Clare woke early on Tuesday morning. Even with the blackout blinds she could see it was light outside, but she had no idea of the time. Her head felt thick from the wine and she reached for the glass of water at her bedside, draining it in one go.
She checked her phone and was relieved to find no messages or missed calls. Then she heard Benjy, clearly unsettled in his new surroundings. She had made him a bed at the top of the stairs with her spare room duvet, enticing him there with a trail of dog biscuits. But now, thanks to the sun rising just after five, he was awake and looking for attention.
She padded across the floor and opened the door. He rushed in, tail going nineteen to the dozen.
‘You know what?’ she said to his upturned face, ‘I think I’m going to miss you.’ She shoved her feet into slippers and went downstairs, the dog at her heels. In the kitchen, she freshened his water and poured some of his dried food into the other ice cream tub. How often did you feed a dog? She hadn’t a clue. Still, he would be reunited with Jennifer Gilmartin this afternoon, once Jim brought her back from the airport. Jennifer’s flight was due in just after two o’clock so hopefully Jim would have her in St Andrews by four. In a bizarre coincidence, DCI Gibson had booked her a room at the Kenlybank Hotel, where Andy Robb had met his fate on Saturday night. But it was no longer a crime scene and only a few miles from her home, so it made sense.
‘Get to the airport a bit early, please, Jim,’ Clare had said, when the DCI was out of earshot. ‘I want to make absolutely sure that she did go to Amsterdam and that she’s only flying back today. Not a word to anyone else, mind?’
The dog food disappeared almost as quickly as Clare had put it out. She squinted at the instructions on the pack and reckoned she’d probably underfed him, so she poured some more into the tub. Again, he devoured it as if he hadn’t seen food for days. She opened the back door to let Benjy out and he scampered off to find somewhere to pee. The phone rang. Clare’s heart sank. But then she saw it was her sister and made an effort to brighten.
‘Jude. Great to hear from you.’ Her voice was husky from the wine and she cleared her throat. ‘Are you all okay? It’s a bit early for a chat.’ Clare could hear whimpering in the background. ‘How’s my nephew?’
‘Teething, which is why I’m up at stupid o’clock. Again.’
‘Oh God. Remind me not to have kids.’
‘Listen, Clare, Mum rang me. Tom was round—’
Clare’s heart sank. ‘Don’t tell me. He told her about the private prosecution.’
‘Yes. You never mentioned it. When did you find out?’
‘The letter came a few days ago. Just haven’t had time to open it.’
‘Ten days ago, Tom told Mum. Look, Clare, she’s worried about you. Dad too. We all are.’
Clare sighed. ‘Jude, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s gone to the Lord Advocate for a decision. If he thinks there’s sufficient evidence to proceed against me it’ll go to court. If not, it won’t.’
‘But Tom said—’
‘Tom is irrelevant.’
Benjy started to scratch at the back door, but Clare was too distracted to notice.
‘Oh Clare, come on. That’s not true. He still loves you. You know he does.’
Clare was dying for a coffee. She put the phone on speaker and filled the kettle.
‘You could come back to Glasgow, you know,’ Jude went on. ‘Tom said he’d heard they were missing you. I think he misses you too…’
‘Tom…’ Clare began, then she didn’t know what else to say.
‘Clare, he knows how difficult it was for you. I think he genuinely regrets not being more of a support. Maybe if you met you could…’
‘Jude, I can’t talk to you about Tom. He’s part of that time in Glasgow. I had to leave it behind. And now this prosecution might happen, well – until I know – I can’t think about Tom, or anyone else.’
‘Tom says…’
There was a muffled wuff from outside, and then another, but Clare was too busy fending off her sister.
‘What Tom says doesn’t matter any more, Jude. I wanted him with me. At the Inquiry. I wanted him there and he wouldn’t come.’
‘Yes I know, Clare. But think how difficult it was for him, with Jamiesons representing the Ritchies. He was in a tricky position.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Clare said, her voice harder than she had meant. ‘He was having a really hard time!’
Benjy was barking now. The kettle came to the boil with a rush of steam. Clare spooned coffee into the cafetière as her sister continued to plead Tom’s case.
‘But he was there for you, wasn’t he? Oh maybe not at the Inquiry but – Clare, is that a dog I can hear?’
Clare opened the door to let an excited Benjy back in. He wagged his tail at her. She raised her eyebrows at him, indicating the phone.
‘It’s a long story,’ Clare said. ‘I’ll fill you in later but I’ve a double murder on the go just now.’
