Lies to Tell

by Marion Todd

‘He says you were watching him through the door when he was having his breakfast this morning.’

  ‘I was having a wander about. Stretching my legs,’ she said. ‘Or is that a crime now?’

  Clare ignored this. ‘Why were you found running away in the grounds?’

  ‘Pfft. If you’d been in one of those places, Inspector, you wouldn’t have to ask. All that touchy-feely stuff – psychologists asking you how everything makes you feel. Does my fuckin’ head in. I’d had enough so I legged it.’

  Clare tried a few more questions then she ended the interview.

  Rose’s solicitor said, ‘Inspector, I cannot see you have any reason to hold Miss Grant any longer. She has answered your questions. There are no grounds to charge her with anything.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll think of something,’ Clare said. ‘Let’s try Interfering With a Witness, and Threatening Behaviour. I’d say that was enough to detain your client, pending her appearance in court.’ And, with that, she swept from the room, Chris following in her wake.

  Outside, he said, ‘She’s not going to be an easy one to crack.’

  ‘Nor am I, Chris,’ Clare said, her expression grim. ‘Nor am I.’

  In the car park Clare said, ‘I’m going to head back to see Marek. Can you check on those possible transport links please?’

  Chris went to his car to start making phone calls. Clare jumped into the Merc and headed back along Waterend Road, turning towards St Andrews. As she drove, she called Jim, switching the phone to speaker.

  ‘We’ve got Tamsin’s phone number, Clare, so they’re checking masts now. Meantime there are lots of numbers stored. We’re working our way through them as fast as we can. There could be more money mules among them or who knows what else.’

  ‘Good work, Jim. I’ll be back soon to speak to Marek. Let me know if anything else comes to light.’

  She was out of Cupar now driving through lush countryside as she approached Dairsie, a small village built mainly around the road that ran through it. A tractor with a forage harvester attached was making its way along the field next to the road, cutting grass for silage. The field on the opposite side was dotted with sheep, their heads bowed as they grazed. Clare slowed for the twenty miles an hour speed sign and drove carefully through the village, past the low-built houses that bordered the road. Beyond the village she carried on past the roundabout towards Guardbridge. A mile further on the road and verges widened, and she saw the flagpoles at the entrance to Clayton Caravan Park. Marek had believed he would be safe at the caravan park in Tayport but Rose Grant had still found him. Having witnessed first-hand how intimidating Rose could be, Clare thought it was no wonder he had taken flight. Poor lad. He was paying a heavy price for his stupidity.

  She had gone through Guardbridge now, passing the chip shop where she and Chris had enjoyed the furtive fish suppers the previous night. She had to hope Sara never found out about that! She drove on and was just passing the Balgove Steak Barn when Jim phoned again.

  ‘I think Tamsin Quinn must be driving west,’ he said. ‘She’s pinged a mast near Balmullo. It’s on a small hill above the village called Lucklawhill.’

  ‘Where do you reckon she’s heading, Jim?’

  ‘Well, Balmullo would take her on to Cupar, although there are more direct ways of getting there. But, beyond Cupar, she could go south to Edinburgh or even over the Clackmannanshire Bridge towards Glasgow.’

  Clare ended the call and drove on, lost in thought. Something in the far reaches of her mind was niggling. If only she could think what it was.

  And then she remembered.

  Chapter 32

  Clare dialled Chris’s number again, cursing her own lack of local knowledge. It was more than a year now since she had transferred from the busy Maryhill Road station in Glasgow and she knew her way around St Andrews all right. She was familiar with the little villages that peppered north-east Fife too. But when it came to the network of narrow roads that ran between the villages she still occasionally struggled.

  He answered after a couple of rings. ‘I’m just about done here, Clare. I’ll be heading back in a few minutes.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ she said. ‘What do you know about a place called Lucklawhill?’

  ‘The hill near Balmullo?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘Not very big. Nice walk with good views but there are masts that spoil the look of it a bit.’

  ‘Where do you walk from?’ Clare asked.

