Detective Chief Superintendent Jane Borthwick was looking harassed. Weren’t they all, thought Strang a little tetchily. It had been a long hard day and to be told at the end that he didn’t seem to have accomplished anything was hard to take.
‘Oh, I know you’ve been doing your best, Kelso,’ she said in a tone that he, possibly unjustly, felt was patronising. ‘But I’m going to have to go out there and find a form of words to say that we have made an arrest, but somehow phrase it in a way that won’t lead to them accusing us of total incompetence when, if you’re right, we’ll have to let her go, probably tomorrow.’ She paused, then said, ‘I don’t suppose you could be wrong about that, could you?’
She’d sounded wistful. ‘Of course I could be,’ he said. ‘I’ve no proof, but to be honest I don’t think I am. Her confession was really no more than a statement that Perry Forsyth had killed her sister, so she had killed him, with no 296corroborative details – quite unusual, that, in my experience of genuine confessions. I think she thought if we’d someone ready to put up their hand to it we’d settle for that.’
‘If only!’ Borthwick sighed. ‘So you think, then, that she believes the boy did it?’
‘I suspect she may even know he did. But if you’re asking me if she was telling the truth when she denied knowing where he is now, I’d have to say I think she probably was.’
‘So he’s on the run, is he, with every incentive to lie low until she’s been charged, when he’ll nonchalantly stroll out of the bushes? Presumably this is how they worked it out?’
How did she expect him to know that? ‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’
She clearly wasn’t satisfied with that as an answer. ‘Hmm. The trouble is that even if we were in a position to charge her after you’d had a chance to question her, it won’t satisfy anyone unless we’re able to say the boy’s been found. And as I understand it, you’ve made no progress on that?’
‘Sorry, ma’am, no. There have been alleged sightings but under questioning they’ve all come to nothing.’
‘Right, then,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow is another day. What are you planning to do with it?’
He told her about the new line on Michael Erskine. ‘He claimed not to have seen Forsyth after their set-to, but there’s CCTV evidence that he went back, at least to the Black Isle, later in the day. Doesn’t actually prove anything, of course.’
Borthwick sighed again. ‘Story of our lives at the 297moment, isn’t it. And what about the inspector who’s allegedly bent? Where does he fit in the picture?’
Strang pulled a face. ‘He certainly had motive – Forsyth did the dirty on him by backing out of a little plan they’d made together for a luxury hotel at Drumdalloch, and I certainly wouldn’t put anything past Drummond, but the alibi seems to check out. I suspect the big story there is actually police corruption.’
‘That’s a problem that in this particular case, I’m happy to say, is someone else’s. I think DCS Anderson is well up to speed on that, in fact. Yes, given the unsafe confession I suppose all you can do is go on working on the homicide – broaden out the investigation, maybe? But the depressing thing is that even if you got someone bang to rights, you wouldn’t get much credit – it’s the boy that’s the story. Oh well, I suppose if you were hungry for affection you wouldn’t go into this job.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you would,’ he said drily.
‘Well, do the best you can, Kelso, and pray for a miracle.’
He left the meeting in a thoroughly disgruntled mood. A meeting with JB usually left him feeling invigorated but now he felt depressed and inadequate. The stories in the media must be getting to her. Well, join the club.
He had to cheer up, though, and not take his worries home. In the past on days like this, he’d return to an empty house to sulk over a Scotch, kick a metaphorical cat and then spend the evening going through whatever evidence merited further thought; now Cat was waiting for him and he’d have to content himself with muttering under his breath as he drove home to get it out of his system. 298
Cat took a match to all the little tea lights she’d arranged on the window ledge by the front door to welcome Kelso as he got back. She guessed he might be in a celebratory mood; they’d announced on the news that an arrest had been made and while that wasn’t the same as someone being charged, it was progress. At the least it should mean a pat on the back from JB, which she knew always meant a lot to him.
When he came in, she could tell that his meeting hadn’t gone like that, even though he put a lot of enthusiasm into greeting her and sounding cheerful.
She said, ‘Darling, you just look exhausted. Go and sit down while I get the drinks. How was JB?’
Kelso went to sit by the window and pulled a face. ‘Not very happy. She likes results, but she doesn’t like the ones I’ve brought her, so she wasn’t exactly complimentary. It’s hard for her – she’s the one who has to go out and face the world, after all – but I had a good swear about it in the car on the way home and now what I need is a drink and something else to think about. How was your day?’
