older woman, a lecturer at the university. Samantha has sworn me never to tell anyone. She fears knowledge of their relationship might affect the lecturer’s career.’

  ‘I understand,’ Mason said. ‘But we’d still have to speak to her. I can assure you their relationship would remain confidential.’

  Watt hesitated, biting her lip. ‘Catherine Sinclair,’ she said. ‘She’s a part-time solicitor with Abercrombie and Lyall. Lectures at the college three days a week.’

  ‘You’ve met Ms Sinclair?’ Hathaway asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Watt said. ‘Samantha, Catherine and I occasionally have a drink together.’

  Mason said, ‘Do you know if Samantha had a falling out with anyone lately, or if anything out of the ordinary has happened to her?’

  Watt shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know. Samantha’s such a sweet-natured person. She gets along well with everyone.’

  Mason nodded, then closed her notebook and stood up. ‘Okay Lorna, thanks. I think that’ll do for now. If there’s anything else, we’ll be in touch.’

  Watt stood and escorted them to the door. ‘That’s okay,’ she said. ‘I pray you find her soon.’

  * * *

  Hathaway’s mobile rang just as he and Mason reached the car. He took the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Hello, boss,’ he said.

  ‘Mark? You and Yvonne finished with Ms Watt yet?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Just this minute.’

  ‘Good,’ Knox said. ‘Look, DI Murray reminded me about Samantha’s laptop. He and his team would like to look it over, check for anything of significance. I just rang her flatmate Claudia Wright at Duddingston to confirm she has one.’