  ‘Depends. If you’re coming from the west you’d take the A92 then turn off at the signpost for Logie. It’s a tiny hamlet a few miles south of the road. There’s a place where you can park just before the village. Depending on how fast you want to go, the walk to the top might take twenty or thirty minutes.’

  Clare considered this then said, ‘What about if you were coming from St Andrews?’

  ‘Much easier. Head for Balmullo and, as soon as you enter the village, take the first right. Hayston Park, it’s called. Follow this along until you pass the school then, at the junction, turn right again. Carry on through the village until you see the Quarry Road going up to the left. There’s a mast up ahead – if you see that you’re on the right road.’

  ‘There’s a quarry?’

  ‘Yeah. You’ve heard of Balmullo chips? The pink gravel for driveways? Decent parking at the quarry too, if you don’t mind a few potholes.’

  ‘Is that where the road ends?’

  ‘No – it carries on past the quarry, round the side of the hill. It comes out at the other end – at Logie. Clare – why are you asking this?’

  ‘Because Tamsin Quinn has pinged that mast you were talking about.’

  ‘You got her number from Marek?’

  ‘Yep. So she’s either at, or passing through, Balmullo. And, so far, she hasn’t pinged any other masts. So I think she might still be there.’

  ‘Unless her phone’s switched off.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Clare,’ Chris said, ‘why would she hang about? If she’s involved with the money laundering and Johannes’s death, don’t you think she’d want to get as far away from St Andrews as possible? I certainly would.’

  ‘Agreed. But there’s one other thing…’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Her mother. She used to take Tamsin up Lucklawhill to watch the air displays at Leuchars when she was little. She told me that when we first brought her to St Andrews. What’s more, she scattered her mother’s ashes on Lucklawhill. So, if she is heading off somewhere for a new life…’

  ‘She could be up there now, saying goodbye.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Clare heard the sound of Chris starting his car engine.

  ‘So how do you want to play it, Clare?’

  ‘Can you call the desk sergeant at Cupar and ask him to send a car round to Logie please? You can explain the location better than me. Any cars parked near the hill itself, I want them checked against the list of taxis, hire cars and sales of new cars. If we get a match, we’ve found her. And, if they do find her, they need to close the road and call for reinforcements. I’ll head for Balmullo and make for the quarry. If we can block the road off at either end we can stop her going any further.’

  ‘Clare – you should wait for reinforcements.’

  ‘I can handle Tamsin Quinn,’ Clare said. ‘Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘It’s not Tamsin I’m worried about,’ Chris said. ‘Think – who’s been dogging her footsteps all week?’

  Clare swore under her breath. Paddy Grant. She had forgotten him.

  ‘If Paddy somehow has managed to follow Tamsin,’ Chris went on, ‘he won’t let you stand in his way. Think about this: why has Paddy been sticking around?’

  ‘To frighten Tamsin. Stop her testifying against Phil. But that’s all over now.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Chris persisted. ‘Think about it, Clare: Paddy took a huge chance, making himself so visible these past few days. Do you honestly think i
t was all out of loyalty to Phil?’

  ‘You think he was worried Tamsin would testify against him too?’

  ‘I’d have thought so. He knows there’s an arrest warrant out for him but, if Tamsin was out of the way, it could be hard to make charges stick.’

  ‘But Tamsin has a new identity now, and a new life. And, given Phil was the main prize, I doubt they’d risk her safety by bringing her back to testify against Paddy. Oh wait…’ She tailed off as light dawned. ‘Phil doesn’t know that – her new identity. He doesn’t know she’s heading off for a new life…’

  ‘…so he’s still after her,’ Chris finished. ‘And Paddy’s going to see to it there’s no new life for Tamsin.’

  ‘Then it’s even more important we get to her first,’ Clare said. ‘I want her put away for what she’s done.’ And with that, she ended the call. She saw a farm gate up ahead and hit the brakes, performing a swift three-point turn. She was going to Balmullo to find Tamsin Quinn and she meant to get there before Paddy Grant.