‘Oh, Kelso, you’re always so polite, as if you read somewhere that’s what men must make sure to do when they come home before they talk about their own, whatever it was like.’ Cat bent to drop a kiss on the top of his head as she brought the drinks. ‘For the record, it was standard stuff, case went off when our witness didn’t turn up – the usual. But tell me what JB was saying – I’d expected her to be pretty pleased with you, after the arrest.’
He laughed. ‘Oh dear, guilty as charged. I just didn’t want you to have to listen to me moaning on about feeling blamed for something that wasn’t my fault.’ 299
Cat spent her days defending people who were, at least theoretically, wrongfully accused and unfairness had always sparked her crusading zeal. ‘That’s just so unjust! You can’t choose what evidence you find. What was she on about?’
‘Well, you know how little an arrest actually means, before any charge,’ he said. ‘And in this case, it probably means less than most.’
She frowned. ‘You mean you’ve got the wrong person?’
She could sense his withdrawal. Ready enough to talk about his own feelings, he’d just realised this was fringing on operational matters and he’d started to feel uncomfortable. She’d have to take this one on, sometime – she wasn’t going to spend her life tiptoeing round professional etiquette.
‘Er …’ he said, and she cut in. ‘Well, if you like I can tell you what my client said about the missing witness – “Right little cow that one, should have known she’d shaft me”, as it happens – as you work at looking interested while your mind is elsewhere. On the other hand, we could talk about what’s uppermost in both our thoughts.’
Kelso looked awkward. ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t want to burden you with my problems.’
‘Look,’ she said, ‘you’re looking really stressed. Mum told Dad about her cases and she always said it helped a lot to talk it through. I suppose I could suggest you phoned her for a chat but to be honest I’d be wretchedly jealous. You could talk to me instead. If you can get hold of a copy of the Official Secrets Act I could swear to it, if you like.’
He gave a laugh – embarrassed, she thought, and she was holding her breath as she waited for his reply. 300
At last he said, ‘It’s drilled into us, you know. But we’re trusting each other with our lives, so being professionally discreet is a bit daft. And yes, it’s on my mind to the exclusion of everything else. Pour me another drink and I’ll tell you about it.’
Cat jumped up. ‘I’ll call Deliveroo at the same time. Tapas?’
She’d have to be careful, she told herself. Your job is to listen, not talk, even when you think you have an idea he ought to want to hear. There’s a lot hanging on this.
Later – much later, she said thoughtfully, ‘That’s quite a story. This woman is prepared to go to jail for her late sister’s very possibly homicidal son, who would actually get a pretty light sentence given his age and the evidence of his family problems – and you said it was a single blow, likely struck in temper? His case would call in the youth court and there’d be a lot of sympathy. So—’
She caught herself up short. That was just the sort of thing she’d told herself not to do.
But he was looking at her with interest. ‘Share the thought.’
‘There’s a lot of money floating around now, isn’t there? If Jay was actually found to have killed Perry, he wouldn’t inherit, and it would go to his sister instead. I don’t know what impression you had of the aunt’s character, but—’
‘My God, you’re cynical!’ he said, and his tone was admiring. ‘Hadn’t thought of that. Worth serving a short jail term, tempered by mitigation? It’s pretty convoluted, if theoretically possible. If you’re talking money, Oriole is the one we should be looking at – means, motive and opportunity – but according to Livvy Murray she was 301doing her best to deflect suspicion from Jay and worrying about him, though I suppose that could be faked too.’
‘From what you said about the consortium, she was their goose who would make sure the golden eggs came their way so that would spread the motivation wider, wouldn’t it? And it would involve the bent copper you talked about.’
‘Certainly should. The trouble is he was actually on a night shift, and we checked out the hotelier as well but he was working all evening and on call all night. Which leaves Oriole – but we’ve got nothing to go on.
‘Still, hopefully tomorrow we’ll be able to question Glover properly as well, and I’ll look at her with new eyes. I’ve got Erskine the lying academic lined up too.’
He suddenly gave an enormous yawn and Cat jumped up. ‘You need your rest, with a long drive early tomorrow. I’ve probably kept you up far too late.’