‘Phone me when you can then, yeah?’
‘I will. And tell Mum and Dad to stop worrying. Tom did message me to recommend a shit-hot criminal advocate so, if it comes to it, I’ll be well represented. And the federation will pay the fees. Now I really must go, Jude. Kiss James for me.’
Clare put down her phone and watched Benjy. He was chasing his tail round and round in her sitting room and had already knocked the TV remote control to the floor. ‘Looks like someone could do with a walk.’
Clare arrived at the station just before eight, feeling as if she’d done half a day’s work already. Was it always this tiring, having a dog? Benjy, now fed and exercised, resumed his position on the front office counter from where he kept a beady eye on the morning’s events. At half past eight, DCI Gibson called a briefing.
‘Before we start, we’re joined by three detectives from Edinburgh. Connor, Steve and Phil – appreciate your help, lads. Make them welcome, please, everyone.’
The three newcomers sat perched on desks in near-identical sharp suits. One was looking round the room without enthusiasm. The others nodded their thanks and the DCI carried on.
‘So, Inspector, what do we know about the brewery?’
Clare moved to where she could see everyone clearly. ‘Bruce Gilmartin was a popular boss, staff mostly upset, although the general manager seems over keen to step into his boss’s shoes. Otherwise, the business appears healthy – they’re planning a takeover of rivals near Dundee. McMillan’s.’
‘Which we know is unwelcome.’
‘Yes. I spoke to the MD yesterday but don’t think there’s anything there to interest us. They weren’t friends but she seemed genuinely shocked by Mr Gilmartin’s death.’
‘Okay,’ the DCI said. ‘Anything else?’
‘His PA said he did charity work on Thursday nights. Chris is looking into local charities to find out if he had any links with them.’
‘Any luck?’ The DCI looked over at Chris.
‘Sorry, sir,’ Chris said. ‘Nothing so far.’
‘I can help with that,’ Jim offered, and Chris nodded his thanks.
The DCI turned back to Clare. ‘What about his bank statements? You took them home last night, Inspector.’
‘Sorry, sir – after feeding the dog, then myself, I fell asleep.’
‘Make that a priority this morning, then.’
Clare nodded. Jim raised a hand.
‘Sergeant?’ The DCI looked faintly nettled by the interruption.
‘I brought back a file of papers from the house. I think there are some credit card statements there.’
‘Let me have them, Jim, and I’ll go through them too,’ Clare said.
The phone rang and Chris went to answer it.
‘Now, we hope to hear back from Tech Support this morning,’ the DCI said. ‘With luck, they’ll pick something up from the computers DS West took down last night. Whoever takes that call: I want to be informed immediately.’
A few cops nodded at this and he continued.
‘Anyone been round the pubs and hotels to ask about Thursday nights?’
‘Not yet, boss, but it’s on the list.’ Clare told him.
‘Let’s get that done today, then. Photos of both victims please.’
Clare looked at the Edinburgh lads. ‘Sara will help you with a list of likely places and the locations.’
They nodded but said nothing. One of them, Phil, looked Sara up and down then gave her a wink. She returned his gaze, her face stony.
Chris returned. ‘SOCO,’ he told them.
DCI Gibson raised an eyebrow. ‘And?’
‘They managed to cast part of a tyre track at the Gilmartins’ house. It’s not a great imprint, so they can’t be absolutely sure, but it does look like the same kind of tyre that ran over Andy Robb. On balance, they reckon it’s probably a match. Definitely not the Gilmartins’ Range Rover, though.’
‘And the numbered cards?’ Clare asked.
He shook his head. ‘Clear prints on both, but not the same person and neither set of prints on the system.’
‘What sort of murderer leaves a card on a body covered with his prints?’ Phil asked.
‘It’s a fair point,’ Clare said. ‘I’m guessing, as the prints aren’t on our system, they didn’t see it as a problem. Not everyone’s that way minded.’
Phil shrugged at this.
‘So, it might not be the same vehicle,’ DCI Gibson said.
‘No. But it’s a bit of a stretch having two near-identical cars running folk over,’ Chris said.
‘I agree,’ said Clare. ‘There’s the similarity in MO plus the similarity in the tyre tracks.’
‘But there’s something else,’ Chris went on. ‘The first card – the one with the number five on it – doesn’t have a full set of prints.’
‘That’s not particularly unusual, though,’ Clare said. ‘Criminals aren’t always so obliging.’