  Chapter 33

  It didn’t take Clare long to reach the village and she slowed as she approached the Welcome to Balmullo sign. A glance to her left gave her a view across Leuchars to the Eden Estuary where the river met the North Sea, not far from St Andrews. She could only imagine the views from the summit of Lucklawhill would be even more impressive. She was looking out for a right turn – Hayston Park, Chris had said. Luckily it was signposted for Lucklawhill and she swung the Merc round into a residential street. It curved gently and, despite the urgency of her mission, she slowed her speed for fear of causing an accident. At the T-junction there was no further sign for the hill but she turned right as directed by Chris. The road narrowed and began to rise up and she knew she was on the lower slopes of the hill itself. A horse rider was up ahead, astride a magnificent chestnut animal, and she slowed to a crawl. The rider glanced over her shoulder and steered the horse into a driveway to allow Clare to pass. As she did so, the houses began to thin out and she approached a crossroads. A blue and green cycle path sign pointed up to the left and a road sign sunk into the verge read Quarry Road. Clare took a left and headed up the road in search of the quarry. She immediately saw the mast up ahead and knew she was heading in the right direction.

  It was a single-track road, with passing places, and she met a few cars as she climbed up towards the quarry. She scanned the drivers’ faces carefully as they passed but none of them looked anything like Tamsin. There were one or two houses dotted along the left-hand side, the hill itself to the right; and then the road began to level out as it skirted round the side of the hill. There was a sign for the quarry up ahead and, as she approached the gates, she reached a large clearing, surfaced in pink gravel from the quarry. A line of cars was parked to the back of the clearing and, judging by the tyre marks, it was also used to allow lorries to turn. Up ahead the road carried on, to Logie presumably. It seemed to become even narrower with a fair sprinkling of potholes and Clare decided she would take the Merc no further. In her rear-view mirror she saw the familiar blue and yellow markings of a police car and she pulled off into the gravel parking area to await its arrival.

  Sara drew in alongside Clare’s car and jumped out, Robbie in the passenger seat beside her.

  Clare explained the situation. ‘I’d like this road closed, now. Any cars wishing to proceed are to be searched and the occupants faces checked against the photos we have of Tamsin. She has a new identity now so names and addresses are pretty meaningless.’

  ‘What if we do find her, boss?’ Sara asked.

  ‘Certainly no heroics,’ Clare said and Sara flushed, recalling an incident earlier in the year when she had ended up seriously injured after tackling a suspect. Sara’s actions had helped arrest the culprit but she had almost paid too high a price. She nodded and, seeing this, Clare continued.

  ‘If you do think you’ve found her, tell her there’s been an accident further along the road, depending on which direction she’s coming from. Then radio me and ask how long it’ll take to clear the accident. As soon as I hear that message I’ll know you have her and I’ll send reinforcements. Okay?’

  The pair nodded and Clare walked over to the line of parked cars. Then she took out her phone and called Chris.

  ‘Any luck with those cars?’

  ‘Getting there. I’ve spoken to the taxi firms in the town. Only two taxis did runs to the railway stations and both customers were males.’

  ‘Still could be Tamsin,’ Clare said. ‘Doubtful, I know. But we can’t chance it. I bet taxi drivers don’t look at their fares too closely. Get the railway station footage for up to an hour after pick-up. Anything else?’

  ‘I’ve still to do sales of new cars. But I’ve done the hire cars – not many. Two from Dundee, one from Cupar and two from Kirkcaldy.’

  ‘Okay, Chris. I’m going to reel off registration numbers for the cars parked up at the Balmullo quarry. Can you check them against your hires please?’

  Clare worked her way along the row of parked cars but none of them matched. ‘Any word from the Cupar cops at Logie?’

  ‘Yeah, one car parked. A silver Nissan Juke. Doesn’t match any of the numbers we have for hire cars but Jim’s running it through the DVLA records to check if it changed hands in the last few days.’

  ‘Okay, Chris. Can you get back onto the Cupar cops and tell them I want the Logie end of the road blocked off please? Every car coming through is to be checked. Any female occupants, get them to check against Tamsin’s photo. Any doubt at all, get hold of me and I’ll drive over and take a look myself. Or, better still, draft Wendy, the FLO, in. She knows Tamsin better than anyone.’