‘It’s helped, though. I’d have spent the evening going through stuff I’ve gone through twice already – and agonising about that child. Where is he tonight? Who is he with? He’s so vulnerable and it’s my job to prevent anything bad happening to him.’
He’s blaming himself again, Cat thought. ‘It’s your job to try to prevent anything bad happening to him,’ she said firmly. ‘You can’t do more than your best. Now come to bed.’
Oriole had been rushing round in a positive tizzy ever since Steve’s phone call. She could hardly believe what was happening: Steve had been so worried about her, here all on her own, so – well, incredibly enough, loving when 302he phoned, that it was as if the wild dreams she’d always refused to allow herself even to imagine could come true.
The other things hadn’t gone away, though, and most of all she was worried about Jay – where could he be? Whatever he might have become, somewhere there still was the child she’d loved before bad parenting had made him so sad and angry. There had been such cruelty and unfairness and she hated to think of him being punished because of it.
Oriole left Drumdalloch House early on a beautiful sunny morning, even before Lars Andersen arrived. That was another thing that made her happy: she’d get no more complaints from him or the students or the aggressive Dr Erskine either.
She could see people looking like journalists hanging around, one or two with cameras, but they paid no attention as she walked into the Kilbain Hotel.
Breakfast was in full swing and there was no one on the front desk. She dumped her two suitcases there, then went along to the dining room, where guests were attacking their Full Scottish. Steve wasn’t normally here at this time, but someone would be around to deal with guests wanting to pay their bills.
She went through the swing door into the kitchen, where Senga was chatting to the chef. She looked round in surprise.
‘Oh, for goodness sake! Don’t say he’s brought me in again when you were coming anyway – did that to me yesterday for the desk when he could just as well have done it himself.’
Oriole could feel herself blushing. ‘No, I’m not working 303this morning. Actually, Steve’s asked me to sort of move in. Do you know what room he’s given me?’
Astonishment simply didn’t cover the look on the others’ faces. Senga’s jaw had dropped and the chef, after a moment, turned to make a business out of frying some more bacon.
‘He’s what?’ Senga said. ‘Well, I don’t know anything about it – you’ll have to go up to the flat and ask him.’ Then she stopped, as if something had suddenly struck her, but she only went on, ‘Yes, I think that’s what you’d better do.’
Oriole agreed and as the door swung to behind her, she heard the two of them starting to laugh and her face got hotter and hotter until she felt it must be shining like a beacon and guests would be turning their heads to look.
She was about to climb the stairs when the man himself appeared at the top.
‘Oh Steve!’ she called. ‘Here I am!’
She could see he was looking taken aback and said uneasily, ‘Am I too early? I wasn’t going to disturb you, but Senga didn’t know where my room was.’
Had she done the wrong thing? But no. Steve was hurrying down to meet her and giving her a big hug.
‘Of course not, love! I thought I’d be down to meet you myself. I’ve put you in the big corner front on the first floor, so you’ve got a bit of space and somewhere comfy to relax and escape attention.’
‘But Steve, I can handle that! You need all the help you can get – I’ve never seen it so busy.’
‘No, I’m not going to let you, I want to feel you’re properly protected. Come on up, now – I need to talk to you.’ 304
‘My suitcases …’ she said. Being so unsure what she’d need, she’d basically brought it all, but when Steve saw them he looked – well, sort of surprised, and again she felt she’d done the wrong thing. But he was smiling, making a joke about travelling light and then carrying them up for her.
Oriole had never been in this room before but she knew it was one of the best rooms in the hotel – more evidence of care and thoughtfulness.
‘Oh Steve, this is beautiful! You are so kind! I just love the way the chairs are set into the corner there, with a view of the trees – look at that lovely beech with the leaves such a fresh spring green.’
Steve said only, ‘Let’s sit down. I’m afraid I have something to tell you, something that’s a bit worrying.’
The happy bubble burst. She was glad to sit down as her knees gave way. ‘Is it – is it Jay?’ she faltered.
‘No, no, something else entirely. Perry came into the bar one night with someone called Nicki and I seem to remember you had a friend called that.’
‘Yes, Nicki Latham. I didn’t know she’d gone out with Perry, but I certainly introduced them.’ She was still a bit hurt at not being told. ‘Is she all right?’
‘I don’t know. The police are being very cagey. All they’ve said is they’ve arrested someone they haven’t named, but I saw her going into the incident room in the spa and later coming out handcuffed between two policemen.’