‘No, I don’t mean that. They said it was like the middle finger wasn’t long enough to make a proper print.’
‘Eh?’
Chris held up his notepad to demonstrate. ‘See my notepad? The way I’m holding it means there would be a thumb print on one side and fingers on the other. That’s the normal way someone would hold a piece of paper or card.’
‘But?’
‘But we have three clear fingerprints and one smudge where the middle finger would normally be. Like there was a finger there, but the tip was missing.’
‘Covered with a plaster or something?’
‘Not according to SOCO. A dressing on the finger would have made it longer and the print, or smudge, would have been further up. This was lower down than the other prints and they think it’s almost certainly been caused by a shorter finger. And not from birth because that would still have had a print. This has been an accident or surgery.’
The DCI was becoming impatient. ‘So, let me get this straight. We have two murders, both hit-and-runs. SOCO think it was the same car, but they can’t be sure; and we have two sets of fingerprints, one with the tip of a middle finger missing, neither of which we have on the system?’
‘That’s about it.’
Clare had to admire Chris’s deadpan response. He really didn’t give a toss what the DCI thought.
DCI Gibson turned to Clare. ‘You’ve a lot to sort out, here, Inspector. I sincerely hope you’re up to the job.’ He marched off into Clare’s office and slammed the door, causing Benjy to bark in alarm.
Clare went to soothe the dog, then set about directing the team. Sara unearthed a large map of the town and began explaining the area to Connor, Steve and Phil. Phil – Clare thought it was Phil at least – seemed more interested in Sara’s brown eyes than in the map.
‘Everything okay, lads?’ she called over to them and Phil focused his attention on the map.
‘I don’t like him,’ Chris muttered, adding, ‘sleazy bastard.’
Clare patted him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t you worry – I’m sure Sara can handle herself.’
Chris muttered something about Sara having to put up with harassment and went off to print out photos of the victims. Having set the printer to work, he phoned Tech Support. Jim was working his way through charitable clubs in the area and everyone else was either interviewing friends of the victims or trawling through ANPR footage. Having satisfied herself that they all knew what they were doing, Clare took Benjy into an interview room and spread out the bank statements and bills on the desk. It was a tedious task. Endless transactions, mostly for less than a hundred pounds. She found herself wondering when she might hear from the Lord Advocate’s office. The sensible thing to do would be to phone Tom. He could put some feelers out. Then she dismissed the thought. She wouldn’t ask Tom for anything – ever again.
Chris appeared at the door. ‘Clare.’
She looked up. ‘Tech Support?’
He nodded. ‘Nothing on the office iMac, unless you really want to look deeper into the brewery finances. The home PC is also pretty much domestic stuff. But his own laptop…’
‘Let me guess – Tor again?’
‘Yep.’
‘Any similarity to the files we found on Andy Robb’s laptop?’
‘No, sorry. Nothing like that. I mean he could have a memory stick, like Andy’s, but we’ve not found one so far. A couple of the lads are heading back over to the Gilmartins’ house, though, to give it a last look over. I’ll get them to look out for memory sticks. Mind you, in a house that size,’ he tailed off.
‘Tor, though… that’s interesting. Another link, albeit a tiny one. Thanks, Chris. Let me know if you and Jim turn up any charities or clubs that meet on a Thursday. Oh, and you’d better let the DCI know about the laptop.’
‘Will do.’ He closed the door and Clare returned to her pile of bank statements. Having found nothing of note in Bruce Gilmartin’s personal bank accounts she turned to his credit card statements. Here, there were larger purchases. Lots of shopping. John Lewis, Harvey Nics – it might be a joint card with his wife. Or perhaps he was that rare breed – a man who liked to shop. After an hour or so of perusing the Gilmartins’ finances, Clare gave up and walked out into the main office to stretch her legs.
Jim saw her and came over. ‘I need to get away to the airport now, Clare,’ he said. ‘Just letting you know I’ve not had any luck with clubs or charities meeting every Thursday. Don’t think Chris has found any either.’ He looked across to Chris who shook his head.
‘And those we have found,’ Chris added, ‘don’t have Mr Gilmartin as a member. Or Andy Robb.’
Clare sighed. Maybe the pubs and restaurants would turn up something. The phone rang. She answered it.
‘Inspector Mackay…?’ The voice was hesitant. ‘It’s Angela Robb. There’s something I wanted to let you see. Could you come over, please?’