  ‘Will do, Clare. Is that it?’

  Clare stood, looking out over the Fife countryside, the sound of quarry works grinding away behind her. Had she covered everything? There was certainly no sign of Tamsin here. ‘Has she pinged any more mobile masts?’

  ‘Nope. So either the phone is off or she’s still in the area.’

  ‘Okay, Chris. Can you give me the details of the five hire cars please? It’s probably worth checking them against ANPR cameras too.’

  Chris reeled off details of the five cars and Clare noted them down. There was a blue Ford Focus Estate, a black Vauxhall Corsa, a dark blue Renault Captur and two Hondas: a white CR-V and a red Jazz. None of the cars in the car park matched these and, with a wave to Sara and Robbie, she climbed into the Merc and circled round to head back down the single-track road to Balmullo. As she drove, she stopped at the gateways of the houses she passed to check their vehicles but she could see none that resembled the list of hire cars Chris had given her.

  As she reached the end of the single-track road she turned back towards the village. A bell was sounding, somewhere distant. For a minute she thought it was a burglar alarm and then she realised it was the local primary school. She glanced at the car clock and saw it was three o’clock. The end of the school day. As she approached the T-junction once more she saw the children, spilling out onto the pavement, some dawdling along, others wobbling on bikes, with outsize helmets. Clare slowed down, as she had for the horse and rider, giving the brave few riding on the road as wide a berth as she could. They seemed so happy and carefree and she thought about her nephew James. Coming to stay tomorrow! Goodness, she’d better get organised for him. It didn’t look as if she was going to be able to tie up this investigation for the weekend. But she had booked the time off and arranged with one of the Cupar inspectors to cover her area so she would just have to walk away and concentrate on her family for a change.

  She reached the end of the road and sat, her engine idling for a few minutes while she tried to decide what to do: head back to St Andrews or hang about here on the off chance of seeing Tamsin. And then she remembered there was a Spar shop further along the road. It had been a long day and she could feel herself flagging. Maybe some chocolate would give her a boost. She pulled out into the main road and began driving along towards the Spar. And then
her stomach lurched and she hit the brakes. A car behind her gave an angry peep and pulled out to overtake, giving her the finger as he went. But Clare saw none of that.

  She only saw the red Honda Jazz parked outside the village shop.

  Chapter 34

  Clare’s fingers trembled as she swiped to find Chris’s number, one eye on the red Honda.

  It only rang twice before he answered but it seemed like an eternity.

  ‘Clare?’

  ‘Chris, I need a couple of cars and as many bodies as you can get blocking off all roads in and out of Balmullo.’

  ‘You’ve found her?’

  ‘Think so. There’s a red Honda Jazz sitting outside the Spar shop in the village.’

  ‘Which way is it facing?’

  ‘Towards Cupar. I’m behind it, near Hayston Park.’

  ‘Checked the reg?’

  ‘Yep. It’s one of the hire cars from the list you gave me. It’s too much of a coincidence, it being in Balmullo. Chris, it’s Tamsin. I know it.’ She listened as she heard Chris on the radio, requesting cars at either end of the village. After a minute or two he came back on the phone.

  ‘Cars on the way but they’ll be five minutes at least. The Cupar car’s closer so should be a bit quicker.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Clare said. ‘I’m sitting at the other end.’

  ‘You could call Sara down from Lucklawhill.’

  Clare considered this, her eyes firmly fixed on the red Honda. There was no sign of it shifting. It was hard to see from where she had parked, but she was fairly sure it was empty. Was Tamsin in the shop? Or had she abandoned it and picked up another car? If that was the case they’d have no idea where she’d gone. But, unless she’d switched off her phone or left it behind in the red Honda, she was still in the area. Was it worth the risk, moving Sara and Robbie from their post at the quarry? She decided it wasn’t. ‘I’d rather not, Chris. Just in case I’m wrong about the red Honda. It could be a coincidence and, if she is on the hill, I don’t want her escaping.’