It was hard to take it in. ‘Nicki? Are you sure? What on earth could they have arrested her for?’
‘Well, murdering Perry, I suppose. At least that seems to be what people are saying.’
‘But she hardly knew him! I know he wasn’t the best 305person, but I can’t think she even had time to find that out. They must be making some mistake.’
‘Well, the police aren’t famous for getting things right. But did she never say anything to you about him?’
Oriole shook her head. ‘She mostly just listened while I did the talking – she’s such a good friend to me, you know. I’m-I’m really upset about this. Do you think there’s anything we can do to help her, tell them she’s not like that …?’
‘I don’t think so. They’ll just do what they want and then when they realise they’re wrong say sorry afterwards.’
‘But that’s awful,’ she protested.
He patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure it will all be fine. But you see, there’s going to be even more media interest, so you stay up here – all right? I’ll get them to bring you up coffee and magazines from the lounge and you can just chill and enjoy the view.’
Steve had gone almost before she’d thanked him. She was feeling crushed. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Instead of the happy dream of working around the hotel with Steve, with everyone knowing there was, well, something special between them, she was being shut away alone with no companions other than worrying thoughts.
Even so, she didn’t feel grateful when Keith Drummond appeared, all smiles.
‘Steve told me you were here, and I just popped in to see you were all right.’
‘Oh! Yes, I’m fine. Steve’s looking after me very well.’
‘Glad to hear it. I wasn’t sure what that nephew of yours might decide to do next and you’ll be safe here. Now, take it easy—’ 306
‘Wait a moment, Keith. Steve says they’ve arrested Nicki Latham. Do you know what that’s about? She’s a lovely person and this has to be some silly mistake.’
‘Don’t know anything about that – not my case. It’s down to this fancy lot from Edinburgh, so no wonder they’re making a mess of it. Nothing to do except wait till they come back with egg all over their face.’
He took out a card. ‘But if you’re worried about anything, you’ve got my number there so you can just call me and I’ll be round to sort it out. All right?’
And then he was gone, and she was alone again.
Long, slow journeys – which this one certainly was – were a good opportunity to think, Strang reflected as he endured the A9.
Talking everything through with Cat had been surprisingly helpful. He’d talked about his last case to Marjory, of course, but that had felt more like a session with a non-judgmental JB. As Cat listened, he’d felt energised, seeing a new perspective. Her own contribution, too, had sparked off a line of thought he hadn’t considered before.
On reflection, her idea about Jay being set up was too elaborate to be likely, though he’d keep it in mind, but it had prodded him into paying more attention to the money – big money, in this case.
Everyone wanted money. The important question was always, why? Straightforward greed, usually, but it could equally be the need for a shield or even a springboard or – the big one – the desire for power. Serious money was the fairy godmother who could grant all your wishes. The more he thought about it, the stronger the stench grew. 307
Organisation by category. It was a new way of looking at the whole case, and he had the sense of facts falling into place, almost like the little silver balls in a child’s puzzle. He didn’t have answers, but now he had thought-framing questions burning in his mind.
A call came in from Inverness to tell him the interview with Glover was now possible, and he arranged to go straight there. Livvy Murray was on her way up from Edinburgh but he wasn’t going to wait; he got a message sent to her to say she’d be sitting in with him if she arrived in time but if not Hamish Campbell would, and then she should go ahead with the Erskine interview. There would be a briefing when he’d finished with Rebecca Glover.
His fear of danger for Jay was growing stronger by the hour, and if under questioning Glover indicated a new line, this was of course top priority. The homicide investigation was his job too, but it was hard to feel impassioned about getting justice for a man who by all accounts – particularly those of the local witnesses – had been a thoroughly nasty piece of work.
But regardless, if the child had indeed simply been tried too far, he would still have to find the necessary evidence to convict. Punishment was, mercifully, not his to decide.
Rebecca Glover had not realised how shocking she would find her night on remand. The cell was clean enough, if spartan; without a second thought, she’d slept in youth hostels where conditions were much worse and often dodgy with it. It was only as they locked the door that she felt panic.
She’d never been claustrophobic, but it hit her now. 308Through the long night while she struggled with her breathing, she had to face what she’d taken on – not just for tonight, but for indeterminate years ahead.