The street was quieter than it had been on Sunday. People would be at work, children at school. She parked behind Billy Dodds’ dark grey Qashqai. Clare was glad to see he was there again. She liked Billy and hoped he wouldn’t turn out to be involved in Andy Robb’s death. Angela Robb deserved some happiness. She rang the bell and Angela answered. She had put some make-up on, and looked brighter than she had on Sunday morning.
‘Cup of tea?’ she asked Clare.
‘I’d love one, if I’m not holding you back.’
‘No. Glad of the distraction, to be honest. Go in,’ she said, pushing open the sitting room door. ‘Billy’s here.’
Clare went in and found Billy with his feet up on the settee, watching TV.
‘Inspector,’ he acknowledged.
‘How are you, Mr Dodds?’
‘Yeah, doin’ away, ye ken. Taken a couple of days off to help Angela and that. She’s a bit better, like. Finally starting to see the benefit of that choob being gone.’
Clare wasn’t sure how to respond to this, so she changed tack. ‘Is she sleeping okay?’
‘Oh aye. She’s tired out, to be honest. The shock and all the upheaval. Funeral to arrange as well. Had the papers at the door. Soon gave them short shrift, though.’
Clare was alert. ‘What did they say?’
‘Something about another boy being run over. Out one of the country roads, like. Asking if Angela kent him. Didnae mean anything to us.’
Angela appeared carrying a tray and Billy jumped up to take it from her. ‘Billy telling you we had the press at the door?’
Clare nodded.
‘Another hit-and-run?’
‘I can’t really say much about it, Angela. But I did want to ask something.’
‘Yeah?’
‘We found a memory stick in Andy’s car.’
Angela looked blank. ‘So?’
‘Well, it looked as if he’d hidden it. Didn’t want it to be found.’
‘What was on it, like?’
‘Nothing much. A document we couldn’t open and a folder with some encrypted files.’
Angela raised an eyebrow. ‘Encrypted? Like you need a password?’
‘Something like that,’ Clare said. ‘Have you any idea what the files might be?’
Angela looked at Billy then back at Clare. ‘Sorry, not a clue.’
‘Fair enough. There was something else though…’
‘Yeah?’
‘A bit of software loaded onto the stick. It’s used to access parts of the internet without leaving any trace.’
Angela’s eyes narrowed. ‘What parts of the internet?’
‘That’s what we don’t know. I wondered if you could shed any light on it.’
Angela was clueless. ‘I’ve no idea what Andy got up to.’
‘It’ll be porn,’ Billy told her. ‘He was a right one for the women. You ken he was, Angela. Bet it was some of those illegal sites. Donkeys and that.’
Clare thought it best to disregard that last remark. She turned to Angela. ‘If anything does come to mind, will you let us know?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
Clare hesitated. ‘Also, this might seem a bit odd, but I wonder if you could both show me your hands?’
‘Hands?’ Billy’s face was a study. ‘What, these?’ He held out his hands for Clare to see.
She examined them closely, checked all the fingers. No blemishes, no missing fingertips. She smiled and let his hands go. Angela looked at Clare and held her hands out too. Again, Clare examined them closely. Angela’s fingertips were all present and correct.
‘Thank you both.’
‘Mind if I ask why?’ Billy wasn’t keen to let it go.
‘I’m afraid I can’t say at the moment. But I’m grateful for your co-operation.’ Clare drained her cup and turned to Angela. ‘There was something you wanted to show me?’
‘Right.’ Angela made for the door. ‘Follow me.’
Clare followed her across the hall into a dining room. It wasn’t a large room but big enough for a table and six chairs with a small sideboard opposite the door. The dining table was piled high with six or seven laptops. Clare looked at her.
‘Andy didn’t like getting rid of stuff. These are all broken. I said to him to take them into that shop in Market Street. They wipe them clean so they don’t have your bank details or anything like that. But he was suspicious, Andy. Didn’t trust folk. So, he hung onto them.’
‘How far back do these go?’
‘Some of them, I reckon, he’s had for nearly ten years. We’ve been in this house eleven years now and I certainly wouldn’t have paid the removal men to bring them from the last place. I’d actually forgotten about them. But I’ve started clearing out Andy’s stuff and these were up in the loft.’
‘Would you mind if I took them for our Tech Support guys to have a look at?’
Angela shook her head. ‘Keep them. I don’t want them back. You’ll be doing me a favour. I’ll get Billy to help you out to the car with them.’
Clare checked her watch. With luck, Jim would be back with Jennifer Gilmartin soon. Maybe she could send him down to Tech Support with the laptops. She started the engine and headed back to the station.