But she had to. That phone call she’d had from Helena, when she’d said they would kill her if she wasn’t careful … Rebecca had vowed then that if anything happened, she’d come after them. Well, him, really – it was pretty obvious that it was him.
And she’d failed to get justice for her sister. At the other end of the world at the time, she’d been living her best life moving around temporary jobs on a work visa, too broke to have the air fare home. By the time she got back, it was all over and even the review she’d agitated for came to nothing. She couldn’t let her nephew shame her, and then suffer for it. She was scared – terrified, really. How much worse would it be for a child?
Rebecca hadn’t been impressed by the lawyer they’d found for her. He was a pink-faced youth who seemed unprepared for the situation he’d found himself in. He’d bleated on to her the day before about not answering questions, and when he joined her to go to the police interview, he repeated the advice.
‘Whatever they ask, you say, “No Comment”, right?’
‘No, not right,’ she said firmly. ‘I want to get on with it.’
He shook his head. ‘People always think that if they just explain to the police what happened, it will be all right. But it won’t. You’ll give away something that will cause you trouble later.’
‘You don’t seem to understand. I’m not trying to conceal anything. I killed Perry Forsyth and I’ve confessed. That’s it.’ 309
To do him justice, he kept trying to do what he believed was best for her, but when they went through to the interview room and two officers came in and identified themselves for the recording, he still hadn’t persuaded her.
It was Detective Chief Inspector Strang’s eyes she noticed first. He had a very direct, penetrating gaze and she shifted uncomfortably as he began by asking her to confirm her confession to Perry Forsyth’s murder.
‘Yes,’ she said and heard her solicitor give a faint groan. ‘He killed my sister, so I killed him.’
‘I see,’ Strang said. ‘There are one or two questions I want to ask you now, if you are prepared to answer them. First of all, what time was this?’
She had that worked out. ‘I went to see Oriole because she was in a state about Perry having chopped down one of the trees. I was with her when DI Drummond arrived and then Dr Erskine from the Institute went up to the flat. After they’d gone, I saw Perry going down into the woods so I said goodbye to Oriole, and then I waited around for a bit until I was sure no one was watching me, and I went very quietly down the path so he wouldn’t know I was following him. When I got close enough, I just picked up a stick and hit him with it. He fell over and I checked to see he was dead, and then I left.’
There was something a bit unnerving about the way they were looking at her. Perhaps the ‘just fell over’ bit hadn’t sounded properly convincing. ‘It was a big, heavy stick,’ she added. ‘More like a bough, really.’
Strang said, ‘So what time did this take place?’
‘Oh, I don’t know exactly. I suppose about one-fifteen? I got back to the agency not much after two.’ 310
Strang nodded at DI Campbell. He had a kindly expression and Rebecca almost felt he was sorry for her when he said, ‘There’s just a wee problem with that, I’m afraid. You see, we’ve this witness saw Perry Forsyth walking down from the house into the woods at around five o’clock.’
It hit her like a fist in the face, so that she gasped. She hadn’t thought it through; it hadn’t occurred to her that they might try to prove she hadn’t done it. Feebly, she said, ‘Well, she must have made a mistake …’
With Strang’s eyes studying her, she couldn’t go on. Biting her lip and trying to force back tears, she muttered, ‘Sorry, sorry.’
‘Am I to gather that you are withdrawing your confession?’ Strang said. Her solicitor sprang in. ‘My client is making no comment,’ and this time she let it pass.
Strang said, ‘There will be a lot to sort out, but the urgent thing is that I need to hear what you know about Jay Forsyth’s whereabouts. I suspect you believe he killed his father and are trying to protect him. I also suspect you’ve seen him since he left home and may even know where he is now. I urge you to tell me, for his safety. He’s unlikely to be competent to look after himself and he’s very vulnerable.’
Rebecca was openly in tears now. Talking over her lawyer’s warnings, she said, ‘Yes, I saw him. He was trying to live in the woods and he was hungry and cold and scared. I fetched him and he stayed at my flat overnight, but I left him asleep yesterday morning and when I came back he’d gone again. I don’t know anything after that. I only know he was scared you’d say he’d killed his father.’ 311
There was an appreciable pause, and then Strang said slowly, ‘And had he?’
‘I don’t know!’ she cried. ‘I didn’t want to scare him by asking too much. What happens now?’